It may be the most vexing question in Scripture–why do the wicked prosper? David asks it in the Psalms (Ps. 73.3), as does Habakkuk (Hak. 1.3-4), and who can forget Job’s running debate with his friends over seeming injustice? The prayer Jeremiah (ca. 650-570 BC) offers in the twelfth chapter of his prophecy is stunning for its candor, “You are always righteous, Lord, when I bring a case before you. Yet I would speak with you about your justice: Why does the way of the wicked prosper?” (Jer. 12.1). Can we really talk to God this way? Hold this question! We’ll come back to it later. People in Jeremiah’s day subscribed to the law of retribution, meaning people prospered or suffered in exact proportion to their level of obedience or wickedness. In other words, you get whatever you deserve. This is not so far-fetched from the way we see the world. We want a predictable God who rewards the righteous and punishes the wicked. Yet what happens when we fall prey to sin? If truth be told, we want mercy for us and justice for everyone else. God’s response to Jeremiah’s prayer seems callous, “If you have raced with people on foot and they have worn you out, how can you compete with horses?” (Jer. 12.5). It may be God’s way of saying, ‘You ain’t seen nothing yet. The worst is yet to come.’ While there will be hell to pay for their disobedience, God will also show them compassion (Jer. 12.5).
God never calls Jeremiah on the carpet for questioning divine justice. While God never answers Jeremiah’s query, neither does He reprimand Jeremiah’s honesty. The intimacy that Jeremiah expressed, “You know me, Lord, you see me and test my thoughts” (Jer. 12.3), reminds us to bring our true selves to God in prayer.
God gives no accounting as to why the wicked prosper. I recall something C. S. Lewis wrote in A Grief Observed after his wife’s death following three years of marriage. His initial bewilderment and rage at the seeming injustice of premature death gave way to a more reflective mood years later, “When I lay these questions before God, I get no answer. But a rather special sort of ‘No answer.’ It is not a locked door. It is more like a silent, certainly not uncompassionate, gaze. As though He shook His head not in refusal but waiving the question. Like, ‘Peace, child, you don’t understand.’ Jeremiah’s prayer instructs us to pray with more truthfulness: