In my days as a hospice chaplain
I was routinely moved by the people that I visited. As the chaplain, of course, I would offer
prayer, song, and Scripture. No matter how debilitated and far gone those folks
were, they always remembered one prayer—the Lord’s Prayer— one song—Amazing Grace—and one Scripture—the
23rd Psalm. It isn’t often
that we get to hear the 23rd Psalm in our Sunday lectionary, as it is usually
reserved for funerals, but we are blessed by its words this week, and I suspect that it hits each of you
in a very special place, just as it did those folks I visited in my chaplaincy
days.
1 The Lord is my shepherd; *
I shall not be in want.
2
He makes me lie down in green pastures *
and leads me beside still waters.
3
He revives my soul *
and guides me along right pathways for his Name's sake.
4
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil;
*
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
5
You spread a table before me in the presence of those who trouble me; *
you have anointed my head with oil,
and my cup is running over.
6
Surely your goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, *
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for
ever.
--Psalm 23 (Book of Common Prayer Version)
To put it simply, there is power in this Psalm. It holds an important
place in the lives of Jewish and Christian folks alike, and even those who do
not care for organized religion are still often familiar with and respect the
23rd Psalm. It is believed to
have been composed around 1000 years before the time of Jesus by his ancestor, King David. David wrote it as a hymn of praise to the God of Israel, who had been his shepherd
throughout his life, guiding him in the paths he should go and sheltering and
protecting him even when he went down the wrong path or was faced with a trying
and difficult time. Certainly we have
all been in similar situations and have longed for God’s
protection and guidance, so it’s no
surprise that very early in the worship life of the Jewish people, this Psalm
was regularly sung on the sabbath and at the time of a person’s death. The
power of the Psalm, it seems, lies in its simplicity, its relatability for
nearly every single person.
We experience this in the very first simple, yet profound
profession: “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.” This has
some radical implications when we consider that we live in a culture that
teaches us to want everything, especially power,
prestige, and possessions. Everywhere we
look we are bombarded with messages that tell us what we want, and what we want, evidently, is anything and everything but God. It is particularly revolutionary for us to
proclaim that, because the Lord is our shepherd, we shall not want for anything; that is, by
making this statement we claim that God is the only real necessity of
life. The rest of the Psalm, then,
explicates this fundamental profession of our trust in God and God alone.
That trust is itself revolutionary when we consider that rulers in the
ancient world were known as the shepherds of their people. Their job was to use the power and resources
they had to protect and provide for their subjects, but they very often failed
to do so. Remember when the people of
Israel said they wanted a king? God told
them, “No! You don’t want a
king because he’ll be like
every other king!” What happened? They got Saul, and Saul decided to pay attention to his own wants and to ignore God, and look where that got him—dead. He was succeeded by David, whom we regard very highly for writing this Psalm (among others), for slaying Goliath, and for coming from such humble beginnings. Yet David
himself fell victim to his own wants of the flesh and had Uriah the Hittite
murdered so that he could be with Uriah’s wife,
resulting in a curse on David’s family. That's just in one book of the Hebrew Scriptures alone! This blog would be the length of phonebook (remember those?!) were we to try and list all of the rulers who have dropped the ball when it comes to caring for their people. Besides, we don't have to look far to find such rulers nowadays! In contrast to the failure of
earthly rulers, however, God is the one the Psalm declares to be the one who acts in the manner a shepherd and ruler should act. God will
provide for every need, and the reset of the Psalm tells us how.
Verses 2 and 3 relate how God provides all the basic necessities
of life. For sheep, green pastures mean food, and still
waters mean drink. Further, to be in right
paths for sheep means that danger is averted and proper shelter is attained,
thus, God is the shepherd who provides food, drink, and shelter, the basic
necessities of life, to all of God’s
flock. Life, our life, the life of the
sheep, depends solely on the shepherd, on God.
Verse 4 is both the structural and theological center of the
Psalm. At the moment of greatest threat,
of greatest peril and fear, God still provides, even if all God provides is God’s presence through the valley of the shadow of
death. Perhaps this is the verse that
captures so many of our hearts. For when
we lie in greatest weakness, need, and want, God’s promise to us is an abiding, everlasting presence
that tells us that we have nothing to fear, even in that valley. Just like the angels always
proclaim in Scripture, “Do not be
afraid,” this verse puts the words on the Psalmist's lips, on our lips and in our hearts to affirm that, no, we shall not
be afraid, even in the midst of such painful and fearful times because you, O
God, are with us, you comfort us with a presence that is everlasting Oh yeah, there is power in this verse alone!
Then the Psalm's tense shifts to the second person singular and addresses God directly,
reinforcing the closeness of God to each of us.
YOU are with me, says the Psalmist, an affirmation of God’s ever-abiding presence. The word we translate
often as rod more appropriately means scepter, connoting God’s royalty, God’s strength
and power, again reminding us that God is the ruler we need, that we deserve,
that we can depend on even when all the others fail. God’s provision is reliable because God is sovereign, and not even the darkest, most deadly
threat can separate us from such a mighty and loving presence.
Something interesting happens in the 5th and 6th
verses, as here the metaphor shifts from shepherd to a gracious host that invites the Psalmist to a meal and into the ever-welcoming house of the
Lord. As Jesus will reflect in his own
earthly ministry, God invites all of us into fellowship with one another around
a table. You see, when we gather around
a table, we see one another, we look into one another’s eyes and we share the provisions of the table
with one another. It’s impossible to not be in relationship with someone when you are
eating together! God invites the Psalmist,
and us, into that table fellowship—which we
experience in the Sacrament of Holy Communion—so that we
can invite others into the same fellowship, so that we can spread a table for a
brother or sister, and like the shepherd, may provide for their necessities of
food, drink, and shelter. Finally, as David
was anointed as king with oil on his head, we are anointed, both physically at our baptism and spiritually with the Holy Spirit. That anointing gives us power to know the
love of such a good shepherd, of such a mighty sovereign and gracious host. That anointing empowers us to love in such a radical fashion, and it is that anointing that follows us all the days of our lives and reserves our place in
the house of the Lord forever.
What the Kingdom looks like.
There is something so
beautiful about the childlike trust we hear in Psalm 23, a trust that Jesus
himself echoes in the Gospels when he says we must enter the kingdom as a
little child. Each time we read it or
sing it that trust is renewed. It is the trust that tells us that God will provide all of our needs,
that God will be with us in the midst of all troubles, and that the provisions of
God’s table will strengthen us to go and be shepherds ourselves, shepherds who provide
for the necessities of others, and who point the lost and lonely sheep toward
the Good Shepherd. For it is because of him that we shall never want.