Dietrich Bonhoeffer once wrote:

In many churches the Psalms are read or sung every Sunday, or even daily, in succession. These churches have preserved a priceless treasure, for only with daily use does one appropriate this divine prayerbook. When read only occasionally, these prayers are too overwhelming in design and power and tend to turn us back to more palatable fare. But whoever has begun to pray the Psalter seriously and regularly will soon give a vacation to other little devotional prayers and say: “Ah, there is not the juice, the strength, the passion, the fire which I find in the Psalter. It tastes too cold and too hard” (Luther).

Therefore, wherever we no longer pray the Psalms in our churches, we must take up the Psalter that much more in our daily morning and evening prayers, reading and praying together at least several Psalms every day so that we succeed in reading through this book a number of times each year, getting into it deeper and deeper. We also ought not to select Psalms at our own discretion, thinking that we know better what we ought to pray than God himself. To do that is to dishonor the prayerbook of the Bible. In the ancient church it was not usual to memorize “the entire David.” In one of the eastern churches this was a prerequisite for the pastoral office. The church father St. Jerome says that one heard the Psalms being sung in the fields and gardens in his time. The Psalter impregnated the life of early Christianity. Yet more important than all this is the fact that Jesus died on the cross with the words of the Psalter on his lips.

Whenever the Psalter is abandoned, an incomparable treasure vanishes from the Christian church. With its recovery will come unsuspected power. (Psalms, 25-26)

Whenever I first read those words in 2015, I suspected that Bonhoeffer was correct, so I immediately began to read from the Psalms as a part of my own daily worship. I also incorporated them into the Lord’s Day worship, beginning in Psalm 1 and continuing right through to the end, twice so far. And because the Psalms are never far from my mind and heart, I began a couple of years ago to start each year by preaching from Psalms and then Proverbs. Therefore, we turn to Psalm 73 this morning as the opening text of this New Year.

MY FEET ALMOST SLIPPED // VERSES 1-15

Psalm 73 begins the third book of the Psalms, and its author is Asaph, who was one of David’s chief singers. Nothing more is known about the date or occasion for which this psalm was composed, but I believe that Dick Wynia is correct to see this psalm as a “counterweight” to Psalm 1. In that marvelous introductory psalm, we are told of the righteous who meditate day and night on God’s law and are, therefore, like mighty trees within the garden of Eden. In all that they do, they prosper, but the wicked are blown into destruction like chaff in the wind. We ought to meditate deeply upon that psalm and strive to find such blessedness in God’s Word.

Psalm 73 is a counterweight to that psalm, for here Asaph addresses a question that lurks over our shoulders as we read Psalm 1: Why then do the wicked often prosper and the righteous suffer? Of course, we tend more ask why bad things happen to good people. And the answer begins with acknowledging that no one is good but God alone. The Scriptures, however, wrestle more with why good things seem to happen to wicked people. And that is Asaph’s address here.

Importantly, he begins the psalm with his theological foundation: Truly God is good to Israel, to those who are pure in heart. God is good to His people, and notice that Asaph defines true Israel as those who are pure in heart, for his description of the wicked in verses 4-12 can easily apply to unfaithful Israelites as much as pagan Gentiles. This is Asaph’s conviction and belief by faith. The author of Hebrews rightly calls faith a conviction of things not seen, for Asaph goes on to explain how this premise was tried in this own life. Indeed, Calvin argues that even the first word of the psalm alludes to his spiritual strife:

The adverb אך, ach, does not here imply a simple affirmation certainly, as it often does in other places, but is taken adversatively for yet, notwithstanding, or some similar word. David opens the psalm abruptly; and from this we learn, what is worthy of particular notice, that before he broke forth into this language, his mind had been agitated with many doubts and conflicting suggestions. As a brave and valiant champion, he had been exercised in very painful struggles and temptations; but, after long and arduous exertion, he at length succeeded in shaking off all perverse imaginations, and came to the conclusion that yet God is gracious to his servants, and the faithful guardian of their welfare. Thus these words contain a tacit contrast between the unhallowed imaginations suggested to him by Satan, and the testimony in favour of true religion with which he now strengthens himself, denouncing, as it were, the judgment of the flesh, in giving place to misgiving thoughts with respect to the providence of God. We see then how emphatic is this exclamation of the Psalmist. (123-124)

But as for me, my feet had almost stumbled, my steps had nearly slipped. In contrast to the foundational truth of verse 1, Asaph says that he nearly fell. The poetic image of his feet stumbling and his steps slipping ought to make us think of person walking upon a mountain path where a fall means great injury or even death. Spurgeon says that “his feet ran away from under him like those of a man on a sheet of ice” (247). Thus, Asaph was on the precipice of falling into a great sin, of which he narrowly escaped.

