Every night before I go to sleep, I try to read a psalm. Surprisingly, I have gained far more understanding this time around than during the few times I read them over the years. Last night just happened to be one of those times where I read Psalm 73, and the words simply would not leave me alone.

This specific passage perfectly captures the bitter frustration that almost everyone feels when looking at the systemic corruption in governments around them. I don’t think anyone can honestly deny feeling a flash of jealousy toward those who prosper through dishonesty. We see them driving luxury cars and seeming to have everything going for them without a single struggle. They appear completely free from common human burdens, using their wealth to shield themselves from life’s hardships. Yet, the Bible exposes the reality beneath the glamour, describing them as prideful, arrogant, and clothed in violence:

“From their callous hearts comes iniquity; their evil imaginations have no limits. They scoff, and speak with malice; with arrogance they threaten oppression. Their mouths lay claim to heaven, and their tongues take possession of the earth. Therefore their people turn to them and drink up waters in abundance. They say, ‘How would God know? Does the Most High know anything?’ This is what the wicked are like—always free of care, they go on amassing wealth.” (Psalm 73:7–12)

Though these words are millennia old, they became vividly real to me during a recent conversation with my flatmates about employment and salaries in Latvia. My flatmate mentioned that the highest-paid individuals there are government employees; remarkably, even government cleaners earn more than the average working citizen. How do they secure these coveted roles? Through relatives who already “lay claim” to the system.

This immediately reminded me of my African Politics course, where we analyzed the “patron-client networks” that put entire nations in jeopardy. Listening to this young man, I realized that Africa is not the only continent struggling under the weight of “callous hearts.” From Eastern Europe to Sub-Saharan Africa, the human condition remains unchanged. We see the exact same systemic reality: a global network where corrupt privilege passes seamlessly down the line through nepotism, while qualified individuals are pushed aside. What we witness in our modern capitals is the exact geopolitical manifestation of what the Psalmist wrote about thousands of years ago.

Our leaders stand in front of cameras, “speaking with malice” and lying directly to our faces. They make promises they never intend to keep and sign international treaties that will never be implemented. Because their “evil imaginations have no limits,” they hire only those related to them, leaving highly qualified citizens trapped in minimum-wage jobs far below their skill levels. Meanwhile, they treat the unemployed and the vulnerable with spite, insult, and disdain.

Witnessing this widespread injustice inevitably forces us to confront the same haunting questions the ancient writer faced: Where is God in all of this? Does He not see the pain being inflicted? “Does the Most High know anything?”

So many times, people have asked me where God is when their lives are collapsing. Blinded by tragic circumstances, they conclude that God must not care about them, and they refuse to let Him play any part in their lives. It is incredibly difficult to tell someone that God loves them without sounding hollow when their reality feels completely abandoned. How do I look at an unemployed mother of two whose house is disappearing, who faces homelessness in a few weeks because her childcare support claims were denied, and tell her everything will be alright? How do I convince her that her cries do not just echo in an empty room?

The Psalmist wrestled with the exact same wall of divine silence. The Bible is not an irrelevant, outdated text; it is an ancient mirror reflecting our modern crises. Our deepest doubts are not unique, and our thoughts echo the desperation of those who lived thousands of years ago. The Psalmist directly identifies with our daily sense of defeat, writing: “Surely in vain I have kept my heart pure and have washed my hands in innocence. All day long I have been afflicted, and every morning brings new punishments.” (Psalm 73:13–14).

How many of us have begged God for a miracle over the last few years, only to be met with silence? How many of us have pondered these exact issues without finding answers? We seem to be the ones changing, breaking, and hurting, while the corrupt world around us stays exactly the same.

But I ask you right now to stop simply nodding your head in passive agreement with these questions. If our faith stops at just asking questions, our journey through life becomes meaningless. As I read on last night, I reached a turning point where I kept telling myself: Surely, there has to be more to this than just complaining. Please let there be a resolution.

Sure enough, there was. The narrative shifts completely when the Psalmist writes: “When I tried to understand all this, it troubled me deeply till I entered the sanctuary of God; then I understood their final destiny.” (Psalm 73:16–17).

This is precisely why I chose to reread the Psalms—to understand how these ancient writers managed such raw human emotions. They did not pretend everything was fine; they brought their chaotic, confused, and bitter thoughts directly into an open conversation with God. Crucially, however, the Psalmist did not complain like someone without hope. He realized that to get real answers, he had to leave the brokenness of the world behind and go straight to the source: the Creator.

When he entered that sanctuary, his perspective shifted from temporary injustice to eternal truth. Though corrupt people in power get away with trampling others now, they cannot escape the boundaries God has set. Nothing was hidden from God in the days of Noah, Abraham, or the Psalmist. When humanity arrogantly built the Tower of Babel, God observed them and said, “If as one people speaking the same language they have begun to do this, then nothing they plan to do will be impossible for them. Come, let us go down and confuse their language…” (Genesis 11:6–7). In the exact same way, God sees every systemic injustice and every ounce of pain modern governments inflict on the vulnerable. As Solomon pointed out, there is truly nothing new under the sun.

The Psalmist’s ultimate conclusion provides a striking, sobering perspective on those who abuse power to rise: “How suddenly are they destroyed, completely swept away by terrors! They are like a dream when one awakes; when you arise, Lord, you will despise them as fantasies.” (Psalm 73:19–20).

As unfair as their current prosperity seems, this realization changes how we view them. Instead of envying them, we should feel a sense of relief that we do not share their ultimate fate. Their final destiny will not be as sweet as the temporary paradise they have built for themselves on earth. Nothing is hidden from God.

Like the Psalmist, I do not consider worldly wealth to be of ultimate importance. My prayer is simply for God to grant me enough to do the work He has called me to do here on earth. It remains a profound challenge to look someone in the eye when they are blinded by tragic circumstances and tell them that God cares. But of one thing I am absolutely certain: He keeps His promises. We cannot truly experience the comfort of that truth, or the justice of His sanctuary, until we totally surrender who we are to Him.