Original Meaning
The Heading (73:0)
PSALM 73 IS SIMPLY DESCRIBED as a “Psalm of Asaph.” The designation mizmor (“a psalm”) is the most common title for the compositions of the Psalter and probably refers to a poem or song to be accompanied with music (as indicated by the verbal root zmr). Asaph was known as a liturgical leader appointed by David to orchestrate public worship in the temple (1 Chr 16:4–7). But since most of the psalms ascribed to Asaph in Book 3 of the Psalter (Pss 73–89) are based on the events of the exile, it is unlikely that this specific Asaph is in view in these psalm headings. It seems possible that—just as all succeeding kings in the line of David are known as sons of David—all those appointed to lead God’s people in temple worship may have been seen in the line of Asaph. So, the Asaph designation may simply refer to a temple or formal worship setting.4
Bridging Contexts
OF THE RIGHTEOUS AND THE WICKED. The big issue for modern readers of Psalm 73 seems to be the identity of “the wicked” in this poem. During a recent home-group Bible study when we were discussing this psalm, my friends were fairly unequivocal in their condemnation of the group of people described in the psalm and found it difficult to understand why any believer would be envious of such individuals. Another aspect of the psalm that goes hand in hand with this issue is the “them and us” nature of the language adopted by Asaph. There seems little empathy for those whom Asaph initially envies. Some interpreters even read a note of adulation or boasting in Asaph’s final summary, which speaks of the ultimate destruction of those who reject the Lord. How are we to understand the language of “the righteous and the wicked” in this psalm and throughout the Psalter?
In our contemporary Christian understanding of these terms, we tend to think about “the righteous” as the very, very good,44
whereas “the wicked” are the very, very bad. Few Christians would number themselves among the former and, equally, few would see their neighbors as being numbered among the latter. For us, generally speaking, our contemporary use of these terms points to extremes that are beyond the normal human experience of the majority. This manner, however, is not the way in which the psalmist uses these ideas. Basically, “the wicked” (resha‘im) are all those who walk in a way that is contrary to the way of the Lord. We see this meaning most clearly in the book of Psalms itself and in the Old Testament’s wisdom literature. For example, Psalm 1:6 contrasts the “way of the righteous” with the “way of the wicked.” These “ways” are alternative lifestyles. The former indicates a person’s affiliation with Yahweh, whereas the latter indicates a person’s rejection of that lifestyle ordained as pleasing to God. So, essentially, the language of “the righteous and the wicked” at its most basic level speaks about an individual’s allegiance to God or rejection of him. The assumption is that the affiliation of “the righteous” will be evidenced in obedience to and proper worship of Yahweh. But the flip side of that coin is that the psalmists fully expect that the rejection of Yahweh by “the wicked” will ultimately be made plain in their patterns of behavior.
This understanding, therefore, provides the background for the somewhat stark “them and us” language of Psalm 73. Asaph voices the equation in very black and white terms because that is exactly how he views life: each individual is either with God or against him—there is no middle ground. In reading this text we should probably assume that some of those individuals whom Asaph envied would be present at the public reading of this psalm, as they were likely members of the visible covenant community. So, far from being indifferent to their attitude or rejoicing in their fate, Asaph’s poem is a clarion call for change. He has met with God and has gained an appreciation of the ultimate outworking of the choices we all make here and now. His poem, therefore, is an affirmation for those who trust in God but struggle with the apparent prosperity of those who reject him and the impunity with which they persecute others. But Psalm 73 is also a wake-up call to “the wicked.” They believe in a God who exists (v. 11), but they do not believe in a God who judges, in a God who intervenes. In this way Asaph’s poem, in and of itself, is the very act of proclamation that he promises (v. 28). It is both affirmation for those who love the Lord but also warning for those who reject him. That their path is far from firm and their ultimate end far from happy is why Asaph speaks with such frank (some would say simplistic) language—he does not want any to be unaware of their “final destiny” (v. 17).
Psalm 73 in the New Testament. Surprisingly for such a significant psalm, Psalm 73 is not cited anywhere in the New Testament either by direct quotation or allusion. But the theological equation presented by Asaph is readily observable in Jesus’ teachings, especially in the Sermon on the Mount. Lifestyle as a choice between two ways—one affiliating with God and one rejecting God—lies at the heart of much of Christ’s teaching in the Gospels (e.g., Matt 7:13–27). Equally, Asaph’s warning that wealth and riches are illusory when it comes to ultimate meaning in life is echoed clearly in Jesus’ words about laying up treasure in heaven (Matt 6:19–34). As to the warning that the wicked find themselves on slippery ground and the strong distinction between the righteous and the wicked, these ideas are also made even more explicit in the New Testament’s teaching on final judgment (e.g., Matt 13:24–30, 36–50 et al.). Finally, Asaph’s great celebration of the privileges inherent to being a believer is echoed forcefully in Paul’s great statement of eternal security in Romans 8:28–39.
Contemporary Significance
HONESTY IN PRAYER. There are many aspects of Psalm 73 that are of great significance in our contemporary setting; however, perhaps the most significant avenue of application is also the one we find most difficult. Asaph is brutally honest in his poem, and his honesty is of a type we find difficult to replicate in our own life with God. There is an interesting dynamic at work in Psalm 73. Asaph refuses to voice his complaint against God before the community of faith, but we are probably meant to assume that Asaph did voice his complaint to God (though the text does not say so explicitly).45
Indeed, it could be argued that Asaph’s honest expression of the way in which he viewed life around him was essential to his reorientation. Asaph ultimately came to a more mature, fuller understanding of the true identity of his God and a better understanding of the riches he possessed in relationship with God. But the question we must ask is whether he would have come to this transformation of perspective had he not been honest in his prayer before Yahweh.
In this psalm (as in all the laments), we are confronted with the implication that we must be absolutely honest with God in prayer. The psalmists were never reluctant to give voice to their grief and sense of covenantal disappointment. From their perspective it often seemed that God had let them down, that he had not kept his part of the covenantal deal, and in their prayers they openly voiced their doubts to Yahweh. Neither the Old Testament songwriters nor the community of faith in general were reluctant to speak honestly to God of their distress, even when they viewed God as the source of their distress.46
We are not very comfortable with such openness and honesty in our contemporary Christian spirituality. It strikes us as impolite and inappropriate to speak to God in these ways, yet so much of the Bible is made up of laments of this type.47
Why was it appropriate then but seems inappropriate to us now? What is more, Jesus chose laments to voice his own feelings before his Father (e.g., Ps 22:1 in Mark 15:34; Ps 69:5 in John 15:25). Why was it appropriate for Jesus to speak and pray using this language, yet we are so uncomfortable with it? In the contemporary church in the Western world, there is an unwritten pressure placed upon Christians that assumes that we are always “Fine!” In fact, if we are not “fine” there must be something seriously wrong with our faith. This is not the attitude of the Bible! The Scriptures meet with us in all our humanity—good and bad, strong and weak, soaring with faith and wracked with doubt. In the Bible we find language that is appropriate to our every situation, and laments, like Asaph’s, are appropriate to those days when we ourselves are filled with doubts and uncertainties. It is important that we, today, make these prayers our own when they reflect our heart and mind and view of life.
Such honest spirituality may be new and uncomfortable for us, but two things we should bear in mind: (1) Asaph’s change of perspective would not have occurred without his honest meeting with God—voicing his complaint was part of his reorientation; (2) Why would we ever offer to God prayer that amounts to no more than a polite lie? The sovereign God sees our hearts and knows our moods and precisely how we see things. If we are disappointed or angry with God, he is fully aware of that fact, and there is no point in offering a politely dishonest prayer when it is only in the honest expression of our real mood and mindset that he can begin to heal, correct, restore, and reorient.
Seeing other people as God sees them. Another difficulty in contemporary society is the challenge to view our friends and neighbors from a godly perspective rather than from a worldly perspective. It is very easy to look round about us and see people who seem perfectly happy—people with a nice family, a good job/house/car, earning more money than we do, with no visible problems or tensions or turmoil. Very often those people around us who do not know Christ seem to have life sorted out and do not really appear to lack anything. So it is that today we can often fall into the same trap as Asaph did. We too can envy the wicked. But even if we do not envy the wicked in and of themselves, we can subconsciously assume that these folks have no needs. By the standards and priorities of the world, often they may not.
Christians today, however, need to remind themselves of Asaph’s sanctuary experience with God: “Then I understood their final destiny.” It is important to see our family, friends, and neighbors who are without Christ not from a worldly perspective of success and happiness but from the eternal perspective of a God who one day will judge. We must never forget Asaph’s lesson that those who are without the gospel stand on slippery ground. Success from a human perspective and worldly wealth are meaningless at the point of a person’s death. Ultimately, only one thing really matters—relationship with God through Christ! Those of us who believe must look beyond the physical wealth of others and remember their spiritual poverty, which can only be met through the declaration of all God’s deeds in Christ (Ps 73:28; cf. Rom 10:14–17).
Remember the richness of all that we have in Christ. Just as we can see others from the wrong perspective, so also we can misperceive ourselves. Certainly in contemporary Western Europe it would be fair to say that the tide of society flows against Christianity. In a world that is becoming more and more radically secularized, it is very easy for Christians to lapse into the type of mentality that thinks, “Woe is me! Life is hard! Everyone is against us!” But we must never forget that the reality of life in Christ is so very different from such pessimistic navel gazing. We have been given blessing after blessing, good gift after good gift, promise after promise, and encouragement after encouragement in and through the work of the Lord Jesus Christ!48
We must never forget the riches we have as the people of God—friendship with the Creator; eternal security guaranteed; meaning and purpose in life; kinship with a family that transcends every barrier of race and nationality; the promise of divine protection, guidance, provision, and help; and so much more besides. Just as Asaph came to realize that it is not worldly wealth which brings true richness, so we too must remember the great wealth we have as children of the Father through the sacrifice of the Son as we are strengthened through the Spirit.
Crisis and community. It is significant that the community of faith had a substantial influence in Asaph’s refusal to turn completely away from his life of faith. Crises of faith are best dealt with not alone but in the community of believers. Living only with our own thoughts, doubts, and fears in isolation from other believers will only worsen the tensions we face. We find help in community—others who have already experienced these things and who, therefore, can offer meaningful advice and prayers. Christian fellowship is essential to any healthy life of faith, but all the more so in days when we struggle in our own relationship with God (Heb 10:19–25).
