Psalm 23; 1st John 3.16-24; John 10.11-18
The place that Psalm 23 holds on faith and spirituality is deep and lively. The closest we might get to sheep is the animal barn at the Red River Valley Fair, but it doesn’t matter. The images of Psalm 23 tell us the truth about God, about the world, and about our life in God. This psalm offers straightforward and enduring trust in God’s care for us, presence with us, and protection of us throughout life. In contentment and joy—green pastures, still waters, and soul restored—we are reminded that the good things in life are a gift from the Lord. In times of distress—death, sorrow, enemies—the psalm offers confidence that the Lord will lead us through the darkness; hard times won’t last forever. For these, and probably more reasons that we have time to name, the 23rd Psalm speaks to our life and our soul.
Writer Kathleen Norris, in an introduction to a book on the psalms, tells about attending a graveside service at a cemetery on the edge of the Black Hills. She was there to bury a friend who had died of cancer. George was in his 30s, a military vet, a mountain man, and rarely went to church. The group of mourners at the graveside service was diverse. Norris describes artists, long-haired bearded men wearing buckskin, and aging hippies wearing sandals and their best blue jean suits. Gathered around that grave there were Democrats and Republicans, Protestants and Roman Catholics, atheists and agnostics. Near the end of the service, a minister handed out copies of the 23rd Psalm and asked everyone to read from the sheet. They ignored him. But not because they weren’t interested or because skeptics refused on principle. It was because no one needed a printed text. Instead, this eclectic group recited the psalm together from memory in the 400-year-old language of the King James Version of the Bible. “He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul.” Would that happen with any other passage of the Bible? Hard to imagine. Psalm 23 speaks with depth to a wide range of people and circumstances.
The 23rd Psalm praises a Lord we can depend on, just as sheep depend on the care of a shepherd. “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.” This is the heart of the psalm. “You are with me” is quite literally the middle of the psalm. But most of all, it is the center where the shepherd’s care flows from and returns. “You are with me.” God is with us at all times and through all things: times of refreshment and rest when we get our life back; heartaches and difficulties along the way, too.
And notice how the psalm doesn’t say, “I fear no evil” as though evil is an illusion. The psalm is not saying, ‘Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, it’s all good.’ No, Psalm 23 is more honest than this. It knows there is darkness in the world, that the darkness is not good, and that we will find ourselves facing it. Here there is no promise that believers will be exempt from trouble, hurt, and disappointment; no guarantee we can avoid suffering like we can avoid backed-up traffic by taking an alternate route. Our route will take us directly through darkness, through “the valley of the shadow of death.” We will feel the sting of death, grieve over suffering and tragedy, try to make our way through circumstances we would never have chosen for ourselves, would never have wanted or asked for. God may not eliminate evil or make problems disappear. But we have the assurance we can make our way through the dark times. When we say, ‘I have no idea how my life ended up here and I’m not sure what’s next,’ the Lord our Shepherd is alongside us, leading us, making sure us that nothing will separate us from God’s own love.
We see that in the image of the rod and staff. The shepherd’s rod was used to keep wolves and other threats away from the flock; it’s an image of protection. The shepherd’s staff was used to reach down and pick up sheep that had fallen into pits, to bring back strays and keep them close; an image of care.
Anne Lamott, in her book Traveling Mercies, writes about she was supported by that care in her own dark valleys, the unexpected paths, and even threats in her life: her parents’ poor marriage; their alcoholism when she was a child; her own drinking at a young age. One place Lamott found protection and care when life was chaotic and out of control was at the house of her friend Shelly. Shelly’s mom was a Christian and her faith was a shelter. That house was a home where Lamott could find safety and get her life back, restore her soul. When Anne would come over, looking to get away and find a quiet place to sleep, Shelly’s mom would sit beside her and recite the 23rd Psalm. “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me. Your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” Lamott’s circumstances hadn’t changed. But she knew she wouldn’t face her fears and trials alone. She was protected and cared for, even if only for a little while. God may not eliminate evil or make problems disappear. But we have the assurance we can make our way through the dark times because the Lord our Shepherd is alongside, leading us, with us. Even when the world is not dependable, God is. When things around us are falling apart, we can know the shepherd’s protective care.
In today’s gospel Jesus says he is our Good Shepherd. He knows that his sheep—his people, we who belong to him—will face danger. And he will be with us in and through it all. Jesus contrasts this assurance with the hired hand who is not a real shepherd. The way Jesus describes it, the sheep mean nothing to the hired hand. The hired hand is only in it for the money. He sees a wolf come and immediately runs away. But Jesus our Good Shepherd will not abandon us or leave us to face our threats alone. The threats of sin, suffering, and death, he will face for us. He knows us and is committed to our well-being and delivery, our salvation. His rod and staff, his protection and care, are fashioned into the beams of the cross. “I am the Good Shepherd. I lay down my life for the sheep.”
Actually, ‘good’ doesn’t quite capture the full meaning and many layers of what Jesus is saying. The biblical word translated here as ‘good’ also means ‘beautiful.’ Jesus is the Beautiful Shepherd. This is good and beautiful in the way that Jesus’ compelling life attracted followers throughout his ministry and how people, filled with the Spirit and in response to his love, loved others as he loved us.
One of the reasons Christianity spread quickly in the ancient Roman world was that nobody looked after the sick and friendless the way Christians did. Disease or epidemic would hit a city and the healthy would flee for safety. “The hired hand sees the wolf coming…and runs away.” But Christians, filled with the self-giving love of Jesus the Good and Beautiful Shepherd, would rush in to care for the people in need. “We know love by this,” today’s reading from 1st John says, “that Jesus laid down his life for us—and we ought to lay down our lives for one another.” Here is Anne Lamott’s friend’s mother doing something as simple as reciting a psalm to keep away the chaos and provide respite and refuge. Here is a diverse group of people supporting one another in their grief praying Psalm 23 at the graveside of a friend.
This is where the shepherd of Psalm 23, Jesus our Good and Beautiful Shepherd, leads us, too. The church has long seen the images in Psalm 23 as God’s gift for your life, especially in Holy Baptism and the Holy Eucharist. In Baptism, you are led by God’s own waters and anointed with oil. In the bread and wine of the Eucharist, there is a cup overflowing with the Lord’s goodness and mercy, a place of refuge and respite for you, a banquet of reconciliation, and a hint of an unending feast yet to come. In times of contentment and joy, Psalm 23 reminds us that the good things spread before us are a gift from the Lord. And when you travel through dark times—as you will—you are not alone. Because of the rod and staff of Jesus’ cross, nothing can steal the love of God from you. We are blessed with God’s presence and lovingkindness not first because of who we are but first because of who God is. The Good and Beautiful Shepherd lays down his life for you and takes it up again in his resurrection so that you might live in the presence of God all the days of your life.
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