The Bible is a book of answers, and not a book of unending puzzles. When his disciples asked why he spoke to the crowd in parables, Jesus answered, “Because it is given unto you to know the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it is not given” (Matthew 13:11, KJV). The inability to understand the things of God is not a religious attainment, but a sign of reprobation. Theologians have the self-damning habit of parading this curse of the demon-spawned as if it is an emblem of holiness and reverence. “But,” you say, “don’t you believe in the creator-creature distinction?” Of course! This is why when the creator tells you that you can understand something, you better bow down and admit that you can understand it, and understand it very well.

Jesus said to his men, “I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you” (John 15:15). What does this say about those preachers and theologians who impose a mandate of incomprehensibility upon the people of God, as if it is a moral duty for us to avoid understanding and to confess that understanding is impossible? It can only mean that they are not the friends of Christ, and that they do not want you to be his friends, either.

They say to us, “Come now, come with us to this cave of darkness. There we shall find God. And when we find him, he will make everything darker still, until everything becomes madness and confusion.” But we reply, “Go away from us, you messengers of Satan! Our Christ is the light of life, and has come to expound on God and salvation. He has come to give us an understanding, to awaken our intelligence, to grant us interest and perception into the things of God. Ah, look up, look up! There he is, as bright as the noonday sun. We will not come with you, but we shall go to him.”

One of the enduring questions that Christians agonize about is the prosperity of the wicked. Asaph, the writer of Psalm 73, saw that the wicked lived without problems, infirmities, and burdens. They increased in pride and violence, in wealth and followers. And they even boasted, “How can God know? Does the Most High have knowledge?” Yet trouble did not befall them, and their success continued unabated. Asaph was so disturbed by this that he had a crisis of faith. He thought, “Surely in vain have I kept my heart pure; in vain have I washed my hands in innocence.” It seemed to him, as it appears to many others, that if anyone should be rich, strong, and happy, it should be the one who serves God in faith and reverence. Why are the wicked rewarded, and the righteous punished?

Even in this dismal condition, Asaph remained faithful at a crucial point. As he thought about this, the matter became “oppressive” to him. But he realized that if he had vented to others, “I would have betrayed your children.” Many preachers and theologians today speak as if they are agents of the devil and of unbelief. They identify with men’s bitter complaints against God in the name of empathy. They encourage men to unleash their suspicion and resentment against divine providence even in prayer, or especially in prayer, and assure them that in doing so, they would only be imitating the prophets and the best of the saints. Instead of saying, “Be still and know that he is God, lest you blaspheme in your mind or in your speech,” they say, “He is your father! Blast him with all you’ve got!” This, in fact, seems to me as the majority view. But Asaph makes a right judgment – they are traitors, not teachers and comforters. They encourage God’s people to blaspheme, and to do it right to his face.

Then, Asaph was held up by God’s power, and guided by God’s counsel (v. 23-24), and as he drew near to God, he perceived the answer that resolved the whole matter. He “understood their final destiny,” and realized that the wicked prospered because God placed them “on slippery ground.” He surrounded the reprobates with comforts and with friends so that they would increase in pride, and so that they would become callused in sin. The prosperity of the wicked is not a reward, but a snare.

Asaph realized something else. He perceived that God did not leave him with nothing, but he had the only thing that mattered – God himself. He wrote, “Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” The suffering of the righteous is to keep them alert in the spirit, and to compel them to mature in knowledge and godliness.

The prosperity of the wicked is to keep them spiritually asleep, and unaware of the fire and brimstone that will shortly rain upon them. When God arises against them, he “will despise them,” because he “will destroy all who are unfaithful.” Asaph concluded, “But as for me, it is good to be near God. I have made the Sovereign LORD my refuge; I will tell of all your deeds.” The divine counsel gave him renewed appreciation for his place in God, and renewed motivation for service.

Growing up, and before I was very familiar with the Bible, one of the enduring questions that I puzzled over was not the prosperity of the wicked, but why Christians would agonize over the prosperity of the wicked. It seemed to me that they were weak in spirit, unholy and irreverent. This opinion would meet with overwhelming opposition in almost all Christian circles, but it is the opinion of Scripture, God’s own verdict on the matter. Asaph admitted that while his heart was grieved and embittered, he was “senseless and ignorant,” even “a brute beast” before the Lord. If Christians could learn to agree with this, it would revolutionize our preaching and counseling, and produce true faith and reverence in God’s people.