Resolution in relationship. Psalm 73 addresses another question that is often a major problem for people contemplating the life of faith in the light of the suffering visible in this world. Time and time again, the question of theodicy has proven to be a stumbling block for philosophers and theologians alike. It is the type of question concerning which human beings, with all our limitations, can never attain an entirely satisfactory answer. Throughout the generations, some of the greatest minds in Christianity have sought to explain in terms of abstract logic the tension between the justice of God and the sufferings of this world. It appears to me that Asaph’s autobiographical story in Psalm 73 tells us that the solution to such problems can never be found in the realm of contemplation and logic alone; rather, Asaph’s story points to resolution in relationship. It was in meeting with God that Asaph’s crisis was resolved. His perspectives were transformed through the renewal of right relationship rather than through the logical deliberation that proved so burdensome to him (v. 16). Quite simply, the limitations of human logic are such that things only begin to make sense when we seek right relationship with the Creator rather than making complete logical understanding a prerequisite for entering into relationship with God.
Original Meaning
Orientation (73:1)
MANY PSALMS, EVEN PSALMS OF LAMENT, begin with a focal statement of faith that celebrates the nature of God. As we shall see below, Asaph’s psalm is a poem of brutal honesty in which he does not hold back from expressing his complaint against Yahweh, his God. However, even in doing so there are certain things the poet wants the reader to remember. Here we see one of them: “Surely God is good to Israel.” The Hebrew word for “good” (tov) marks an important theme in Psalm 73 because it both begins and ends the poem. In verse 1 Asaph reminds the reader that “surely God is good,” and in verse 28 he states that “it is good to be near God.” This common Hebrew poetic technique is known as an inclusio—basically a bracketing function that draws the reader’s attention to the key theme of the poem or text. So somehow, unlikely as it may seem as we read through parts of Psalm 73, we should remember that this poem is ultimately about a God who is good.5
Even when confronted with the injustices of life and the judgment of God, the reader is encouraged to remember that this God is a good God.
Initially, Asaph’s opening statement sounds like many of the faith statements that introduce complaint poems—the declaration is that God is good regardless of present circumstances. But there is, perhaps, a certain poignancy to the opening words of Psalm 73: “Surely God is good to Israel.” The small Hebrew particle that begins the poem (’ak) is more significant than its stature suggests. The inclusion of the word “surely” seems to reflect the doubts of the psalmist’s heart that later become apparent in the psalm itself. The experiences he faces on a day-to-day basis have caused him to doubt the goodness of God, and something of that tension comes out in the emphatic and, at the same time, dubious expression, surely God is good to Israel. This expression is what Asaph knows cognitively and also what he hopes for experientially. It is an expression of both his theological conviction and his hope for the future despite the doubt caused by his present experience.6
This opening verse is what we could describe as a statement of orientation. It is a statement of faith that all Old Testament believers would, as a matter of course, accept as true. It is a statement that reflects the faith community’s creedal position. God is good to his people, in particular to those who genuinely walk in his ways. The opening statement of verse 1 reflects the theology of Psalm 1. The worldview of Psalm 1 and Psalm 73:1 is remarkably simple. To walk in the ways of God is a lifestyle that reaps his blessing. Explicitly in Psalm 1, and by implication in Psalm 73:1, the flip side of that coin is clear. Those who reject God and his ways rob themselves of his blessing and place themselves under his punishment. Such is the statement of faith implied in 73:1. God is good to those who are pure in heart, who walk in his ways. It is a statement of orientation. This declaration would have been one of the many foundational (liturgical) statements of the worshiping community through which the people “articulate the joy, delight, goodness, coherence, and reliability of God, God’s creation, and God’s governing law.”7
Orientation statements express what we believe about God and about life with him.
Bridging Contexts
OF THE RIGHTEOUS AND THE WICKED. The big issue for modern readers of Psalm 73 seems to be the identity of “the wicked” in this poem. During a recent home-group Bible study when we were discussing this psalm, my friends were fairly unequivocal in their condemnation of the group of people described in the psalm and found it difficult to understand why any believer would be envious of such individuals. Another aspect of the psalm that goes hand in hand with this issue is the “them and us” nature of the language adopted by Asaph. There seems little empathy for those whom Asaph initially envies. Some interpreters even read a note of adulation or boasting in Asaph’s final summary, which speaks of the ultimate destruction of those who reject the Lord. How are we to understand the language of “the righteous and the wicked” in this psalm and throughout the Psalter?
In our contemporary Christian understanding of these terms, we tend to think about “the righteous” as the very, very good,44
whereas “the wicked” are the very, very bad. Few Christians would number themselves among the former and, equally, few would see their neighbors as being numbered among the latter. For us, generally speaking, our contemporary use of these terms points to extremes that are beyond the normal human experience of the majority. This manner, however, is not the way in which the psalmist uses these ideas. Basically, “the wicked” (resha‘im) are all those who walk in a way that is contrary to the way of the Lord. We see this meaning most clearly in the book of Psalms itself and in the Old Testament’s wisdom literature. For example, Psalm 1:6 contrasts the “way of the righteous” with the “way of the wicked.” These “ways” are alternative lifestyles. The former indicates a person’s affiliation with Yahweh, whereas the latter indicates a person’s rejection of that lifestyle ordained as pleasing to God. So, essentially, the language of “the righteous and the wicked” at its most basic level speaks about an individual’s allegiance to God or rejection of him. The assumption is that the affiliation of “the righteous” will be evidenced in obedience to and proper worship of Yahweh. But the flip side of that coin is that the psalmists fully expect that the rejection of Yahweh by “the wicked” will ultimately be made plain in their patterns of behavior.
This understanding, therefore, provides the background for the somewhat stark “them and us” language of Psalm 73. Asaph voices the equation in very black and white terms because that is exactly how he views life: each individual is either with God or against him—there is no middle ground. In reading this text we should probably assume that some of those individuals whom Asaph envied would be present at the public reading of this psalm, as they were likely members of the visible covenant community. So, far from being indifferent to their attitude or rejoicing in their fate, Asaph’s poem is a clarion call for change. He has met with God and has gained an appreciation of the ultimate outworking of the choices we all make here and now. His poem, therefore, is an affirmation for those who trust in God but struggle with the apparent prosperity of those who reject him and the impunity with which they persecute others. But Psalm 73 is also a wake-up call to “the wicked.” They believe in a God who exists (v. 11), but they do not believe in a God who judges, in a God who intervenes. In this way Asaph’s poem, in and of itself, is the very act of proclamation that he promises (v. 28). It is both affirmation for those who love the Lord but also warning for those who reject him. That their path is far from firm and their ultimate end far from happy is why Asaph speaks with such frank (some would say simplistic) language—he does not want any to be unaware of their “final destiny” (v. 17).
Psalm 73 in the New Testament. Surprisingly for such a significant psalm, Psalm 73 is not cited anywhere in the New Testament either by direct quotation or allusion. But the theological equation presented by Asaph is readily observable in Jesus’ teachings, especially in the Sermon on the Mount. Lifestyle as a choice between two ways—one affiliating with God and one rejecting God—lies at the heart of much of Christ’s teaching in the Gospels (e.g., Matt 7:13–27). Equally, Asaph’s warning that wealth and riches are illusory when it comes to ultimate meaning in life is echoed clearly in Jesus’ words about laying up treasure in heaven (Matt 6:19–34). As to the warning that the wicked find themselves on slippery ground and the strong distinction between the righteous and the wicked, these ideas are also made even more explicit in the New Testament’s teaching on final judgment (e.g., Matt 13:24–30, 36–50 et al.). Finally, Asaph’s great celebration of the privileges inherent to being a believer is echoed forcefully in Paul’s great statement of eternal security in Romans 8:28–39.
Contemporary Significance
HONESTY IN PRAYER. There are many aspects of Psalm 73 that are of great significance in our contemporary setting; however, perhaps the most significant avenue of application is also the one we find most difficult. Asaph is brutally honest in his poem, and his honesty is of a type we find difficult to replicate in our own life with God. There is an interesting dynamic at work in Psalm 73. Asaph refuses to voice his complaint against God before the community of faith, but we are probably meant to assume that Asaph did voice his complaint to God (though the text does not say so explicitly).45
Indeed, it could be argued that Asaph’s honest expression of the way in which he viewed life around him was essential to his reorientation. Asaph ultimately came to a more mature, fuller understanding of the true identity of his God and a better understanding of the riches he possessed in relationship with God. But the question we must ask is whether he would have come to this transformation of perspective had he not been honest in his prayer before Yahweh.
In this psalm (as in all the laments), we are confronted with the implication that we must be absolutely honest with God in prayer. The psalmists were never reluctant to give voice to their grief and sense of covenantal disappointment. From their perspective it often seemed that God had let them down, that he had not kept his part of the covenantal deal, and in their prayers they openly voiced their doubts to Yahweh. Neither the Old Testament songwriters nor the community of faith in general were reluctant to speak honestly to God of their distress, even when they viewed God as the source of their distress.46
We are not very comfortable with such openness and honesty in our contemporary Christian spirituality. It strikes us as impolite and inappropriate to speak to God in these ways, yet so much of the Bible is made up of laments of this type.47
Why was it appropriate then but seems inappropriate to us now? What is more, Jesus chose laments to voice his own feelings before his Father (e.g., Ps 22:1 in Mark 15:34; Ps 69:5 in John 15:25). Why was it appropriate for Jesus to speak and pray using this language, yet we are so uncomfortable with it? In the contemporary church in the Western world, there is an unwritten pressure placed upon Christians that assumes that we are always “Fine!” In fact, if we are not “fine” there must be something seriously wrong with our faith. This is not the attitude of the Bible! The Scriptures meet with us in all our humanity—good and bad, strong and weak, soaring with faith and wracked with doubt. In the Bible we find language that is appropriate to our every situation, and laments, like Asaph’s, are appropriate to those days when we ourselves are filled with doubts and uncertainties. It is important that we, today, make these prayers our own when they reflect our heart and mind and view of life.
Such honest spirituality may be new and uncomfortable for us, but two things we should bear in mind: (1) Asaph’s change of perspective would not have occurred without his honest meeting with God—voicing his complaint was part of his reorientation; (2) Why would we ever offer to God prayer that amounts to no more than a polite lie? The sovereign God sees our hearts and knows our moods and precisely how we see things. If we are disappointed or angry with God, he is fully aware of that fact, and there is no point in offering a politely dishonest prayer when it is only in the honest expression of our real mood and mindset that he can begin to heal, correct, restore, and reorient.
Seeing other people as God sees them. Another difficulty in contemporary society is the challenge to view our friends and neighbors from a godly perspective rather than from a worldly perspective. It is very easy to look round about us and see people who seem perfectly happy—people with a nice family, a good job/house/car, earning more money than we do, with no visible problems or tensions or turmoil. Very often those people around us who do not know Christ seem to have life sorted out and do not really appear to lack anything. So it is that today we can often fall into the same trap as Asaph did. We too can envy the wicked. But even if we do not envy the wicked in and of themselves, we can subconsciously assume that these folks have no needs. By the standards and priorities of the world, often they may not.