But what led to that danger? Verse 3 explains: For I was envious of the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the wicked. This verse is the thesis and summary of Asaph’s wrestling. He saw the prosperity of the wicked, and he became envious of them. Verses 4-12 describe that prosperity.

For they have no pangs until death;
their bodies are fat and sleek.
They are not in trouble as others are;
they are not stricken like the rest of mankind.
Therefore pride is their necklace;
violence covers them as a garment.
Their eyes swell out through fatness;
their hearts overflow with follies.
They scoff and speak with malice;
loftily they threaten oppression.
hey set their mouths against the heavens,
and their tongue struts through the earth.
Therefore his people turn back to them,
and find no fault in them.
And they say, “How can God know?
Is there knowledge in the Most High?”
Behold, these are the wicked;
always at ease, they increase in riches.

Let us briefly point out a few things about Asaph’s words here. First, he describes the wicked as fat. While fatness is largely negative today, it was a sign of wealth in the ancient world. To our knowledge, we are the first society that has had a crisis of obesity. Previously, only kings and the wealthiest could afford to be fat. The struggle for everyone else was trying to obtain enough food to live. So by calling the wicked fat, Asaph is saying that they live like kings without worrying about their next meal.

Second, he notes that their lives are free from trouble. They live at ease, having “no pangs until death.” Of course, the grave swallows up all men, but until that day, they live in comfort and wealth. While wealth and comfort are not themselves sinful, it is by no means an accurate means of discerning God’s favor.

Third, because of these things, they are prideful. They “threaten oppression” (v. 8), and we can assume that much of their wealth was gained through oppression. But rather than consider the tugging of their conscience, they scorn and blaspheme God. But rather than being stricken dead for their insolence, they continue to prosper.

With this on his mind, Asaph then makes this lament:

All in vain have I kept my heart clean
and washed my hands in innocence.
For all the day long I have been stricken
and rebuked every morning.

This is the thought that causes Asaph to almost stumble. If the wicked are comfortable and prosperous in their wickedness, weren’t his attempts to live righteously just a massive waste of effort?

But though we do not know how long Asaph wrestled with those thoughts, he crucially does not linger over them here. Instead, he notes in verse 15: If I had said, “I will speak thus,” I would have betrayed the generation of your children. Wynia notes that

Asaph uses a strong word that means “to deal treacherously, unfaithfully,” and is used elsewhere to refer to the destruction of a marriage by divorce (Mal. 2:10-16). In other words, by expressing his complaint, he would have broken his covenantal obligation to God’s own children by raising questions about God’s justice. (4)

Given that we live in a time where being authentic is one of our society’s highest virtues, this seems to a particularly important verse for us to consider. Of course, there is nothing innately sinful about having doubts, and we should not internalize them. Indeed, Jude 22 tells us to “have mercy on those who doubt.” However, there is also wisdom in not so openly sharing such struggles that other believers might be similarly led to almost stumbling. This is not to say that we should put on a front or be inauthentic, but we must keep in mind that different relationships operate at different depths. And the Holy Spirit gives us wisdom through Asaph that these kinds of struggles ought to be honestly shared with a handful of our closest and deepest Christian relationship. But it is also worth pointing out that Asaph’s final line of the psalm will be about his intention to proudly declare that God is his refuge and that it is good to be near the LORD.

THEN I DISCERNED THEIR END // VERSES 16-28

Verse 16 begins the great turn. But when I thought of how to understand this, it seemed to me a wearisome, until I went into the sanctuary of God; then I discerned their end.

While lamenting that he would never understand the prosperity of the wicked, he walks into the temple (the sanctuary of God), and as another translation puts it, he “reflected on their fate.” Verses 18-20 describe that fate:

Truly you set them in slippery places;
you make them fall to ruin.
How they are destroyed in a moment,
swept away utterly by terrors!
Like a dream when one awakes,
O Lord, when you rouse yourself, you despise them as phantoms.

