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Resources IndexAsk any man or woman on the street what is his or her favorite Psalm, and I would guess that 98 out of a 100 would say the 23rd Psalm. Even the Bible scholar who knows well all the Psalms and may have favorites spread throughout the Psaltery, even this sophistication will not turn him away from this most comforting, this most beloved of all Psalms.
Perhaps I had thought it was too well known to preach about it, and yet I suspect there are many people who know it well, but who have never probed its depths to increase their comfort in reading it. None of the Psalms expresses more eloquently or with such warmth the great news that God cares for us, for you, in a very special way.
I need not get into the age-old argument as to which version of the Bible presents the most effective or the most accurate translation of the 23rd Psalm. At the end of this sermon, I'm going to ask you to read the Psalm with me. While I agree that modern translations of the Bible-The Good News Bible, The Living Bible, The Good News for Modern Man Testament, The New English Bible-have made great contributions in putting the scriptures into today's language and today's meaning; nevertheless, the 23rd Psalm loses its consummate beauty when one tampers with those magnificent phrases of the King James version. But that, too, needs interpreting to know what is being said. The Psalmist wrote for a culture far different from ours, so its meaning obviously needs clarification for our time.
When one begins by saying, "The Lord is my shepherd," there are people today who might well ask, "What's a shepherd?" To many youngsters, a shepherd is found only in picture books. And today's sheepherders of the western plains ride either jeeps or horses and smoke Marlboro cigarettes and have neat little tattoos on their wrists. There's little or no resemblance to the shepherds of the Bible lands with their flowing robes and their shepherd's crooks.
But the shepherd, then and now, is the figure of caring; he cares for his flock with a constancy known to few other professions. The Psalmist must have found it quite natural to compare the shepherd's devotion to his flock with God's caring for His people. In that ancient culture in which everyone either was a shepherd or knew shepherds, what more obvious metaphor for God than the shepherd? "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want."
Perhaps the Psalmist was inspired by that venerable ancient prophet, Ezekiel, who in the early years of the Chaldean exile had given the finest portrait of the Lord as shepherd to be found in the Old Testament.
During that awesome exile of a whole people, they desperately needed the gathering-care and the healing-skill of a shepherd. Through the words of Ezekiel, the Lord had offered himself to the exiles as a shepherd in the richest of thought. In that 34th chapter of Ezekiel we read: "I myself will be the shepherd of my sheep, and I will cause them to lie down, saith the Lord God. I will seek that which was lost, and will bring back that which was driven away, and will bind up that which was broken, and will strengthen that which was sick,"-all the duties of a shepherd.
How would the Psalmist have said it today? He may not have used the shepherd metaphor, but what would take its place?
The Lord is my nurse? Nurses are certainly in today's context of caring. But if they can strike for higher wages and better working conditions, perhaps they aren't the best example. And I am not necessarily critical of nurses who strike-they know their working conditions far better than I do.
The Lord is my doctor? Doctors certainly are caring figures. But I don't blame them for becoming a bit jaundiced in their caring, since they can barely afford the exorbitant rates of malpractice insurance. No, there must be a better metaphor for today's Psalmist.
The Lord is my lawyer? While lawyers perform great services, they are not commonly thought of as sacrificial, caring individuals, and they come off badly in the New Testament.
The Lord is my minister? Ah, could that be close? Ministers are thought to be in the profession of caring, but they are perhaps too much involved in administrative duties, program planning, liturgical development, the directing of communications. The tending of their flock is their first concern, and yet many fall short of that ideal. Those television preacher scandals would seem to bear that out. So that won't do either.
How about this? The Lord is my volunteer? Voluntarism is the greatest commodity this nation produces. There isn't the calculator that can count the hours spent by people giving their time to the Church, to the Red Cross, the Salvation Army, Planned Parenthood, hospital volunteer services, benefit programs of all kinds and shapes and sizes; the list is endless. There isn't enough in the treasuries of the world that could pay the going hourly rate for all the time that is given freely in some good cause. That is indeed a magnificent kind of caring. Our society couldn't exist without it. There is no way all the volunteer hours, days and weeks given to this Church could be paid for in cash.
While all of that volunteering helps others, not all of us are its beneficiaries; whereas, our spiritual selves are indeed the beneficiaries of God's caring if we embrace that idea wholeheartedly.
The Psalmist speaks directly to me personally. Ezekiel spoke of God as the shepherd of all of Israel as a nation of people. But the Psalmist spoke of God as my shepherd, as your shepherd. God is not a volunteer with other means of support. God's giving is His living-far beyond voluntarism.
So there may be no metaphor to take the place of "shepherd."
Would the great message of comfort in that Psalm have meaning today if it were written without any pastoral references to shepherds, to green pastures, to rods and staffs...or staves, if that's the more correct plural?
I think it can, but we must never think of such paraphrasings as replacement, for nothing can replace the singular glory of that Psalm just as it appears in the Bible. But a paraphrasing is interesting as a means of relating the Psalm's message to our own day. As an example, I have written a paraphrasing for today;
The Lord cares for me. I have everything I need. He lets me rest in warm places with cool water close by. He renews life within me and restores my inner spirit. He leads me back into his loving arms as he has promised he would. Even though I might walk through the darkness of total despair, I am unafraid for he is beside me. I am comforted that he keeps me in his protection. You support me in every way, even when I am surrounded by those who would harm me. You make me your most welcome guest, fulfilling me to overflowing. I feel certain that all this love and caring will be mine from now until I die. I feel that I am the Lord's houseguest forever.