Christians today, however, need to remind themselves of Asaph’s sanctuary experience with God: “Then I understood their final destiny.” It is important to see our family, friends, and neighbors who are without Christ not from a worldly perspective of success and happiness but from the eternal perspective of a God who one day will judge. We must never forget Asaph’s lesson that those who are without the gospel stand on slippery ground. Success from a human perspective and worldly wealth are meaningless at the point of a person’s death. Ultimately, only one thing really matters—relationship with God through Christ! Those of us who believe must look beyond the physical wealth of others and remember their spiritual poverty, which can only be met through the declaration of all God’s deeds in Christ (Ps 73:28; cf. Rom 10:14–17).
Remember the richness of all that we have in Christ. Just as we can see others from the wrong perspective, so also we can misperceive ourselves. Certainly in contemporary Western Europe it would be fair to say that the tide of society flows against Christianity. In a world that is becoming more and more radically secularized, it is very easy for Christians to lapse into the type of mentality that thinks, “Woe is me! Life is hard! Everyone is against us!” But we must never forget that the reality of life in Christ is so very different from such pessimistic navel gazing. We have been given blessing after blessing, good gift after good gift, promise after promise, and encouragement after encouragement in and through the work of the Lord Jesus Christ!48
We must never forget the riches we have as the people of God—friendship with the Creator; eternal security guaranteed; meaning and purpose in life; kinship with a family that transcends every barrier of race and nationality; the promise of divine protection, guidance, provision, and help; and so much more besides. Just as Asaph came to realize that it is not worldly wealth which brings true richness, so we too must remember the great wealth we have as children of the Father through the sacrifice of the Son as we are strengthened through the Spirit.
Crisis and community. It is significant that the community of faith had a substantial influence in Asaph’s refusal to turn completely away from his life of faith. Crises of faith are best dealt with not alone but in the community of believers. Living only with our own thoughts, doubts, and fears in isolation from other believers will only worsen the tensions we face. We find help in community—others who have already experienced these things and who, therefore, can offer meaningful advice and prayers. Christian fellowship is essential to any healthy life of faith, but all the more so in days when we struggle in our own relationship with God (Heb 10:19–25).
Resolution in relationship. Psalm 73 addresses another question that is often a major problem for people contemplating the life of faith in the light of the suffering visible in this world. Time and time again, the question of theodicy has proven to be a stumbling block for philosophers and theologians alike. It is the type of question concerning which human beings, with all our limitations, can never attain an entirely satisfactory answer. Throughout the generations, some of the greatest minds in Christianity have sought to explain in terms of abstract logic the tension between the justice of God and the sufferings of this world. It appears to me that Asaph’s autobiographical story in Psalm 73 tells us that the solution to such problems can never be found in the realm of contemplation and logic alone; rather, Asaph’s story points to resolution in relationship. It was in meeting with God that Asaph’s crisis was resolved. His perspectives were transformed through the renewal of right relationship rather than through the logical deliberation that proved so burdensome to him (v. 16). Quite simply, the limitations of human logic are such that things only begin to make sense when we seek right relationship with the Creator rather than making complete logical understanding a prerequisite for entering into relationship with God.
Original Meaning
Disorientation (73:2–17)
THE REALITY OF OUR EXPERIENCE of life with God in the world, however, often conflicts with our expectation of how that life should look. The statements of faith that we hold lead us, rightly or wrongly, to formulate certain expectations with regard to the life that we live. Disorientation occurs when our experience of life does not match up to our faith-based expectations. So went Asaph’s experience in the next section of Psalm 73.
But as for me. Asaph moves quickly from his statement of orientation in verse 1 to a description of his personal crisis of faith in verses 2–17. His disorientation occurs in his observation of life round about him. These observations make uncomfortable viewing for the poet because the reality of life in the world around him does not appear to match the theology of his statements of faith. Asaph’s is a very personal crisis, but it is one to which many believers today, as throughout the centuries, can relate. Why do the wicked prosper when God’s people seem to struggle so much?8
Verse 2 describes how close Asaph came to losing his way in life because of his doubts. The “way” imagery of the Psalter is a common means of referring to questions of lifestyle. It seems that Asaph is telling us that his doubts almost led him to reject his life of faith (see also vv. 13–14).9
For I envied the arrogant. With the benefit of hindsight, Asaph sees that the root of his problem was based on his own attitude and perspective at least as much as it was grounded in the reality of his situation. A major part of the problem was the way he perceived things. That is not to say that this problem had no grounding in reality, but Asaph clearly comes to realize that his own attitude toward that reality exacerbated the issue at hand. “The psalmist now begins a confession of foolishness which almost led to a fatal fall from God.”10
When I saw the prosperity of the wicked. The statement that Asaph makes here is really something of a theological hand grenade. Some of the power of this verse is lost in translation, for what the poet actually says is that he envied the arrogant when he saw the shalom of the wicked! Imagine the reaction of the first hearers of this psalm. “The shalom of the wicked . . . Asaph, are you mad? The wicked do not have . . . cannot have . . . shalom!” The idea of shalom in the Old Testament is associated with the powerful, holistic blessing of God for his people. Surely only the “righteous” can have shalom, not the wicked. In terms of Psalm 1, only those blessed people who delight in the torah of Yahweh can expect to receive his shalom, for the wicked have set themselves on a way that is perishing. So how can Asaph possibly say that the root of his problem lay in the “peace” and “welfare” that was broadly thought to be a privilege dependent on nearness to God?11
Yet this was exactly how it appeared to Asaph. It was not he, as one numbered among the righteous, who was experiencing the shalom of Yahweh; rather, it was those who rejected God and oppressed the weak in society who experienced the welfare that Asaph could only long for. How is a believer to resolve such a conundrum?
They have no struggles. . . . they are not plagued by human ills. Asaph’s problem of perspective results in a somewhat idealized view of the reality of those who rejected Yahweh. Asaph’s external perspective on the wicked presents them as trouble free, well fed, and somehow immune to the trials of life that are common to everyone else. It would be interesting to know whether those people whom Asaph observed from a distance would describe their lives in the same way. It strikes me that we are to read these verses as an indication of Asaph’s state of mind rather than as a sober presentation of the reality of life for the godless oppressor. In verse 4 Asaph describes the wicked as being “fat” (NIV: “healthy and strong”). In ancient Near Eastern agrarian society, being fat was generally seen as a sign of wealth, so the poet is indicating that the people he envied were among the prosperous of his society. This description of the wicked, then, may also indicate that Asaph’s perspective is not entirely to be trusted in his assessment of their reality because, from a human perspective, it has always been easy to envy those who have more than we do.12
Therefore pride is their necklace. . . . their evil imaginations have no limits. Not only do the wicked (a term we will discuss later in the Bridging Contexts section) reject Yahweh and yet prosper, but they are also marked by the classic signs of arrogant godlessness. “Pride” adorns them as a necklace. Pride is a characteristic roundly condemned in Scripture (e.g., 2 Sam 22:26–28; Prov 6:16–19; 16:18 et al.), yet one thing worse than simply being proud is being blatant about that pride. Along with the arrogance of the wicked come violence and willingness to oppress others in order to get what they want. The strange idiom in verse 7a (literally in the Hebrew, “Their eye goes out [bulges] with fat”) is genuinely difficult to translate. It may simply refer to the extent of their wealth and greed so that even their eyes bulge with fat, but this explanation does not make much sense of the second part of the parallelism. It may well be that the “fatted eye” is a reflection of their “fatted hearts.” Just as their lack of moderation and care for the needs of others leads to their bodies becoming fat (v. 4), so the metaphor of their eyes being fat points to the same self-centered perspective on life as a whole. The way in which they see things—all their thoughts and plans—reflects the same selfish attitude, hence the NIV’s “From their callous hearts comes iniquity.”13
And this is certainly the tone of verse 7b, where the psalmist speaks of the evil imaginations of their minds as running riot. “They are evil to the core; their hearts spill over with evil (v. 7).”14
They scoff, and speak with malice. . . . “Does the Most High know anything?” Asaph uses a series of height metaphors in order to emphasize the extent of the arrogance of the people he envied, the people whose prosperity precipitated such a deep crisis of faith for him. Scoffing, threatening oppression, and mocking God are all indicative of the type of arrogance that is roundly condemned in the Bible as detestable in God’s eyes (Prov 6:16–19). What is more, despite all these characteristics that should have led to societal condemnation and alienation, Asaph sees that the wicked have become popular in his day (v. 10). This development indicates that others besides Asaph have found the lifestyle of this group of individuals attractive, regardless of their dubious morality and their outright rejection of Yahweh.
Not only do these people oppress others when they can get away with it, but they are also open in their mocking rejection of God. Interestingly, it is not that they do not believe in God, for their words indicate that they do. Perhaps even more alarming than the rejection of atheism, however, is the trivialization of God by those who are focused entirely on self.15
As far as they are concerned, there may well be a God, but he is irrelevant in their lives, hence their shameless pride and unconcealed oppression of others. They are not afraid because they have not experienced God as judge . . . yet!16
We will see that this caveat is important in the resolution of Asaph’s crisis of faith.
There is a sense in which Asaph’s frank description of these people makes his envy of them all the more surprising. These people are not just the “ordinary” wicked who simply refuse to walk in the ways of the Lord: rather, they are the “oppressive” wicked who exploit the weak and mock the Creator in doing so. Asaph’s presentation of the wicked is far from appealing, so what was it about them that so drew his envy?
Always free of care, they go on amassing wealth. So it is that we get to the heart of Asaph’s problem of perspective. The poet’s envy is rooted in the observation of an easy, wealthy life. The life of the wicked seemed to be untroubled with the burdens that normal people experienced and, despite their obvious rejection of God and the oppression of the weak, the rich just seemed to get richer. The essence of the matter from Asaph’s perspective seems to be that wealth, however it is gained, makes life easier—an attitude often echoed in our own day! Ultimately, Asaph comes to the realization that his conclusion was not true in his day, just as it remains untrue in ours. As we shall see in a moment, Asaph’s envy was based on an illusion. Real life for those who reject God is never actually as attractive as their lifestyle may seem to indicate.17
This was Asaph’s eventual realization as his concept of wealth is transformed. For the time being, however, the observation of an easy life, wealth, and power18
proved all too seductive for Asaph, thus causing him to experience the genuine crisis of faith he recounts in these verses of his complaint.
