“Do not enter the path of the wicked, and do not walk in the way of evil” (v. 14). The father’s voice, which has thus far invited and encouraged, now hardens with urgency. Love sharpens when danger is near. Wisdom doesn’t pretend there’s only one road before us. There are always at least two, and one of them is deceptively easy. The way of evil is broad, familiar, and crowded, its surface worn smooth by countless feet (cf. Psalm 1:1; Matthew 7:13-14). Precisely because it’s familiar, it feels safe. Solomon won’t allow that illusion to stand. “Avoid it, do not travel on it; turn away from it and pass on” (v. 15). These are verbs of decisive movement. Wisdom tolerates no lingering, no flirtation with disaster, and no experimentation with debauchery. Sin doesn’t reward morbid curiosity; it feeds on it. The wise don’t negotiate with darkness; they change direction.
“For they do not sleep unless they have done evil; and their sleep is taken away unless they make someone fall” (v. 16). Here, Solomon exposes the inner logic of wickedness. What begins as choice calcifies into compulsion. Sin ceases to be an interruption of life and becomes its organizing principle. The wicked are no longer restless because they’ve sinned; they sin because they’re restless. Their consciences no longer trouble them, but their cravings do. They require others to fall in order to rest. “For they eat the bread of wickedness and drink the wine of violence” (v. 17). Evil is no longer incidental nourishment; it’s their diet. What sustains them also poisons them, but appetite has overtaken discernment.
Against this bleak portrait, Scripture sets another way: “But the path of the just is like the shining sun that shines ever brighter unto the perfect day” (v. 18). Righteousness isn’t described as a sudden blaze but as a growing light. The just don’t begin in brilliance; they begin in the early dimness of dawn. Their steps may be hesitant, their faith mixed with weakness, and their obedience imperfect, yet the direction is set. The light increases because the Lord Himself is guiding them forward. Sanctification unfolds gradually, but it unfolds truly. Each return to the Word, each confession, and each act of trust clears the air a little more. The path bends toward morning—toward the Day when shadows no longer stretch and the light no longer fades.
“The way of the wicked is like darkness; they do not know what makes them stumbles” (v. 19). This is the final tragedy of evil: It blinds those who walk in it. The wicked fall and cannot explain why. They injure others and see no connection. They lose their way and accuse everything except the darkness they chose to inhabit. Sin dulls perception before it destroys direction. But you, child of God, have been summoned into the Light, called out of obscurity and confusion into clarity and truth (1 Peter 2:9). Therefore, do not admire what God exposes. Do not envy what God names darkness. Your path is not yet noon, but it’s moving there. The Sun of Righteousness has risen (Malachi 4:2), and His Light is fixed on your way. Walk forward. When the road narrows or the shadows lengthen, remember this: Darkness is not your destination, for the Lord is your Light and your salvation. You’re already moving toward the Day.
The Lutheran Column 