Psalm 23 Scripture Lesson: Psalm 23 The Rev. Dr. William E. W. Robinson Salem Presbyterian Church The Fourth Sunday of Easter May 7, 2017 Psalm 23 is one of the best-known and best-loved passages in the entire Bible. Since it was penned over three thousand years ago, it s provided countless people with such comfort and assurance of God s presence and provision and love, particularly at times of death and loss. (In fact, in my experience, it s rare when it s not read at a funeral.) One commentator called Psalm 23 a journey : you move from green pastures to still waters to the valley of the shadow of death and finally to dwelling in the house of the Lord forever. In this sermon, we ll journey through the psalm together, exploring its meaning and power through certain verses. The Lord is my shepherd. What a simple, yet expressive, metaphor. It evokes the many associations that we have of sheepherders and flocks and sheep from the nursery rhyme Little Bo Peep to William Blake s poem The Lamb to counting sheep at night. When we hear it, in our mind s eye we see God tending, leading, guiding, protecting, providing for, caring for. The metaphor has echoes in Old Testament story, song, and prophecy. For instance, the prophet Micah exhorts the Lord: Shepherd your people with your staff, the flock that belongs to you let them feed in Bashan and Gilead, as in days of old. And Psalm 100 sings: Know that the Lord is God. It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.
While the metaphor is well established in the Bible, its use with the first-person singular is unique. Everywhere else in Scripture, God is Israel s shepherd, the shepherd of all of his people. Here and only here God is the shepherd of one person. God tends, leads, guides, protects, provides for, cares for me. It s personal; it s intimate. He s my shepherd. For us, it s even more so because when we say The Lord is my shepherd we think of the Good Shepherd, Jesus. By calling himself that in John 10, Jesus puts a face on the Lord in this psalm. It becomes that much more personal and intimate because the One who calls each of us friend tends, leads, guides, protects, provides for, cares for each of us. Because the Lord is my shepherd and not just anyone I shall not want. Other Bibles translate that second line: I lack nothing, I have all that I need, I will never be in need, and I don t need a thing. It s a statement of radical and ultimate trust in God s provision. It boldly declares: I know that you, Lord, will supply what I need, not what I want but what I truly need. The rest of the psalm is a poetic and picturesque extension of the shepherd metaphor. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters (or waters of rest). When you hear the psalm, though, you may not picture yourself as a sheep. After all, sheep aren t the smartest of animals, and they re completely and utterly dependent on shepherds. Indeed, the entire psalm assumes our helplessness and dependence on God. And that s not how we re used to thinking of ourselves. Our culture prizes independence, standing on our own two feet, self-reliance, pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps. As a result, we re reluctant to ask for help, to appear that we even!2
!3 need it. We usually only ask for it when things are really bad, when we re at the very end of our rope. I had conversations this past week with people in need (people at the end of their rope). They d been in need for some time, and they knew it. They d tried their best to manage by themselves, to not ask anyone for help. I thank God that they did. And what I said to them is this: It takes prayer and courage to ask for help, and it takes prayer and courage to let people help you. It s hard for the Good Shepherd to restore your soul, to restore your life if you re not totally and utterly dependent on him, if you don t allow him to supply your need, if you don t let him lead you on right paths for his name s sake. Maybe some you here today need to hear this psalm s reminder that we should rely fully on God, trusting in him to provide. And he will even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death. Did you know that there s a place in Israel that locals called the valley of the shadow of death? It s a 4 1/2-mile-long canyon; its steep walls are over 1,500 feet high in places; and it s only ten to twelve feet wide at the bottom. It s a narrow, desolate, and dangerous place: the canyon floor is badly eroded by cloudbursts with seven-to-eight-foot gullies in places. Due to climate and grazing conditions, shepherds led their flocks through this narrow defile for seasonal feeding each year. They would use their rods to repel predators such as wild dogs and their staffs or crooks to rescue a sheep and lift it to safety. So, a sheep learned to fear no evil even in the valley of the shadow of death for the shepherd was with her; his rod and his staff, they comforted her.
When have you felt the Lord s presence and comfort in the valley of the shadow of death, at a dark, desolate, or dangerous time in your own life (when the walls of life seemed to be closing in on you)? I experienced it last year when my mom and dad were in the valley of the shadow of death. It was a living hell, but two days before my dad died, I had this good, lucid conversation with him. He talked some, understood, laughed. It was our last conversation, but I thank God for it. It comforts me to this day. This verse reminds us that we all walk through this valley at some point (or at times). You can t avoid it just because the Lord is your shepherd. Yet, we sometimes still get angry at God when we do. We act as if we shouldn t have to walk through it. But until Christ comes to right what s wrong with this world, we will. This verse doesn t promise deliverance from this valley; it promises that we never walk it alone because he is with us. At a presbytery meeting on Thursday, we heard Jordan Hertz s faith journey. She s a student at Union Presbyterian Seminary in Richmond and a candidate for ministry. Her journey is poignant and inspiring, and it exemplifies the trust in God expressed in this psalm. Listen to this story in particular: My husband was diagnosed with three large cancerous tumors. He ended up having surgery, radiation, and chemo, much of which he had to do away from us in Winston-Salem because his cancer was so rare. For months, he only came home on weekends. It could ve been terrible, but it wasn t. I was so filled with the love and generosity of all the people in my life. I didn t cook a meal for four months because food arrived at my house nightly. Other parents ferried my children to this and that. Neighbors surprised us by decorating the outside of our house for Christmas. Friends mowed and trimmed my yard. And people I knew and people I didn t prayed and prayed and prayed for my family.!4
Then Jordan adds: I have always felt that if I closed my eyes and reached out my hand [that] God would always be there to take it. And for certain he always has. But that experience made me feel that when I reached out my hand, instead of taking it within his own hand, God was placing my hand in the hand of one person after another person after another person. And he was saying to me as he did it: Here I am; here I am; here I am. I love that image of God placing our hand in the hand of one person after another person after another person. So many times that s how we know that God is with us in the valley of the shadow of death: people incarnate his presence and provision and love. At such times, it s as if he s saying to each of us: Here I am; here I am; here I am. May each of us experience that in the valley of the shadow of death and forever. Alleluia! The Good Shepherd is alive and with us always. Amen.!5