Surely in vain have I kept my heart pure. The poet’s confusion at the unmerited prosperity of those who reject God’s ways is further compounded by his own experience of hardship. With a lovely sense of artistry the psalmist picks up on the language of verse 5 in verses 14 and 16. He tells us that the wicked are not “burdened” (‘amal) like other men, nor are they “plagued” (naga‘) by human ills (v. 5). Asaph complains that his own experience has been just the opposite. He has been “afflicted” (naga‘) all day long (v. 14), and when he came to consider his own experience in the light of his observations of the world round about him, the whole equation was “burdensome” (‘amal; NIV “oppressive”) to him (v. 16).19
The irony of this symmetry is unmistakable. The worldview in verse 1 indicates a world in which the wicked could reasonably expect to be those who are “burdened” and “plagued.” But when Asaph thinks about the reality of his life in the light of events witnessed around him, he realizes that the reverse is the case. They prosper and he is plagued!20
Note the second “surely” here. It echoes the element of doubt implied in Asaph’s statement of faith in verse 1. Reading this verse back into the opening statement of Psalm 73, we see the scenario that has led to Asaph’s doubting the goodness of God. He believes that God is good (v. 1), but he knows that he is suffering (vv. 13–14). Herein lies the crisis of faith and experience—Asaph believes one thing, but his experience tells another. A third “surely” is yet to come in verse 18, where we begin to see a resolution.
Asaph’s confusion over his observation of the prospering of the wicked was further exacerbated by his own experience of suffering—it was like rubbing salt into his theological wounds. So, in his inner being, he came to the conclusion that his quest for a godly lifestyle was “vain” or “empty” (v. 13). Asaph’s analysis of his own experience in the light of his observation of reality in the world around him caused him to question the very value of his faith—was it all worth the cost?
If I had spoken out like that. This stanza (vv. 15–17) marks a turning point in Ps 73. It is at this point that, in tone, the poem pivots from lament to praise and declaration of faith. Clearly, Asaph comes to the realization that there was something skewed in his perspectives. Looking back on the way in which he had been thinking, he confesses that to declare these thoughts publicly would have, in some sense, been a betrayal of the community of faith (v. 15). It is interesting to notice the preserving effect of the worshiping community. In the previous verses (vv. 13–14) we are given insight into Asaph’s inner turmoil, which has caused him to doubt the value of his life with God. Asaph is willing to question God in his heart but somehow is unwilling to express this doubt among his people. Craig Broyles comments, “It is surprising that what restrains the speaker is not his loyalty to God but his loyalty to [God’s] children.”21
It is difficult to define precisely what happens in these verses; however, it appears that Asaph’s presence among God’s people begins the poet’s dawning realization that his perspectives are awry.22
It troubled me deeply. The importance of community is accentuated by the confession that individual contemplation, in this case, has failed to provide any sort of resolution for Asaph (v. 16). There is something quite emotive about Asaph’s plaintive plea in this verse. He has genuinely struggled to understand why the observed reality of life around about him does not conform to the expectations derived from his theological belief system. He has genuinely sought resolution, but the tension between his observations, on the one hand, and his allegiance to both God and community of faith, on the other, means that his reflections have been burdensome to him.23
Until . . .
Till I entered the sanctuary of God. Clearly, it is in meeting with God in his sanctuary that Asaph’s internal torment finds release.24
Verse 17 is the pivot around which the whole psalm rotates. It is the turning point that transforms Asaph’s perspective and changes the tone of the poem. It is important to note, however, that the transformation occurs not in Asaph’s circumstances; rather, it occurs in his perception of the circumstances. As far as we are aware, the reality that led to Asaph’s crisis of faith remains the same, but verse 17 points to the utter transformation of Asaph’s appreciation of the events that surround him. Asaph’s crisis resulted from his limited, temporal perspective on the events of the world around him. In meeting with God he begins to see things from a more eternal, divine perspective. The essence of the solution that eases Asaph’s inner turmoil is really quite simple—the wicked may prosper now, but ultimately they will not. This realization restores harmony to Asaph’s worldview. The tension between observed reality and his theological belief system is resolved. Until now it seemed that the wicked stood on solid ground, whereas Asaph’s feet were slipping (v. 2), but in meeting with God the psalmist comes to the realization that he stands on ground that is firm, whereas the apparent stability of the wicked is illusory.
What happened in the sanctuary? There is no specific indication of precisely what Asaph experienced in the “sanctuary of God” to lead to such a radical transformation of attitude. This lack has led to much debate about whether verse 17 refers to a physical visit to the temple in Jerusalem or to a metaphorical experience of God on Asaph’s part.25
There are good arguments to be made either way, and, clearly, both the physical and metaphorical interpretations of verse 17 point to a spiritual reality that goes beyond mere outward experience of formalized religion.26
So the essence remains the same: whether literally in the temple or metaphorically wherever the psalmist happened to be, Asaph met with God, and his understanding of the reality of his life and the world round about him was radically transformed by that encounter.
We can only speculate as to whether it was the public reading of the Torah or the entrance rituals that would point to the holiness of God and the exclusion of the wicked—or the experience of singing together with the massed ranks of the believers, or perhaps simply Asaph’s consciously placing himself in the presence of God in prayer. One way or the other, the psalmist came to see things from God’s perspective and in this way came to the realization that his complaint reflected an attitude that was entirely wrong (vv. 21–22).
This transformation of thought leads Asaph to a spiritual, intellectual, and experiential reorientation that brings new depths of maturity to his understanding of who God is and what he, Asaph, has in relationship with the God of the covenant.
Bridging Contexts
OF THE RIGHTEOUS AND THE WICKED. The big issue for modern readers of Psalm 73 seems to be the identity of “the wicked” in this poem. During a recent home-group Bible study when we were discussing this psalm, my friends were fairly unequivocal in their condemnation of the group of people described in the psalm and found it difficult to understand why any believer would be envious of such individuals. Another aspect of the psalm that goes hand in hand with this issue is the “them and us” nature of the language adopted by Asaph. There seems little empathy for those whom Asaph initially envies. Some interpreters even read a note of adulation or boasting in Asaph’s final summary, which speaks of the ultimate destruction of those who reject the Lord. How are we to understand the language of “the righteous and the wicked” in this psalm and throughout the Psalter?
In our contemporary Christian understanding of these terms, we tend to think about “the righteous” as the very, very good,44
whereas “the wicked” are the very, very bad. Few Christians would number themselves among the former and, equally, few would see their neighbors as being numbered among the latter. For us, generally speaking, our contemporary use of these terms points to extremes that are beyond the normal human experience of the majority. This manner, however, is not the way in which the psalmist uses these ideas. Basically, “the wicked” (resha‘im) are all those who walk in a way that is contrary to the way of the Lord. We see this meaning most clearly in the book of Psalms itself and in the Old Testament’s wisdom literature. For example, Psalm 1:6 contrasts the “way of the righteous” with the “way of the wicked.” These “ways” are alternative lifestyles. The former indicates a person’s affiliation with Yahweh, whereas the latter indicates a person’s rejection of that lifestyle ordained as pleasing to God. So, essentially, the language of “the righteous and the wicked” at its most basic level speaks about an individual’s allegiance to God or rejection of him. The assumption is that the affiliation of “the righteous” will be evidenced in obedience to and proper worship of Yahweh. But the flip side of that coin is that the psalmists fully expect that the rejection of Yahweh by “the wicked” will ultimately be made plain in their patterns of behavior.
This understanding, therefore, provides the background for the somewhat stark “them and us” language of Psalm 73. Asaph voices the equation in very black and white terms because that is exactly how he views life: each individual is either with God or against him—there is no middle ground. In reading this text we should probably assume that some of those individuals whom Asaph envied would be present at the public reading of this psalm, as they were likely members of the visible covenant community. So, far from being indifferent to their attitude or rejoicing in their fate, Asaph’s poem is a clarion call for change. He has met with God and has gained an appreciation of the ultimate outworking of the choices we all make here and now. His poem, therefore, is an affirmation for those who trust in God but struggle with the apparent prosperity of those who reject him and the impunity with which they persecute others. But Psalm 73 is also a wake-up call to “the wicked.” They believe in a God who exists (v. 11), but they do not believe in a God who judges, in a God who intervenes. In this way Asaph’s poem, in and of itself, is the very act of proclamation that he promises (v. 28). It is both affirmation for those who love the Lord but also warning for those who reject him. That their path is far from firm and their ultimate end far from happy is why Asaph speaks with such frank (some would say simplistic) language—he does not want any to be unaware of their “final destiny” (v. 17).
Psalm 73 in the New Testament. Surprisingly for such a significant psalm, Psalm 73 is not cited anywhere in the New Testament either by direct quotation or allusion. But the theological equation presented by Asaph is readily observable in Jesus’ teachings, especially in the Sermon on the Mount. Lifestyle as a choice between two ways—one affiliating with God and one rejecting God—lies at the heart of much of Christ’s teaching in the Gospels (e.g., Matt 7:13–27). Equally, Asaph’s warning that wealth and riches are illusory when it comes to ultimate meaning in life is echoed clearly in Jesus’ words about laying up treasure in heaven (Matt 6:19–34). As to the warning that the wicked find themselves on slippery ground and the strong distinction between the righteous and the wicked, these ideas are also made even more explicit in the New Testament’s teaching on final judgment (e.g., Matt 13:24–30, 36–50 et al.). Finally, Asaph’s great celebration of the privileges inherent to being a believer is echoed forcefully in Paul’s great statement of eternal security in Romans 8:28–39.
Contemporary Significance
HONESTY IN PRAYER. There are many aspects of Psalm 73 that are of great significance in our contemporary setting; however, perhaps the most significant avenue of application is also the one we find most difficult. Asaph is brutally honest in his poem, and his honesty is of a type we find difficult to replicate in our own life with God. There is an interesting dynamic at work in Psalm 73. Asaph refuses to voice his complaint against God before the community of faith, but we are probably meant to assume that Asaph did voice his complaint to God (though the text does not say so explicitly).45
Indeed, it could be argued that Asaph’s honest expression of the way in which he viewed life around him was essential to his reorientation. Asaph ultimately came to a more mature, fuller understanding of the true identity of his God and a better understanding of the riches he possessed in relationship with God. But the question we must ask is whether he would have come to this transformation of perspective had he not been honest in his prayer before Yahweh.
In this psalm (as in all the laments), we are confronted with the implication that we must be absolutely honest with God in prayer. The psalmists were never reluctant to give voice to their grief and sense of covenantal disappointment. From their perspective it often seemed that God had let them down, that he had not kept his part of the covenantal deal, and in their prayers they openly voiced their doubts to Yahweh. Neither the Old Testament songwriters nor the community of faith in general were reluctant to speak honestly to God of their distress, even when they viewed God as the source of their distress.46
We are not very comfortable with such openness and honesty in our contemporary Christian spirituality. It strikes us as impolite and inappropriate to speak to God in these ways, yet so much of the Bible is made up of laments of this type.47
Why was it appropriate then but seems inappropriate to us now? What is more, Jesus chose laments to voice his own feelings before his Father (e.g., Ps 22:1 in Mark 15:34; Ps 69:5 in John 15:25). Why was it appropriate for Jesus to speak and pray using this language, yet we are so uncomfortable with it? In the contemporary church in the Western world, there is an unwritten pressure placed upon Christians that assumes that we are always “Fine!” In fact, if we are not “fine” there must be something seriously wrong with our faith. This is not the attitude of the Bible! The Scriptures meet with us in all our humanity—good and bad, strong and weak, soaring with faith and wracked with doubt. In the Bible we find language that is appropriate to our every situation, and laments, like Asaph’s, are appropriate to those days when we ourselves are filled with doubts and uncertainties. It is important that we, today, make these prayers our own when they reflect our heart and mind and view of life.
