Commentary - Psalm 73:21-26

Bird's-eye view

Psalm 73 is a spiritual memoir of a man who almost lost his footing. Asaph, the psalmist, begins by stating the bedrock conclusion that God is good to Israel (v. 1), but then immediately confesses that his own feet had almost slipped (v. 2). Why? Because he was consumed with envy at the prosperity of the wicked. They were arrogant, healthy, and wealthy, and seemed to get away with it all, which tempted Asaph to think that his own pursuit of a clean heart was all for nothing (vv. 3-14). The turning point, the hinge of the entire psalm, comes when he goes into the sanctuary of God (v. 17). It is there, in worship, that he gains an eternal perspective. He sees their end, a slippery slope to sudden destruction.

The verses we are considering here (vv. 21-26) are Asaph's reflection after this revelation. He looks back at his previous state of mind with shame and repentance, recognizing his brutish ignorance. But this repentance is immediately followed by a glorious declaration of faith. Despite his folly, God never let him go. This section is a magnificent crescendo of restored fellowship, moving from brutishness before God to having nothing but God. It is a journey from the precipice of apostasy to the pinnacle of worship, where the soul declares that God is its only desire and everlasting portion.

Outline

Context In Psalms

Psalm 73 is the first psalm in Book Three of the Psalter (Psalms 73-89). This section of the psalms is generally darker in tone than the first two books, dealing heavily with themes of God's seeming absence, the suffering of the righteous, and the destruction of the kingdom. It is therefore fitting that this book opens with a psalm that tackles one of the most persistent problems for the believer: the apparent injustice of a world where the wicked flourish and the righteous suffer. Asaph's raw honesty provides a canonical template for God's people to wrestle with these hard realities. He gives voice to the temptations that plague us all, but he does not leave us there. He shows us the path out, which is not through intellectual problem-solving alone, but through worshipful encounter with the living God.

Verse by Verse Commentary

v. 21 When my heart was embittered And I was pierced within,

Asaph begins his post-sanctuary reflection by diagnosing his spiritual sickness. The word for embittered here has the sense of leaven, of something souring and fermenting within. This was not a superficial complaint; it was a deep, soul-level bitterness. He was "pierced within," or as some translations have it, "pricked in my reins." The reins, for the Hebrews, were the seat of the deepest emotions and affections, the kidneys. He is saying that his envy and confusion were a visceral, gut-level agony. This is what happens when a man takes his eyes off God's promises and fixes them on the apparent prosperity of the ungodly. Bitterness is a spiritual acid that eats away at the soul from the inside out. It is a poison we drink, hoping the other person will die.

v. 22 Then I was senseless and ignorant; I was like an animal before You.

The conclusion he draws from his internal state is devastatingly honest. He says he was "senseless and ignorant." The Hebrew word for senseless here is related to the word for beast or cattle, which he makes explicit in the next clause. "I was like an animal before You." Or, more literally, "A behemoth I was with you." He is not just saying he acted beastly; he is saying that in his heart-reasoning, he had become a beast. An animal chews its cud, looking only at the grass in front of it. It has no thought for the future, no understanding of the butcher, no concept of eternity. This was Asaph. He saw the green grass of the wicked and started chewing the cud of envy, completely oblivious to the eternal realities God was about to show him in the sanctuary. This is a crucial confession. Until we see our sin for the brutish, irrational thing it is, we are not yet on the road to recovery.

v. 23 Nevertheless I am continually with You; You have taken hold of my right hand.

Here the psalm makes a turn that should take our breath away. After confessing his beastly ignorance, the very next word is "Nevertheless." This is pure grace. While he was being a behemoth, God was being God. "I am continually with You." Notice the present tense. Even in his embittered state, God had not abandoned him. And not only was God present, He was active. "You have taken hold of my right hand." This is the grip of a father holding his toddler near the edge of a cliff. The child, in his ignorance, might be reaching for a pretty flower at the precipice, but the father's grip is what saves him. Asaph's feet almost slipped, but they did not slip. Why? Not because of Asaph's wisdom or strength, but because of God's sovereign, electing, preserving grip. He holds us fast, even when our own hold is failing.

v. 24 With Your counsel You will lead me, And afterward take me in glory.

Because God is holding him, Asaph now has a renewed confidence in his future. This confidence has two parts. First, for this life: "With Your counsel You will lead me." The same man who was just recently giving himself terrible counsel, the counsel of envy, now submits himself to the good counsel of God. This refers to the guidance of God's Word and His Spirit throughout the believer's pilgrimage. Life is no longer a meaningless maze, but a guided tour. Second, for the life to come: "And afterward take me in glory." This is a magnificent statement of faith in the resurrection and the eternal state. After the guided tour is over, the guide takes you home. The word "take" is the same word used of Enoch's translation (Gen 5:24). Asaph sees that the end game is not the grave, but glory. The wicked have their portion in this life, but the righteous will be received into glory itself.

v. 25 Whom have I in heaven but You? And besides You, I desire nothing on earth.

This verse is the summit of the psalm, and one of the highest peaks in all of Scripture. Having been brought back from the brink, Asaph's heart overflows. His perspective has been so radically reoriented that God is now his exclusive treasure. He looks up to heaven, and sees that nothing there compares to God. Angels, golden streets, pearly gates, all of it is rubbish compared to having God Himself. Then he looks around at the earth, the very place that had so recently tempted him with its trinkets, and he declares, "I desire nothing on earth." This is not to say that believers cannot enjoy earthly things. It is to say that nothing on earth can be the object of our ultimate desire. The desire for God has become an all-consuming fire that burns away all lesser rivals. The man who began the psalm envying the wicked their stuff now wants nothing but God.

v. 26 My flesh and my heart fail, But God is the rock of my heart and my portion forever.

Asaph concludes with a statement of glorious, rugged realism. He knows his own limitations. "My flesh and my heart fail." The physical body will decay and die. The inner man, the heart, is prone to wander and grow faint. Our resources will run out. Our strength will give way. This is the reality for every son of Adam. But this is not a cry of despair, because he immediately sets a great truth against this great reality. "But God..." These are two of the greatest words in the Bible. "But God is the rock of my heart and my portion forever." When his heart fails, God is the strength of his heart. The Hebrew is "rock" of my heart, implying stability, a fortress, a sure foundation. And God is his "portion forever." A portion is an inheritance. The wicked had their portion in this life, their fleeting prosperity. But Asaph's inheritance, his portion, is God Himself. And this inheritance is not for a weekend or a lifetime, but forever. It is an eternal inheritance, an infinite God for his everlasting enjoyment.

Application

This passage is a profound encouragement for every believer who has ever wrestled with doubt or been tempted by envy. Asaph's journey is our journey. First, we must learn to be honest about our sin. When we envy the wicked, we are not just having a bad day; we are being brutish and ignorant, acting like cattle who can't see past the next patch of grass. We must confess this folly for what it is.

Second, we must fly to the central truth of the gospel: "Nevertheless." Our standing with God does not depend on the firmness of our grip, but on the firmness of His. He holds our right hand. He keeps us when we cannot keep ourselves. Our assurance is not found in the quality of our faith, but in the quality of its object, Jesus Christ.

Finally, this passage calls us to recalibrate our desires in the sanctuary of worship. It is in the presence of God, with the people of God, under the Word of God, that our perspective is corrected. When we see God for who He is, we see everything else in its proper light. The fleeting treasures of earth grow strangely dim. We come to realize that to have God is to have everything. He is our strength when we are weak, our guide through this life, our glorious home in the next, and our everlasting portion. Whom have we in heaven but Him?