"The Shepherd's Psalm"
By Dr. Mickey Anders
First Christian Church
Pikeville, Kentucy
April 25, 1999
Text: Psalm 23
There is no Psalm that has meant more to Christians through the centuries than the 23rd. The pastoral images of our Lord as the shepherd who guides, protects, and provides for his sheep, is at once engaging, encouraging and inspiring. This Psalm is a favorite at funerals and memorial services, witnessing as it does to the life-long care and eternal dwelling in the house of the Lord. Many of you, like me, first learned scripture by memorizing the 23rd Psalm. There is no doubt that it is the most beloved and most popular of all the Psalms and possibly of all scripture.
But today it seems that these pastoral images are far from the world in which we live, even in small-town America. We live in a world of chaos not pastoral fields of ease.
How can we keep our sanity when the world is turning upside down? How can we, as Rudyard Kipling put it, "keep your head when all about you is losing theirs and blaming it on you." For centuries Jews and Christians have turned to Psalm 23 for guidance and encouragement. Though it may be from another era, it still speaks truths that we need to hear.
But if we look closer we will find that the 23rd Psalm was composed by an older shepherd reflecting upon the nature of God's presence with him through the journey of life. Here we see an old shepherd, weathered face worn with the years of enduring the scorching sun of summer and the deep blasts of winter, kneeling in the temple praying and these words coming to his mouth. He had faced the wild animals and the precipitous paths along the craggy edges of mountains. He had endured the howling storms as he retrieved wandering lambs and recalcitrant sheep. In all probability he had watched as family members and friends passed from this life to the next.
Now, at the dusk of his life, he looks back and knows that the presence and protection of God were with him all those years.
We live in a world where storms blow and danger awaits around every turn. We live in a world of disease and death, of heartache and loneliness, and our only peace comes through the protective presence of our Lord Jesus Christ. We must trust deeply that our Lord is with us, even when we can neither see his work nor hear his voice. There are moments when we feel the absence of God much more than his presence. St. John of the Cross called these the "dark night of the soul," and if you have ever been through them you know this is appropriate. In these moments all that sustains us is the knowledge that our Lord is with us. We are sustained by the memory of what God has done even when we cannot see what God is doing at the present. As the line from a poem goes: "When you cannot trace his hand, trust his heart."
Like you, I've spent most of this week trying to make sense of the world. First, the war in Kosovo. Never mind the politics, there are bombs and guns and people are dying. And then, this week, we have 15 dead students in a high school in Denver.
I think that we are fascinated by this story - not so much because we want to understand it - but more in an effort to protect ourselves. We need to convince ourselves that it couldn't happen to us, to our kids. We have a close community, so it couldn't happen here.
The truth is - terrible things happen in this world. Horrible things happen - and we can't distance ourselves. Those are our children. Those are our brothers and sisters in Kosovo. This is happening to us.
So what do we do?
Well, we do all that is humanly possible to make it stop. We vote, we volunteer, we work, we pray, we do what we can. But is still hurts - that's when we really need God.
We hurt like babies hurt. You remember picking up an infant who begins to cry. First one parent picks him up, bounces him, walks him. Fifteen minutes later, he's still crying. Then the other parent takes the child and walks him and bounces him. Maybe he quits crying for a little while.
The baby doesn't even know why he's crying.. Something isn't right - but he's not even sure what. It may be too cold, too dark, too hot. Whatever it is, he can't tell you and even if he could, you can't explain to him that there's nothing to be afraid of, nothing to worry about. The heat will come. The light will change. You'll get a chance to eat. So you do the only thing that you can do, you pick him up and hold him in your arms, until he can stop crying.
Some days, we are like that baby. Some days you just want to cry. Something's wrong, but you don't know what it is. You can't describe it, it's just wrong. And if you could describe it, it probably wouldn't make a difference if God could explain it to you. Some days, we just need to be held.
In times like these, we read the 23rd Psalm. It may not explain anything to us, but in its' words we can feel God holding on to us.