Such honest spirituality may be new and uncomfortable for us, but two things we should bear in mind: (1) Asaph’s change of perspective would not have occurred without his honest meeting with God—voicing his complaint was part of his reorientation; (2) Why would we ever offer to God prayer that amounts to no more than a polite lie? The sovereign God sees our hearts and knows our moods and precisely how we see things. If we are disappointed or angry with God, he is fully aware of that fact, and there is no point in offering a politely dishonest prayer when it is only in the honest expression of our real mood and mindset that he can begin to heal, correct, restore, and reorient.
Seeing other people as God sees them. Another difficulty in contemporary society is the challenge to view our friends and neighbors from a godly perspective rather than from a worldly perspective. It is very easy to look round about us and see people who seem perfectly happy—people with a nice family, a good job/house/car, earning more money than we do, with no visible problems or tensions or turmoil. Very often those people around us who do not know Christ seem to have life sorted out and do not really appear to lack anything. So it is that today we can often fall into the same trap as Asaph did. We too can envy the wicked. But even if we do not envy the wicked in and of themselves, we can subconsciously assume that these folks have no needs. By the standards and priorities of the world, often they may not.
Christians today, however, need to remind themselves of Asaph’s sanctuary experience with God: “Then I understood their final destiny.” It is important to see our family, friends, and neighbors who are without Christ not from a worldly perspective of success and happiness but from the eternal perspective of a God who one day will judge. We must never forget Asaph’s lesson that those who are without the gospel stand on slippery ground. Success from a human perspective and worldly wealth are meaningless at the point of a person’s death. Ultimately, only one thing really matters—relationship with God through Christ! Those of us who believe must look beyond the physical wealth of others and remember their spiritual poverty, which can only be met through the declaration of all God’s deeds in Christ (Ps 73:28; cf. Rom 10:14–17).
Remember the richness of all that we have in Christ. Just as we can see others from the wrong perspective, so also we can misperceive ourselves. Certainly in contemporary Western Europe it would be fair to say that the tide of society flows against Christianity. In a world that is becoming more and more radically secularized, it is very easy for Christians to lapse into the type of mentality that thinks, “Woe is me! Life is hard! Everyone is against us!” But we must never forget that the reality of life in Christ is so very different from such pessimistic navel gazing. We have been given blessing after blessing, good gift after good gift, promise after promise, and encouragement after encouragement in and through the work of the Lord Jesus Christ!48
We must never forget the riches we have as the people of God—friendship with the Creator; eternal security guaranteed; meaning and purpose in life; kinship with a family that transcends every barrier of race and nationality; the promise of divine protection, guidance, provision, and help; and so much more besides. Just as Asaph came to realize that it is not worldly wealth which brings true richness, so we too must remember the great wealth we have as children of the Father through the sacrifice of the Son as we are strengthened through the Spirit.
Crisis and community. It is significant that the community of faith had a substantial influence in Asaph’s refusal to turn completely away from his life of faith. Crises of faith are best dealt with not alone but in the community of believers. Living only with our own thoughts, doubts, and fears in isolation from other believers will only worsen the tensions we face. We find help in community—others who have already experienced these things and who, therefore, can offer meaningful advice and prayers. Christian fellowship is essential to any healthy life of faith, but all the more so in days when we struggle in our own relationship with God (Heb 10:19–25).
Resolution in relationship. Psalm 73 addresses another question that is often a major problem for people contemplating the life of faith in the light of the suffering visible in this world. Time and time again, the question of theodicy has proven to be a stumbling block for philosophers and theologians alike. It is the type of question concerning which human beings, with all our limitations, can never attain an entirely satisfactory answer. Throughout the generations, some of the greatest minds in Christianity have sought to explain in terms of abstract logic the tension between the justice of God and the sufferings of this world. It appears to me that Asaph’s autobiographical story in Psalm 73 tells us that the solution to such problems can never be found in the realm of contemplation and logic alone; rather, Asaph’s story points to resolution in relationship. It was in meeting with God that Asaph’s crisis was resolved. His perspectives were transformed through the renewal of right relationship rather than through the logical deliberation that proved so burdensome to him (v. 16). Quite simply, the limitations of human logic are such that things only begin to make sense when we seek right relationship with the Creator rather than making complete logical understanding a prerequisite for entering into relationship with God.
Original Meaning
Reorientation (73:18–28)
SURELY YOU PLACE THEM ON SLIPPERY GROUND. The eternal angle on his temporal circumstance totally transforms Asaph’s perception of those wealthy individuals who had rejected a godly lifestyle. Before his encounter with God, these people seemed to “have it all going for them” as far as Asaph was concerned. “Always free of care, they go on amassing wealth” (v. 12). They were to him people to be envied. Yet here in verses 18–20 we witness Asaph’s dawning realization that, despite their present wealth, societal significance, boasting arrogance, and easy lifestyle, those who reject the ways of Yahweh are as insubstantial as the dust of the street. In the ideology of Psalm 1, which describes the wicked as “chaff” (the lightweight dust and residue that is blown away by the wind as part of the process of winnowing grain), Asaph ultimately sees that those who reject God amount to little more than passing images on the landscape of history. There is a sense of the prophetic about Asaph’s pronouncement in verses 18–20.27
The direct intervention of God breaks in to Asaph’s logical deliberations and provides a resolution by means of revelation. It is significant that the solution Asaph sought was to be found in meeting with God and not in contemplation alone.28
Interestingly, we see the echo of the word “surely” from verses 1 and 13 here again in verse 18. Whereas we read an element of doubt and pleading hope into the “surely” cry of verse 1, as well as the definiteness of his own suffering in verse 13, this particle takes on a greater element of certainty and hope after Asaph’s meeting with God. Now he sees that the hoped-for goodness of God is in fact a present reality that will be borne out in ultimate judgment. The psalmist’s encounter with the Creator has filled him with a trust and assurance that was lacking when he tried to find a resolution to his problem by himself. This “surely” stands in marked contrast to the doubts of verse 13. A different temporal perspective on the issue of God’s justice in this world fills Asaph with a renewed confidence—doubt has given way to hope.29
I was a brute beast before you. Asaph’s encounter with Yahweh leads him to the reassessment of his previous state of mind. He sees that which strikes the neutral observer as odd. His presentation of the wicked in verses 2–12 is far from pleasant. Apart from their wealth, why would anyone envy such people? So it is that, after his transformation of mind, Asaph comes to the realization that his previous perspective was entirely skewed. “I was senseless and ignorant; I was a brute beast before you” (v. 22). The words of the Hebrew text are perhaps even stronger: Asaph speaks about his heart as being embittered and his kidneys (the Hebrew metaphor that speaks of the seat of human emotions) as being pierced. He describes himself as “brutishly stupid” and “without knowledge” before Yahweh. It was this ignorance of God’s mystery and his inability to bring to mind the fact that God is simply bigger than our human understanding that led, in this case, to Asaph’s overemphasis on temporal reality as opposed to eternal reality. The moment of divine theophany, however, set those perspectives right, and now, looking back, the poet easily sees just how wrong he had gotten things.30
Yet I am always with you. As we have seen above, the root of Asaph’s envy of the wicked seems to have been based primarily in the wealth that they possessed. (There is little or nothing else that is attractive in Asaph’s description of them otherwise.) Here we see a beautiful transition between Asaph’s previous state of mind and his present spiritual and mental well-being. Asaph’s brutally frank description of his previously warped perspectives begins with the words, “But as for me” (v. 22, author’s translation). In the following verse, the same words (translated “yet” in the NIV) open Asaph’s celebration of the riches he comes to realize are his in relationship with Yahweh. “But as for me, I am always with you.” The repetition of this emphatic phrase draws attention to the total transformation of attitude that Asaph has undergone.
The change from the expected subject and object in this sentence also makes the reader stop and think. We are quite used to the many statements of Scripture in which God declares his presence with and commitment to his people. But here it is Asaph who speaks of his constant presence with the Almighty. The poet declares that he is always with God. There is a surprise factor at work here that makes us stop and think about the divine-human relationship. Asaph’s declaration reminds us of the reality of the covenantal relationship as “real” relationship. It is not a one-way street, where God does all the “relating” and we do all the “receiving”; rather, this relationship is analogous to all our human interactions, in which friendship and depth of contact requires effort on both sides. Asaph also realizes that he was with God—and God was with him—even throughout the darkness and confusion of his crisis of faith. He was and is always with God, and the Creator had been near and was helping him even in his dark days of doubt.31
His meeting with God awakens the poet to a profound awareness of the immense gift of divine presence.
This short phrase is telling in its magnitude. Asaph had been jealous of the wealthy wicked because of their apparent ease of life and their significance in society. But if there is a God who created all things and all people, a God of love, one who desires relationship with his creations, can there possibly be any greater blessing than to know and love that God? Asaph comes to the realization that nothing can possibly compare to the true wealth of knowing God and being loved by him.
You hold me by my right hand. Asaph’s new awareness that he is always with God is further strengthened by the knowledge that it is Yahweh who tenaciously maintains relationship even through the darkness of human doubt.32
The image of a hand held is a metaphor that speaks powerfully not only of presence but also of care. This God who is always present with Asaph is also the God who actively protects his people, just as a parent holds the hand of his child while crossing the street or when her small child walks on a wall.33
The image of being held by God’s right hand is particularly poignant in the light of verse 2, in which Asaph describes how close he was to stumbling and falling. Why is it that he only almost slipped? He realizes now that it is because Yahweh had held him by his right hand.
You guide me with your counsel. The imagery here is that of the royal court, where the king, faced with all the challenges of government, seeks counsel from his royal advisors. It is a picture that will be familiar to all those who grew up reading Shakespeare, in whose plays the tension is often to be found in the very issue of whose advice the king will follow. But Asaph turns the imagery on its head by celebrating advice from the King rather than for the king. Not only is God near, not only does God protect, but Asaph has also come to see that God guides by his direct intervention—guidance that is life and attitude transforming. The imagery of a deity’s taking someone by the hand and guiding him was commonly applied to kings in the ancient Near East, but here Asaph—as an “ordinary” believer—celebrates these same privileges.34
Yahweh takes him (and by implication every believer) by the hand and guides him by his divine counsel.
