Today, on this fourth Sunday of Easter, we read the passage from John’s Gospel where Jesus refers to himself as the good shepherd. It makes perfect sense that the creators of the Revised Common Lectionary would include the 23rd Psalm as today’s Psalter reading. Jesus probably had this Psalm in mind when he was speaking to the Pharisees, knowing that they would be familiar with it as well.
This Psalm, as you know, is a favorite of many believers. Often read at funerals, it provides solace for those who mourn, for those who find themselves walking through life’s darkest valleys. It is not just about death — although that word is specifically used in this Psalm, appearing almost in the middle of it. Dr. Melvin Banks reminds us that those facing “stress, strain, [and] illness…find comfort in Psalm 23” as well.[1] Poetically, it is exquisite. Filled with rich symbolism, it moves in a simple yet elegant rhythm. The King James Version, which is the version that most people who know the 23rd Psalm by heart know, is comprised of just six verses consisting of 118 words — eight words longer than the Pledge of Allegiance and our National Anthem combined.
I don’t know this for sure, but I would bet that the 23rd Psalm is not only the most often memorized of the 150 Psalms, but that it is also the most memorized passage in all of The Bible. I had to memorize it when I was in Sunday school. We actually had it as a homework assignment! How many of you had to memorize this Psalm when you were younger?
Dr. Lawrence Wilson refers to this Psalm as a prayer.[2] He’s right, if you think about it. The believer is not so much asking for anything. This isn’t a prayer of intercession. It isn’t a prayer of contrition. The speaker isn’t seeking forgiveness. Rather, it is a prayer of praise. Through it, we thank God for what he has already done for us.
Let’s breakdown this Psalm for a moment to see what we are actually thanking God for.
The Lord is the shepherd who makes us lay down in green pastures. Why green pastures? Green fields allow sheep to feed to their full. They represent an abundance of healthy food. As expressed in the opening line of the Psalm, like sheep grazing in a lush, green field, the believer also has no need of anything: because the Lord is our shepherd, we shall not want. God has provided us with everything we need.
Being led to still waters. There is that saying, “Still waters run deep.” That is not what the image the psalmist is trying to create here. Still waters represent true tranquility. If you’ve ever seen a lake first thing in the morning, it’s surface looks like glass. There is a pure placidity to it. This relates to the next phrase…
He restoreth my soul. In the busy-ness of life, when we are pulled to-and-fro by a sundry of obligations, it is easy to lose oneself. It is easy to get bogged down in the demands of work, family, and even leisure activities. It’s easy to remain busy. Being still scares many of us because it either makes us feel lazy (we should be doing something else) or the absence of noise makes us uncomfortable, because we are so used to the static. Christ restores us, however, bringing our souls back to a state similar to still waters.
God leads us in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Although we are sinners, we do not wish to be. One of the goals of the Christian life is to walk the path of righteousness. But notice something here: the psalmist is led down this path by God not for the psalmist’s own good, but for God’s name’s sake. What are we to make of that? There are many names for God — Yahweh, Elohim, Adonai, Jehovah, I Am — the list is enormous. However, God’s identity is synonymous with absolute righteousness. When we walk the path of righteousness, we honor the very name of God: we give glory to who God is and what God is.
God comforts us when with his presence, as well as his rod and staff, when we walk through the valley of the shadow of death. I always think of Daniel in the lion’s den when I read this line. There was Daniel, thrown into a lion pit by Darius. We all know what should have happened. But at daybreak Daniel was found without a scratch. Clearly, when Daniel was in the presence of death, he was surrounded by another presence, one that protected him: the presence of God.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies. Some of us do not even like to sit and eat a meal with our families. Why on earth would we want to be at a table with our enemies! The Psalmist is offering us a vision — a vision of reconciliation. The great eschatological banquet (the heavenly meal we will share at the end of time when Christ returns to make all things new) is one at which enemies and friends will finally be united in love. This is a time when everything that divides us will be stripped away and we will fully see God in one another. Prof. Wilhelm VanGemeren claims that this is a “demonstration of [God’s] love towards his own.”[3] That “own” includes us as well as our enemies. There is an old saying that your enemy’s enemy is your friend. From a Christian perspective, your enemy is God’s friend, just as you are God’s friend.
Thou anoinest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. This is the second half of what I just mentioned: table fellowship with enemies. To be anointed means to be blessed. Having one’s cup runneth over means that one has also been blessed — that you have received an abundance. Does this not relate to the opening of the Psalm: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” We shall not want, because we have received everything we could possibly ask for. Maybe this is why this is not a prayer of intercession.
A simple Psalm, indeed, but it is filled with promises and assurances like none other. In a world in which we often feel as if we are at the mercy of the fickle whim of fate, there is a word of hope. The Psalm ends with the assurance: Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. I think of that house as the one that Jesus speaks of in John 14 when he says, “In my Father’s house there are many rooms.” In some translations it reads, “In my Father’s house there are many mansions.” Either way, there is a place for each of us which does not compare to our earthly abodes.
Whether we, as vulnerable as sheep, face valleys of death or find ourselves at table with our enemies — no matter what happens, we will be comforted by our good Shepherd who will lead us to green fields besides still waters to restore our souls in their innermost depths. Therefore, my friends, we have nothing to fear. Nothing at all. The late fourteenth/early fifteenth century English mystic Julian of Norwich summed it up best when she envisioned the Lord saying to her, “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.” Maybe that is what this Psalm is all about. Amen.
[1] urbanministries.com/many-people-like-psalm-23-shepherd-psalm/
[2] drlwilson.com/Articles/23rd%20psalm.htm
[3] The Expositor’s Bible Commentary, rev. ed., vol. 5 (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2008), 255-256.