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
Doesn't your breath, just ease a little when you hear those words? The Lord is my Shepherd. It's really quite a statement. The Lord is in charge. God directs me and cares for me. God looks for me when I am lost and rejoices when I am found. There is one in charge. And it is God.
"I shall not want" certainly expresses a confidence in God - to take care of the things. God will not leave me lacking.
But it also becomes a decision that I must make, a decision against greed and lust and hoarding. I shall NOT want. It isn't easy to not want, when our consumer society reminds us again and again to want, to desire, to buy, to get. But I can be free of that - The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.
"He makes me lie down in green pastures and leads me beside still waters."
The very first thing that God encourages us to do, runs contrary to almost everything else in our society. God wants us to be still. Slow down. Lie down. Listen to your own heartbeat for a while. God leads us beside still waters... sheep cannot drink from raging waters, there is no nourishment because they are afraid of the fast water. God slows things down so that we can be nourished.
"He restores my soul. He leads me in right paths for his name's sake."
I find that very comforting as well: Not only that God offers me a sense of direction, but that there is a right path. Sometimes it just seems that everything is too complicated and I can't figure out what's right and what's wrong.
In Yugoslavia - do you know for sure what's right? On one hand, I know that someone has to stand up and say "No! Genocide is wrong." But then I find myself sometimes doubting self-serving Government press releases. And killing is wrong. But how can we just let people suffer and die without doing something.
At times, it seems as though there is no right path - only hate and destruction, confusion and fear. But God has promised me that there is a right path. It might not be easy to see, but it is there - so my struggle is not in vain. Maybe I need to be still awhile and I will be able to discern the path.
Then comes, perhaps, the most famous line of the psalm - in the King James Version that most of us learned, it read:
"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me."
God knows all about our world. We all walk in the valley of the shadow of death sometimes. Sometimes it is because we have had unbearable news from the doctor - or a loved one has died and the wound just won't heal. Sometimes it is very close to home. Sometimes it is a week like this week as we look at the faces of those children and cry for them. The shadow of death feels very close to home. God knows about that valley and knows that there is no escaping it - no matter how centered we are, how faithful we are, how clever we are - we can still be afraid, we still hurt. We can still feel utterly alone. But we are not alone: God is with us. In that valley the psalmist says, "I will fear no evil, for you are with me!"
But more than the assurance that we are not alone, God also promises to help us get out of the valley. God offers us a table - food for our souls. God offers us oil - a balm for our wounded spirit. God offer us a cup - drink and refreshment for our lives.
"You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows."
God will feed us - heal us - and refresh us. And so we will find ourselves on the other side of that valley. But even in the comfort, I detect the hint of a challenge. "You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies."
Perhaps that is how God leads us out of the valley - by bringing us
to terms with our enemies.
Do we include Milosovic in our prayers?
Do we pray for the Trenchcoat Mafia?
Do we pray for those with whom we disagree - or for those we do not
understand? Perhaps that is the best way out of the valley of the
shadow of death.
Finally, the psalm concludes with an affirmation - a celebration.
"Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD my whole life long."
Goodness and mercy shall follow me is another way of saying that we shall have the company of God - no matter where we go! No matter where life takes us, far away, near by - ecstatic celebrations or trying times that twist and tear at our hearts. God will be there. If we don't see God right away - we need only wait, because goodness and mercy follows us, all the days of our lives.
But even as I journey, I will have a sense of always being at home in God's presence: I will dwell in the house of the Lord, forever.
In the face of the tragedies that we have all witnessed and experienced - this week, this month, this year, last year - whenever - God speaks to us in the psalm. Not giving easy answers, that allow us to forget what goes on in the world - but words that assure us that God is with us, especially when we hurt. Like a mother hushing her child, God promises us that everything is going to be all right. I know that it may not make for any easy answers - but knowing that God knows and that God will stay with me even as God leads me out of the valley is good enough for me.
Listen once again to the ancient words that still speak today.