And afterward you will take me into glory. This final privilege of the four power-packed statements of verses 23–24 has evoked much discussion in the scholarly literature. It is often pointed out that the ancient Hebrews probably did not have a developed sense of the afterlife, so this statement must refer to something physical in the “here and now.” Some scholars suggest that this statement actually refers to the poet’s final entry into the presence of God in the temple, his transformation (v. 17) having occurred during the entrance rituals.35
Other interpreters suggest that the statement is simply a reference to the period after Asaph’s crisis of faith has passed, rather than one to life after death.36
But reading this statement as a reference to the psalmist’s eternal security in relationship with Yahweh makes a great deal of sense in contrast to the fleeting and temporal nature of the wicked.37
The Hebrew word for “afterward” (’ahar) is from the same root as the word used to describe the “final destiny” of the wicked in verse 17 (’aharit). There is little doubt that the reference in verse 17 is to the final judgment of those who reject the ways of Yahweh, so it makes sense to read the adverbial form here in verse 23 as a reference to the “final destiny” of the psalmist.38
Certainly this idea implies future security for God’s people in all that they face in life and, even if the poet did have such ideas in mind at the time of writing, there can be little doubt that in its reception over the years this text has come to be seen as a reference to eternal security beyond death.39
Whom have I in heaven but you? Asaph’s realization that, in terms of ultimate reality, he is the one who is truly rich, not the arrogant wicked, continues in the following verses (vv. 25–27). He begins with a rhetorical question in verse 25a that implies an answer to the question of verse 25b. Just as there is no one else in heaven who can hear and answer Asaph’s prayers, so the earth holds nothing of remotely comparable value to friendship with God. Those people whose lifestyle precipitated Asaph’s crisis of faith may have things, but things are nothing compared to an eternity of community with the Creator God! Asaph has come to remember where both security and meaning are truly to be found, and neither is to be found in possessions. There can be no greater treasure than covenantal relationship with the God who is near and involved in the lives of human beings.
God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. Continuing this theme of true wealth and reward, Asaph expresses his final understanding that, whatever he may gain in life, it is nothing compared to the reward that is to be found in life with God. He points out the passing nature of physical life (v. 26a) and contrasts that with the sure certainty of an unchanging deity who is in himself a reward for his people. The “strength” of my heart (NIV) is, more literally, the “rock” of my heart—an image that speaks of lasting certainty and stability (Ps 18:1–2), a stability Asaph was lacking when he took his eyes off his God (Ps 73:2). The idea of a “portion” in the Old Testament is associated with reward (Num 18:10; Deut 10:9; Josh 14:4–5), and Asaph now declares that his reward is not to be found in the trivial things such as possessions or money.40
His reward is knowing God and walking in his ways.
Bridging Contexts
OF THE RIGHTEOUS AND THE WICKED. The big issue for modern readers of Psalm 73 seems to be the identity of “the wicked” in this poem. During a recent home-group Bible study when we were discussing this psalm, my friends were fairly unequivocal in their condemnation of the group of people described in the psalm and found it difficult to understand why any believer would be envious of such individuals. Another aspect of the psalm that goes hand in hand with this issue is the “them and us” nature of the language adopted by Asaph. There seems little empathy for those whom Asaph initially envies. Some interpreters even read a note of adulation or boasting in Asaph’s final summary, which speaks of the ultimate destruction of those who reject the Lord. How are we to understand the language of “the righteous and the wicked” in this psalm and throughout the Psalter?
In our contemporary Christian understanding of these terms, we tend to think about “the righteous” as the very, very good,44
whereas “the wicked” are the very, very bad. Few Christians would number themselves among the former and, equally, few would see their neighbors as being numbered among the latter. For us, generally speaking, our contemporary use of these terms points to extremes that are beyond the normal human experience of the majority. This manner, however, is not the way in which the psalmist uses these ideas. Basically, “the wicked” (resha‘im) are all those who walk in a way that is contrary to the way of the Lord. We see this meaning most clearly in the book of Psalms itself and in the Old Testament’s wisdom literature. For example, Psalm 1:6 contrasts the “way of the righteous” with the “way of the wicked.” These “ways” are alternative lifestyles. The former indicates a person’s affiliation with Yahweh, whereas the latter indicates a person’s rejection of that lifestyle ordained as pleasing to God. So, essentially, the language of “the righteous and the wicked” at its most basic level speaks about an individual’s allegiance to God or rejection of him. The assumption is that the affiliation of “the righteous” will be evidenced in obedience to and proper worship of Yahweh. But the flip side of that coin is that the psalmists fully expect that the rejection of Yahweh by “the wicked” will ultimately be made plain in their patterns of behavior.
This understanding, therefore, provides the background for the somewhat stark “them and us” language of Psalm 73. Asaph voices the equation in very black and white terms because that is exactly how he views life: each individual is either with God or against him—there is no middle ground. In reading this text we should probably assume that some of those individuals whom Asaph envied would be present at the public reading of this psalm, as they were likely members of the visible covenant community. So, far from being indifferent to their attitude or rejoicing in their fate, Asaph’s poem is a clarion call for change. He has met with God and has gained an appreciation of the ultimate outworking of the choices we all make here and now. His poem, therefore, is an affirmation for those who trust in God but struggle with the apparent prosperity of those who reject him and the impunity with which they persecute others. But Psalm 73 is also a wake-up call to “the wicked.” They believe in a God who exists (v. 11), but they do not believe in a God who judges, in a God who intervenes. In this way Asaph’s poem, in and of itself, is the very act of proclamation that he promises (v. 28). It is both affirmation for those who love the Lord but also warning for those who reject him. That their path is far from firm and their ultimate end far from happy is why Asaph speaks with such frank (some would say simplistic) language—he does not want any to be unaware of their “final destiny” (v. 17).
Psalm 73 in the New Testament. Surprisingly for such a significant psalm, Psalm 73 is not cited anywhere in the New Testament either by direct quotation or allusion. But the theological equation presented by Asaph is readily observable in Jesus’ teachings, especially in the Sermon on the Mount. Lifestyle as a choice between two ways—one affiliating with God and one rejecting God—lies at the heart of much of Christ’s teaching in the Gospels (e.g., Matt 7:13–27). Equally, Asaph’s warning that wealth and riches are illusory when it comes to ultimate meaning in life is echoed clearly in Jesus’ words about laying up treasure in heaven (Matt 6:19–34). As to the warning that the wicked find themselves on slippery ground and the strong distinction between the righteous and the wicked, these ideas are also made even more explicit in the New Testament’s teaching on final judgment (e.g., Matt 13:24–30, 36–50 et al.). Finally, Asaph’s great celebration of the privileges inherent to being a believer is echoed forcefully in Paul’s great statement of eternal security in Romans 8:28–39.
Contemporary Significance
HONESTY IN PRAYER. There are many aspects of Psalm 73 that are of great significance in our contemporary setting; however, perhaps the most significant avenue of application is also the one we find most difficult. Asaph is brutally honest in his poem, and his honesty is of a type we find difficult to replicate in our own life with God. There is an interesting dynamic at work in Psalm 73. Asaph refuses to voice his complaint against God before the community of faith, but we are probably meant to assume that Asaph did voice his complaint to God (though the text does not say so explicitly).45
Indeed, it could be argued that Asaph’s honest expression of the way in which he viewed life around him was essential to his reorientation. Asaph ultimately came to a more mature, fuller understanding of the true identity of his God and a better understanding of the riches he possessed in relationship with God. But the question we must ask is whether he would have come to this transformation of perspective had he not been honest in his prayer before Yahweh.
In this psalm (as in all the laments), we are confronted with the implication that we must be absolutely honest with God in prayer. The psalmists were never reluctant to give voice to their grief and sense of covenantal disappointment. From their perspective it often seemed that God had let them down, that he had not kept his part of the covenantal deal, and in their prayers they openly voiced their doubts to Yahweh. Neither the Old Testament songwriters nor the community of faith in general were reluctant to speak honestly to God of their distress, even when they viewed God as the source of their distress.46
We are not very comfortable with such openness and honesty in our contemporary Christian spirituality. It strikes us as impolite and inappropriate to speak to God in these ways, yet so much of the Bible is made up of laments of this type.47
Why was it appropriate then but seems inappropriate to us now? What is more, Jesus chose laments to voice his own feelings before his Father (e.g., Ps 22:1 in Mark 15:34; Ps 69:5 in John 15:25). Why was it appropriate for Jesus to speak and pray using this language, yet we are so uncomfortable with it? In the contemporary church in the Western world, there is an unwritten pressure placed upon Christians that assumes that we are always “Fine!” In fact, if we are not “fine” there must be something seriously wrong with our faith. This is not the attitude of the Bible! The Scriptures meet with us in all our humanity—good and bad, strong and weak, soaring with faith and wracked with doubt. In the Bible we find language that is appropriate to our every situation, and laments, like Asaph’s, are appropriate to those days when we ourselves are filled with doubts and uncertainties. It is important that we, today, make these prayers our own when they reflect our heart and mind and view of life.
Such honest spirituality may be new and uncomfortable for us, but two things we should bear in mind: (1) Asaph’s change of perspective would not have occurred without his honest meeting with God—voicing his complaint was part of his reorientation; (2) Why would we ever offer to God prayer that amounts to no more than a polite lie? The sovereign God sees our hearts and knows our moods and precisely how we see things. If we are disappointed or angry with God, he is fully aware of that fact, and there is no point in offering a politely dishonest prayer when it is only in the honest expression of our real mood and mindset that he can begin to heal, correct, restore, and reorient.
Seeing other people as God sees them. Another difficulty in contemporary society is the challenge to view our friends and neighbors from a godly perspective rather than from a worldly perspective. It is very easy to look round about us and see people who seem perfectly happy—people with a nice family, a good job/house/car, earning more money than we do, with no visible problems or tensions or turmoil. Very often those people around us who do not know Christ seem to have life sorted out and do not really appear to lack anything. So it is that today we can often fall into the same trap as Asaph did. We too can envy the wicked. But even if we do not envy the wicked in and of themselves, we can subconsciously assume that these folks have no needs. By the standards and priorities of the world, often they may not.
Christians today, however, need to remind themselves of Asaph’s sanctuary experience with God: “Then I understood their final destiny.” It is important to see our family, friends, and neighbors who are without Christ not from a worldly perspective of success and happiness but from the eternal perspective of a God who one day will judge. We must never forget Asaph’s lesson that those who are without the gospel stand on slippery ground. Success from a human perspective and worldly wealth are meaningless at the point of a person’s death. Ultimately, only one thing really matters—relationship with God through Christ! Those of us who believe must look beyond the physical wealth of others and remember their spiritual poverty, which can only be met through the declaration of all God’s deeds in Christ (Ps 73:28; cf. Rom 10:14–17).