To sheep, nothing could be more comforting than to be grazing in green pastures beside still waters. (Incidentally, I learned fairly recently the answer to the question, "Why does the shepherd lead his sheep to still waters?" It is because sheep, for reasons I cannot fathom, cannot drink from a flowing stream, from moving waters. The water must be still for a sheep to be able to drink. Did you know that? I didn't. You'd think that after all my years of Bible study, I would have discovered that long ago, but it is a most recent addition to my knowledge. You see, you're never too old to learn.)
But we are not sheep, so our comfort can be found in "warm places" with "cool water" nearby. What a heavenly thought that is, whether it be in some summer meadow beside a cool stream or on the sun deck of a summer cottage with a cool drink alongside, or up at Cedar Lake, sitting quietly on that rock we call Windswept with its inspiring, panoramic view. Even in an urban setting, overlooking a mere window flower box across a dingy courtyard can have its inspiration for one who earnestly feels he is one of God's sheep.
If one has a sense of God's leading him to such satisfaction, even providing it for him, he finds a rare kind of serenity. It comes not from a sense of achievement or the gratification of power that one gets from doing all the right things to become successful in the eyes of society; it comes from the realization that God is indeed your protector, your comfort and your guide. A scene of natural beauty can inspire that feeling.
In this paraphrasing, instead of "leading me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake," he leads me back into his loving arms as he has promised he would. What does it mean to be in "paths of righteousness?" Biblically, "righteousness" does not mean performing all the right acts, always being correct in the eyes of God in everything you do. None of us can perform that well. It means to be in a right relationship with God; to know yourself to be one of His family regardless of your shortcomings; and to be eternally grateful for that family membership. This is where God leads us if we will but follow. That is the path of righteousness.
The phrase "for his name's sake" I have translated to "as he promised he would." You see, the name of God is to be honored because He made a covenant with His people; He promised He would love them, care for them, and forgive them in their true repentance. He will not sully His name by reneging on that promise. For the sake of keeping His name honorable, He will keep leading us into this right relationship with Him if we will but follow. For me the phrase "as he has promised" says that. He will not go back on that promise. He will not sully the honor of His name. He will do it for His name's sake.
What about "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me"? You and I walk through many valleys of little deaths before we are called upon to face that final shadowy valley, before literally dying to live in that next life. I want some comfort in knowing that God is with me in those little deaths of discouragement and despair in this life that we all face occasionally, that don't seem so "little" at the time. And when we walk through those dark periods, the despair can indeed seem to be "total." It can be as near to real death as any of us could experience. I think of the agony of those victims trapped in the rubble of the Philippine hotel brought down by that awesome earthquake. I can well imagine them reciting the Lord's Prayer and the 23rd Psalm as they prayed for their lives. The great thoughts expressed in the Psalm can indeed be a rod and a staff of comfort in such a trial, or at least help lessen the terror.
If you have read Gore Vidal's Lincoln, you know it highlights the issue of slavery, as do most books on the Civil War period. I think it was the amazing forbearance of the slaves that eventually won the day for them. It must have taken great faith to withstand their degradation. I would guess the 23rd Psalm provided great strength for them. They survived their darkness of total despair with a sense that God was beside them as they walked through the valley of the shadow. But the 23rd Psalm is not just a comfort station we enter only in times of crises. It is a constant spiritual strength that can undergird us any time we want to absorb its rich assurance.
Then comes the metaphor of the table "spread in the presence of mine enemies." And the grammar goes from the third person to second person. God becomes not "He," but "You," "Thou."
The Lord is the Psalmist's host, and he is a guest in God's house. The Psalmist is hard pressed by enemies, but the Lord has permitted him to triumph over them. Before their very eyes, God lays out a meal on the table made ready for him! While the enemies look on, frustrated and defeated in their evil purpose, the Psalmist experiences protection, refreshment, and honor at the gracious hand of his God, who honors him by anointing his head with oil as he sits at the well-filled table, and hands him a cup full to the brim, and abundance in reserve.
It is here in this verse that the deeper meaning for the Psalmist's life clearly shines through. The Psalmist is in the Temple, God's "House." The reference is to the joyous festive meal of the thank offering, in which the Psalmist, restored to health from severe illness and saved from the onslaught of enemies, pays his thanks, feasts in unmingled joy, and bears his testimony of gratitude to his Host for what He has done for him.
When we serve the Lord's supper here, we are the Lord's guests in this sanctuary, and the table of God's love is spread before us. Such a feast of life the Lord has given us, enough to confound all our skeptical and cynical enemies. We do indeed feel that we are His lifelong guests in His house forever. The Lord's loving care is ours until we die. It was only left for Christ to come on the scene to give us even greater good news that not only could life be mightily fulfilling for those who love the Lord, because He first and always loves us to overflowing, but that that love does not cease with death. Death is the mere transition to more life, more abundance of love, in other form.
And so this best-loved Psalm is a great story of faith. It is our personal thanksgiving for God's personal love.
And now will you please join me in reading the Great Psalm together:
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want; He maketh me to lie down in greenpastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; they rod and they staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
Dr. Donald B. Ward
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