Asaph is not here speaking about earthly torments, although the LORD does sometimes deal those out as well. Instead, he is speaking of their end, their eternal torment. Even if they never face any difficulty until death, the grave does surely come for them. Indeed, the great wickedness of Ahab and Jezebel, of Caligula and Nero, of Hitler and Mao was nothing more than a passing phantom. If the rich man in Jesus’ story is any indication, those who are in hell would gladly trade all of their wealth and kingdoms in this earth to have only a drop of water placed on their tongue there. If that is their end, then what good is their wealth even now? As Jesus Himself said, “For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul” (Mark 8:36)?

As for Asaph himself, his own view of his righteousness dwindles, and he now sees himself more clearly:

When my soul was embittered,
when I was pricked in heart,
I was brutish and ignorant;
I was like a beast toward you. (vv. 21-22)

The envy in his heart had begun to foster bitterness toward the LORD. But in this, he was acting sub-human, like a mere animal. For as an animal knows no hope of the future but only lives for momentary pleasure, such was Asaph’s view of the wicked. Spurgeon rightly says that “the Psalmist judged happiness by this mortal life, by outward appearances, and by fleshly enjoyments. Thus he had, for the time, renounced the dignity of an immortal spirit, and, like a mere animal, judged after the sight of the eyes” (252).

But let us remember what roused Asaph from his beastly ignorance: he went into the sanctuary of God (v. 17). What about going into the temple jolted the Psalmist from his envy of the wicked and reminded him of their end? Surely it was the sacrifices being made. Perhaps he watched with fresh eyes as an Israelite laid his hands upon the head of his goat and prayed for the Yahweh to let his sins be transferred to the animal. Then he sliced its throat open and let all its life-blood drain out. Next, the priest laid the sacrifice upon the bronze altar, burning it away in the presence of the Yahweh.

Asaph was a Levite, so this sight was nothing new to him; he was regularly in the temple. But what had become rote became new again. Indeed, maybe he went to the temple to offer his own sacrifice, doing so more out of habit than anything else. Can you picture him leading his goat by the rope toward the temple, watching each heavy foot slap the ground, wondering if the ritual would even do any good? Something in the scene arrested him. With fresh vision, he saw the reality of his sin and the true vanity of his righteousness. He was no better than the goat before him. Indeed, it was there in his place. He deserved to die, for every time he dressed up the truth with a lie, for every lustful thought, for every murderous insult, and, yes, for coveting. And upon all of that, he had now been erecting himself into the judge of the Most High. By envying them, Asaph was already becoming like the wicked, for in his heart he began to wonder, “Is there knowledge in the Most High” (v. 11)?

Of course, the goat was burned with a physical fire, but Asaph, like the rest of mankind, deserved eternal flames. He was a pot in rebellion against His Potter, the eternal Maker of heaven and earth. Just as each of the treasonous angels will receive eternal torment, so does each sinful man and woman, boy and girl, deserve to receive likewise.

And yet Asaph had not died. The goat did, instead.

Then he heard the voice of the priest:

Yahweh bless you and keep you;
Yahweh make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you;
Yahweh lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace.

It seemed too good to be true, but really it was too good not to be true. God could not overlook his sin, for there is all-knowledge in the Most High. And justice, as well. But a beast had been sacrificed in his place. It received the flames of God’s righteous anger, and he now walks away with the blessing and favor of Yahweh, with the face of His Maker shining upon him.

Seeing the goodness and mercy of God to make atonement for his sins and to providentially keep him from slipping into becoming like the wicked through his envy of them, Asaph now writes:

Nevertheless, I am continually with you;
you hold my right hand.
You guide me with your counsel,
and afterward you will receive me to glory.
Whom have I in heaven but you?
And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

Asaph now rightly sees how prosperous he truly is. Yahweh is his God. The One who spoke the sun and moon into existence upholds him and guides him. More than that, Asaph’s death will not cast him into sudden terrors and everlasting ruin; instead, it will be glory. Recall that at the end of Exodus Moses could not enter the tabernacle because the glory of Yahweh had filled it. The same thing happened at the dedication of the temple as well (1 Kings 8:10-11), which Asaph may have seen firsthand. Through death, Asaph trusts that he will be welcomed into that very glory of the LORD, where there are “pleasures forevermore” (Psalm 16:11).