Remember the richness of all that we have in Christ. Just as we can see others from the wrong perspective, so also we can misperceive ourselves. Certainly in contemporary Western Europe it would be fair to say that the tide of society flows against Christianity. In a world that is becoming more and more radically secularized, it is very easy for Christians to lapse into the type of mentality that thinks, “Woe is me! Life is hard! Everyone is against us!” But we must never forget that the reality of life in Christ is so very different from such pessimistic navel gazing. We have been given blessing after blessing, good gift after good gift, promise after promise, and encouragement after encouragement in and through the work of the Lord Jesus Christ!48
We must never forget the riches we have as the people of God—friendship with the Creator; eternal security guaranteed; meaning and purpose in life; kinship with a family that transcends every barrier of race and nationality; the promise of divine protection, guidance, provision, and help; and so much more besides. Just as Asaph came to realize that it is not worldly wealth which brings true richness, so we too must remember the great wealth we have as children of the Father through the sacrifice of the Son as we are strengthened through the Spirit.
Crisis and community. It is significant that the community of faith had a substantial influence in Asaph’s refusal to turn completely away from his life of faith. Crises of faith are best dealt with not alone but in the community of believers. Living only with our own thoughts, doubts, and fears in isolation from other believers will only worsen the tensions we face. We find help in community—others who have already experienced these things and who, therefore, can offer meaningful advice and prayers. Christian fellowship is essential to any healthy life of faith, but all the more so in days when we struggle in our own relationship with God (Heb 10:19–25).
Resolution in relationship. Psalm 73 addresses another question that is often a major problem for people contemplating the life of faith in the light of the suffering visible in this world. Time and time again, the question of theodicy has proven to be a stumbling block for philosophers and theologians alike. It is the type of question concerning which human beings, with all our limitations, can never attain an entirely satisfactory answer. Throughout the generations, some of the greatest minds in Christianity have sought to explain in terms of abstract logic the tension between the justice of God and the sufferings of this world. It appears to me that Asaph’s autobiographical story in Psalm 73 tells us that the solution to such problems can never be found in the realm of contemplation and logic alone; rather, Asaph’s story points to resolution in relationship. It was in meeting with God that Asaph’s crisis was resolved. His perspectives were transformed through the renewal of right relationship rather than through the logical deliberation that proved so burdensome to him (v. 16). Quite simply, the limitations of human logic are such that things only begin to make sense when we seek right relationship with the Creator rather than making complete logical understanding a prerequisite for entering into relationship with God.
Original Meaning
Reorientation (73:18–28)
SURELY YOU PLACE THEM ON SLIPPERY GROUND. The eternal angle on his temporal circumstance totally transforms Asaph’s perception of those wealthy individuals who had rejected a godly lifestyle. Before his encounter with God, these people seemed to “have it all going for them” as far as Asaph was concerned. “Always free of care, they go on amassing wealth” (v. 12). They were to him people to be envied. Yet here in verses 18–20 we witness Asaph’s dawning realization that, despite their present wealth, societal significance, boasting arrogance, and easy lifestyle, those who reject the ways of Yahweh are as insubstantial as the dust of the street. In the ideology of Psalm 1, which describes the wicked as “chaff” (the lightweight dust and residue that is blown away by the wind as part of the process of winnowing grain), Asaph ultimately sees that those who reject God amount to little more than passing images on the landscape of history. There is a sense of the prophetic about Asaph’s pronouncement in verses 18–20.27
The direct intervention of God breaks in to Asaph’s logical deliberations and provides a resolution by means of revelation. It is significant that the solution Asaph sought was to be found in meeting with God and not in contemplation alone.28
Interestingly, we see the echo of the word “surely” from verses 1 and 13 here again in verse 18. Whereas we read an element of doubt and pleading hope into the “surely” cry of verse 1, as well as the definiteness of his own suffering in verse 13, this particle takes on a greater element of certainty and hope after Asaph’s meeting with God. Now he sees that the hoped-for goodness of God is in fact a present reality that will be borne out in ultimate judgment. The psalmist’s encounter with the Creator has filled him with a trust and assurance that was lacking when he tried to find a resolution to his problem by himself. This “surely” stands in marked contrast to the doubts of verse 13. A different temporal perspective on the issue of God’s justice in this world fills Asaph with a renewed confidence—doubt has given way to hope.29
I was a brute beast before you. Asaph’s encounter with Yahweh leads him to the reassessment of his previous state of mind. He sees that which strikes the neutral observer as odd. His presentation of the wicked in verses 2–12 is far from pleasant. Apart from their wealth, why would anyone envy such people? So it is that, after his transformation of mind, Asaph comes to the realization that his previous perspective was entirely skewed. “I was senseless and ignorant; I was a brute beast before you” (v. 22). The words of the Hebrew text are perhaps even stronger: Asaph speaks about his heart as being embittered and his kidneys (the Hebrew metaphor that speaks of the seat of human emotions) as being pierced. He describes himself as “brutishly stupid” and “without knowledge” before Yahweh. It was this ignorance of God’s mystery and his inability to bring to mind the fact that God is simply bigger than our human understanding that led, in this case, to Asaph’s overemphasis on temporal reality as opposed to eternal reality. The moment of divine theophany, however, set those perspectives right, and now, looking back, the poet easily sees just how wrong he had gotten things.30
Yet I am always with you. As we have seen above, the root of Asaph’s envy of the wicked seems to have been based primarily in the wealth that they possessed. (There is little or nothing else that is attractive in Asaph’s description of them otherwise.) Here we see a beautiful transition between Asaph’s previous state of mind and his present spiritual and mental well-being. Asaph’s brutally frank description of his previously warped perspectives begins with the words, “But as for me” (v. 22, author’s translation). In the following verse, the same words (translated “yet” in the NIV) open Asaph’s celebration of the riches he comes to realize are his in relationship with Yahweh. “But as for me, I am always with you.” The repetition of this emphatic phrase draws attention to the total transformation of attitude that Asaph has undergone.
The change from the expected subject and object in this sentence also makes the reader stop and think. We are quite used to the many statements of Scripture in which God declares his presence with and commitment to his people. But here it is Asaph who speaks of his constant presence with the Almighty. The poet declares that he is always with God. There is a surprise factor at work here that makes us stop and think about the divine-human relationship. Asaph’s declaration reminds us of the reality of the covenantal relationship as “real” relationship. It is not a one-way street, where God does all the “relating” and we do all the “receiving”; rather, this relationship is analogous to all our human interactions, in which friendship and depth of contact requires effort on both sides. Asaph also realizes that he was with God—and God was with him—even throughout the darkness and confusion of his crisis of faith. He was and is always with God, and the Creator had been near and was helping him even in his dark days of doubt.31
His meeting with God awakens the poet to a profound awareness of the immense gift of divine presence.
This short phrase is telling in its magnitude. Asaph had been jealous of the wealthy wicked because of their apparent ease of life and their significance in society. But if there is a God who created all things and all people, a God of love, one who desires relationship with his creations, can there possibly be any greater blessing than to know and love that God? Asaph comes to the realization that nothing can possibly compare to the true wealth of knowing God and being loved by him.
You hold me by my right hand. Asaph’s new awareness that he is always with God is further strengthened by the knowledge that it is Yahweh who tenaciously maintains relationship even through the darkness of human doubt.32
The image of a hand held is a metaphor that speaks powerfully not only of presence but also of care. This God who is always present with Asaph is also the God who actively protects his people, just as a parent holds the hand of his child while crossing the street or when her small child walks on a wall.33
The image of being held by God’s right hand is particularly poignant in the light of verse 2, in which Asaph describes how close he was to stumbling and falling. Why is it that he only almost slipped? He realizes now that it is because Yahweh had held him by his right hand.
You guide me with your counsel. The imagery here is that of the royal court, where the king, faced with all the challenges of government, seeks counsel from his royal advisors. It is a picture that will be familiar to all those who grew up reading Shakespeare, in whose plays the tension is often to be found in the very issue of whose advice the king will follow. But Asaph turns the imagery on its head by celebrating advice from the King rather than for the king. Not only is God near, not only does God protect, but Asaph has also come to see that God guides by his direct intervention—guidance that is life and attitude transforming. The imagery of a deity’s taking someone by the hand and guiding him was commonly applied to kings in the ancient Near East, but here Asaph—as an “ordinary” believer—celebrates these same privileges.34
Yahweh takes him (and by implication every believer) by the hand and guides him by his divine counsel.
And afterward you will take me into glory. This final privilege of the four power-packed statements of verses 23–24 has evoked much discussion in the scholarly literature. It is often pointed out that the ancient Hebrews probably did not have a developed sense of the afterlife, so this statement must refer to something physical in the “here and now.” Some scholars suggest that this statement actually refers to the poet’s final entry into the presence of God in the temple, his transformation (v. 17) having occurred during the entrance rituals.35
Other interpreters suggest that the statement is simply a reference to the period after Asaph’s crisis of faith has passed, rather than one to life after death.36
But reading this statement as a reference to the psalmist’s eternal security in relationship with Yahweh makes a great deal of sense in contrast to the fleeting and temporal nature of the wicked.37
The Hebrew word for “afterward” (’ahar) is from the same root as the word used to describe the “final destiny” of the wicked in verse 17 (’aharit). There is little doubt that the reference in verse 17 is to the final judgment of those who reject the ways of Yahweh, so it makes sense to read the adverbial form here in verse 23 as a reference to the “final destiny” of the psalmist.38
Certainly this idea implies future security for God’s people in all that they face in life and, even if the poet did have such ideas in mind at the time of writing, there can be little doubt that in its reception over the years this text has come to be seen as a reference to eternal security beyond death.39
Whom have I in heaven but you? Asaph’s realization that, in terms of ultimate reality, he is the one who is truly rich, not the arrogant wicked, continues in the following verses (vv. 25–27). He begins with a rhetorical question in verse 25a that implies an answer to the question of verse 25b. Just as there is no one else in heaven who can hear and answer Asaph’s prayers, so the earth holds nothing of remotely comparable value to friendship with God. Those people whose lifestyle precipitated Asaph’s crisis of faith may have things, but things are nothing compared to an eternity of community with the Creator God! Asaph has come to remember where both security and meaning are truly to be found, and neither is to be found in possessions. There can be no greater treasure than covenantal relationship with the God who is near and involved in the lives of human beings.
God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. Continuing this theme of true wealth and reward, Asaph expresses his final understanding that, whatever he may gain in life, it is nothing compared to the reward that is to be found in life with God. He points out the passing nature of physical life (v. 26a) and contrasts that with the sure certainty of an unchanging deity who is in himself a reward for his people. The “strength” of my heart (NIV) is, more literally, the “rock” of my heart—an image that speaks of lasting certainty and stability (Ps 18:1–2), a stability Asaph was lacking when he took his eyes off his God (Ps 73:2). The idea of a “portion” in the Old Testament is associated with reward (Num 18:10; Deut 10:9; Josh 14:4–5), and Asaph now declares that his reward is not to be found in the trivial things such as possessions or money.40
His reward is knowing God and walking in his ways.
Bridging Contexts
OF THE RIGHTEOUS AND THE WICKED. The big issue for modern readers of Psalm 73 seems to be the identity of “the wicked” in this poem. During a recent home-group Bible study when we were discussing this psalm, my friends were fairly unequivocal in their condemnation of the group of people described in the psalm and found it difficult to understand why any believer would be envious of such individuals. Another aspect of the psalm that goes hand in hand with this issue is the “them and us” nature of the language adopted by Asaph. There seems little empathy for those whom Asaph initially envies. Some interpreters even read a note of adulation or boasting in Asaph’s final summary, which speaks of the ultimate destruction of those who reject the Lord. How are we to understand the language of “the righteous and the wicked” in this psalm and throughout the Psalter?
In our contemporary Christian understanding of these terms, we tend to think about “the righteous” as the very, very good,44
whereas “the wicked” are the very, very bad. Few Christians would number themselves among the former and, equally, few would see their neighbors as being numbered among the latter. For us, generally speaking, our contemporary use of these terms points to extremes that are beyond the normal human experience of the majority. This manner, however, is not the way in which the psalmist uses these ideas. Basically, “the wicked” (resha‘im) are all those who walk in a way that is contrary to the way of the Lord. We see this meaning most clearly in the book of Psalms itself and in the Old Testament’s wisdom literature. For example, Psalm 1:6 contrasts the “way of the righteous” with the “way of the wicked.” These “ways” are alternative lifestyles. The former indicates a person’s affiliation with Yahweh, whereas the latter indicates a person’s rejection of that lifestyle ordained as pleasing to God. So, essentially, the language of “the righteous and the wicked” at its most basic level speaks about an individual’s allegiance to God or rejection of him. The assumption is that the affiliation of “the righteous” will be evidenced in obedience to and proper worship of Yahweh. But the flip side of that coin is that the psalmists fully expect that the rejection of Yahweh by “the wicked” will ultimately be made plain in their patterns of behavior.
This understanding, therefore, provides the background for the somewhat stark “them and us” language of Psalm 73. Asaph voices the equation in very black and white terms because that is exactly how he views life: each individual is either with God or against him—there is no middle ground. In reading this text we should probably assume that some of those individuals whom Asaph envied would be present at the public reading of this psalm, as they were likely members of the visible covenant community. So, far from being indifferent to their attitude or rejoicing in their fate, Asaph’s poem is a clarion call for change. He has met with God and has gained an appreciation of the ultimate outworking of the choices we all make here and now. His poem, therefore, is an affirmation for those who trust in God but struggle with the apparent prosperity of those who reject him and the impunity with which they persecute others. But Psalm 73 is also a wake-up call to “the wicked.” They believe in a God who exists (v. 11), but they do not believe in a God who judges, in a God who intervenes. In this way Asaph’s poem, in and of itself, is the very act of proclamation that he promises (v. 28). It is both affirmation for those who love the Lord but also warning for those who reject him. That their path is far from firm and their ultimate end far from happy is why Asaph speaks with such frank (some would say simplistic) language—he does not want any to be unaware of their “final destiny” (v. 17).
Psalm 73 in the New Testament. Surprisingly for such a significant psalm, Psalm 73 is not cited anywhere in the New Testament either by direct quotation or allusion. But the theological equation presented by Asaph is readily observable in Jesus’ teachings, especially in the Sermon on the Mount. Lifestyle as a choice between two ways—one affiliating with God and one rejecting God—lies at the heart of much of Christ’s teaching in the Gospels (e.g., Matt 7:13–27). Equally, Asaph’s warning that wealth and riches are illusory when it comes to ultimate meaning in life is echoed clearly in Jesus’ words about laying up treasure in heaven (Matt 6:19–34). As to the warning that the wicked find themselves on slippery ground and the strong distinction between the righteous and the wicked, these ideas are also made even more explicit in the New Testament’s teaching on final judgment (e.g., Matt 13:24–30, 36–50 et al.). Finally, Asaph’s great celebration of the privileges inherent to being a believer is echoed forcefully in Paul’s great statement of eternal security in Romans 8:28–39.
Contemporary Significance
HONESTY IN PRAYER. There are many aspects of Psalm 73 that are of great significance in our contemporary setting; however, perhaps the most significant avenue of application is also the one we find most difficult. Asaph is brutally honest in his poem, and his honesty is of a type we find difficult to replicate in our own life with God. There is an interesting dynamic at work in Psalm 73. Asaph refuses to voice his complaint against God before the community of faith, but we are probably meant to assume that Asaph did voice his complaint to God (though the text does not say so explicitly).45
Indeed, it could be argued that Asaph’s honest expression of the way in which he viewed life around him was essential to his reorientation. Asaph ultimately came to a more mature, fuller understanding of the true identity of his God and a better understanding of the riches he possessed in relationship with God. But the question we must ask is whether he would have come to this transformation of perspective had he not been honest in his prayer before Yahweh.
In this psalm (as in all the laments), we are confronted with the implication that we must be absolutely honest with God in prayer. The psalmists were never reluctant to give voice to their grief and sense of covenantal disappointment. From their perspective it often seemed that God had let them down, that he had not kept his part of the covenantal deal, and in their prayers they openly voiced their doubts to Yahweh. Neither the Old Testament songwriters nor the community of faith in general were reluctant to speak honestly to God of their distress, even when they viewed God as the source of their distress.46
We are not very comfortable with such openness and honesty in our contemporary Christian spirituality. It strikes us as impolite and inappropriate to speak to God in these ways, yet so much of the Bible is made up of laments of this type.47
Why was it appropriate then but seems inappropriate to us now? What is more, Jesus chose laments to voice his own feelings before his Father (e.g., Ps 22:1 in Mark 15:34; Ps 69:5 in John 15:25). Why was it appropriate for Jesus to speak and pray using this language, yet we are so uncomfortable with it? In the contemporary church in the Western world, there is an unwritten pressure placed upon Christians that assumes that we are always “Fine!” In fact, if we are not “fine” there must be something seriously wrong with our faith. This is not the attitude of the Bible! The Scriptures meet with us in all our humanity—good and bad, strong and weak, soaring with faith and wracked with doubt. In the Bible we find language that is appropriate to our every situation, and laments, like Asaph’s, are appropriate to those days when we ourselves are filled with doubts and uncertainties. It is important that we, today, make these prayers our own when they reflect our heart and mind and view of life.
Such honest spirituality may be new and uncomfortable for us, but two things we should bear in mind: (1) Asaph’s change of perspective would not have occurred without his honest meeting with God—voicing his complaint was part of his reorientation; (2) Why would we ever offer to God prayer that amounts to no more than a polite lie? The sovereign God sees our hearts and knows our moods and precisely how we see things. If we are disappointed or angry with God, he is fully aware of that fact, and there is no point in offering a politely dishonest prayer when it is only in the honest expression of our real mood and mindset that he can begin to heal, correct, restore, and reorient.
Seeing other people as God sees them. Another difficulty in contemporary society is the challenge to view our friends and neighbors from a godly perspective rather than from a worldly perspective. It is very easy to look round about us and see people who seem perfectly happy—people with a nice family, a good job/house/car, earning more money than we do, with no visible problems or tensions or turmoil. Very often those people around us who do not know Christ seem to have life sorted out and do not really appear to lack anything. So it is that today we can often fall into the same trap as Asaph did. We too can envy the wicked. But even if we do not envy the wicked in and of themselves, we can subconsciously assume that these folks have no needs. By the standards and priorities of the world, often they may not.
Christians today, however, need to remind themselves of Asaph’s sanctuary experience with God: “Then I understood their final destiny.” It is important to see our family, friends, and neighbors who are without Christ not from a worldly perspective of success and happiness but from the eternal perspective of a God who one day will judge. We must never forget Asaph’s lesson that those who are without the gospel stand on slippery ground. Success from a human perspective and worldly wealth are meaningless at the point of a person’s death. Ultimately, only one thing really matters—relationship with God through Christ! Those of us who believe must look beyond the physical wealth of others and remember their spiritual poverty, which can only be met through the declaration of all God’s deeds in Christ (Ps 73:28; cf. Rom 10:14–17).
Remember the richness of all that we have in Christ. Just as we can see others from the wrong perspective, so also we can misperceive ourselves. Certainly in contemporary Western Europe it would be fair to say that the tide of society flows against Christianity. In a world that is becoming more and more radically secularized, it is very easy for Christians to lapse into the type of mentality that thinks, “Woe is me! Life is hard! Everyone is against us!” But we must never forget that the reality of life in Christ is so very different from such pessimistic navel gazing. We have been given blessing after blessing, good gift after good gift, promise after promise, and encouragement after encouragement in and through the work of the Lord Jesus Christ!48
We must never forget the riches we have as the people of God—friendship with the Creator; eternal security guaranteed; meaning and purpose in life; kinship with a family that transcends every barrier of race and nationality; the promise of divine protection, guidance, provision, and help; and so much more besides. Just as Asaph came to realize that it is not worldly wealth which brings true richness, so we too must remember the great wealth we have as children of the Father through the sacrifice of the Son as we are strengthened through the Spirit.
Crisis and community. It is significant that the community of faith had a substantial influence in Asaph’s refusal to turn completely away from his life of faith. Crises of faith are best dealt with not alone but in the community of believers. Living only with our own thoughts, doubts, and fears in isolation from other believers will only worsen the tensions we face. We find help in community—others who have already experienced these things and who, therefore, can offer meaningful advice and prayers. Christian fellowship is essential to any healthy life of faith, but all the more so in days when we struggle in our own relationship with God (Heb 10:19–25).
Resolution in relationship. Psalm 73 addresses another question that is often a major problem for people contemplating the life of faith in the light of the suffering visible in this world. Time and time again, the question of theodicy has proven to be a stumbling block for philosophers and theologians alike. It is the type of question concerning which human beings, with all our limitations, can never attain an entirely satisfactory answer. Throughout the generations, some of the greatest minds in Christianity have sought to explain in terms of abstract logic the tension between the justice of God and the sufferings of this world. It appears to me that Asaph’s autobiographical story in Psalm 73 tells us that the solution to such problems can never be found in the realm of contemplation and logic alone; rather, Asaph’s story points to resolution in relationship. It was in meeting with God that Asaph’s crisis was resolved. His perspectives were transformed through the renewal of right relationship rather than through the logical deliberation that proved so burdensome to him (v. 16). Quite simply, the limitations of human logic are such that things only begin to make sense when we seek right relationship with the Creator rather than making complete logical understanding a prerequisite for entering into relationship with God.
NIDOTTE 1:361–2. Longman comments, “Contrary to the opinion of many scholars, it seems likely that the psalmist himself harboured an eternal hope, and by the time of the New Testament, readers would (and did) read this language as indicating eternal life” (Longman, Psalms, 277).