Verses 25-26 then beautifully express Asaph’s confidence and delight in Yahweh alone. He mentions both heaven and earth, for they represent all of creation. In contemplating heaven, he finds God alone to be its joy and glory. The LORD Himself is what makes heaven heavenly. And on earth, Asaph says that God is his sole desire, his only source of delight and pleasure. Of course, earth and heaven go together. It was Asaph’s delight in God on earth that readied him for the entering the God’s glory in heaven. John Owen writes:

By beholding the glory of Christ we shall be made fit and ready for heaven. Not all who desire to go to heaven are fit and ready for it. Some are not only unworthy of it and excluded from it because of unforgiven sin; they are no prepared for it. Should they be admitted, they would never enjoy it. All of us naturally regard ourselves as fit for eternal glory. But few of us have any idea of how unfit we really are, because we have had no experience of that glory of Christ which is in heaven. Men shall not be clothed with glory, as it were, whether they want to be or not. It is to be received only by faith. But fallen man is incapable of believing. Music cannot please a deaf man, nor can beautiful colours impress a blind man. A fish would not thank you for taking it out of the sea and putting it on dry land under the blazing sun! Neither would an unregenerate sinner welcome the thought of living for ever in the blazing glory of Christ. (Glory of Christ, 7-8)

But, someone may ask, wasn’t Asaph placing his confidence in animal sacrifices to atone for his sin? Doesn’t that contradict everything that we read in Hebrews and Galatians? Certainly not! Asaph here gives us a wonderful example of how the Old Testament saints were still saved by grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone. Notice that he does place his faith in the sacrificed animal but in God Himself. He knew the insufficiency of animals to take away sins, but he was obedient to God’s commands and trusted the LORD to forgive his sins. In this way, without knowing Christ’s name, he was placing his trust in Jesus’ once-for-all sacrifice.

Now Asaph brings his psalm to its conclusion. For behold, those who are far from you shall perish; you put an end to everyone who is unfaithful to you. Whatever earthly prosperity and ease the wicked have, this is their end. Everyone who is adulterous to the LORD will utterly perish. Indeed, their longevity and comfort will only be a source of greater distress on the day of judgment. It is God’s kindness to the damned to cut their lives and, therefore, their sins short. Conversely, it is God’s indignation to give them over to their sins and length their days so that they may accumulate ever more judgment upon themselves.

As for Asaph, he ends where he began, with the goodness of God, but there is a slight but significant shift. In verse 1, he declared the theological reality that God is good to His people, which is wonderfully true. But now at the end of the psalm and after his battle with envy, that truth is much more personal: But for me it is good to be near God; I have made the Lord GOD my refuge, that I may tell of all your ways. Rather than lift himself up in pride against God, Asaph submits himself to Him, calling Him Lord Yahweh. Regardless of what happens to his flesh and whatever trials the LORD ordains for him to endure, the psalmist resolves to draw near and find refuge in God. Indeed, how could he not trust the Almighty who graciously forgives his sin and blesses instead?

If Asaph’s heart was so turned by beholding the temple and its ordinances, how great a privilege do we now have as Christians who can look upon the Christ, of Whom the temple and sacrifices were merely shadows of His fullness! None of us are immune to the sort of discouragement and doubt that Asaph faced, and when that happens, we tend to immediately draw away from the three key spiritual disciplines of the Christian life: Scripture, prayer, and gathering for worship on the Lord’s Day. But it is precisely in those moments where it is most beneficial to spend time in the Word and prayer and to go to church, fellowshipping with brothers and sisters, sitting under the Word of God, and singing to the Lord.

While it was very likely the sacrifices in the temple that reminded Asaph of the goodness of God toward him and His judgment upon the wicked, today we have the Lord’s Supper each week before us. Although this bread and cup are not a sacrifice, they are physical signs that point our eyes back to the final sacrifice of Christ to make atonement for our sins, even though we deserved to be crushed under the judgment of God.

Thus, whenever we are tempted to doubt the goodness of God, let us look upon this Table. If we begin to think that God is using trials to judge us for our sins, let us here remember the blood of Christ which paid the entire debt of our sins, and comfort ourselves with the truth that all of our hardships in this life are the loving discipline of our Father as He makes us more like His Son. If we start to question God’s love for us, let us here look upon the broken body of our Savior and ask ourselves if “He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things” (Romans 8:32)? Indeed, by pointing us to Christ, each week this Table calls us to taste and see that the Yahweh is good.