Psalm 23rd
This week our suspense ended. Well that is if you are a royal family fan. Harry and Meagan, the Duke and Duchess of Sussex, became parents for the very first time. Their baby boy is now the seventh in line for the British crown. Ever since the fairytale wedding last May in Windsor Castle we hoped this day would come. Every mother knows the anticipation, suspense and excitement of the day you give birth and suddenly become a mother! How your life changes in a moment once you give birth to this tiny child. Sometimes it is hard to believe how much love you can have for this precious bundle of joy.
Our gospel lesson today is about suspense and belief. Jesus was asked, “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Christ, tell us plainly.” Jesus answered, “I told you, and you chose not to believe.” These Jews may have believed Jesus healed people, was a great teacher, or maybe even a prophet, but they did not, or could not, believe that Jesus was the Christ, the Anointed One.
Tug McGraw played for the Mets during the 1973 season, when the team was slumping in epic proportion. As he walked onto the field one day, an autograph seeker called out, “What’s wrong with the Mets?” McGraw turned and said, “There’s nothing wrong with the Mets—you gotta believe!” The report quickly became the rallying cry for the team and was eagerly embraced by fans and press. Another way of looking at this is to say the power of one’s beliefs is equal to faith.
Throughout history, some people chose to believe Jesus is the Messiah, while others did not. Jesus explains this with a simple yet powerful image of a shepherd. Jesus said, “You do not believe because you do not belong to my sheep. My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me, and I give them eternal life” (vs. 26). The image of a shepherd is very common in Scripture because everyone could relate to it. Sheep were the most important domestic animals in Palestine used for meat, milk, fat, wool, and sacrificial animal. Shepherding was integrated into the fabric of society. The pastoral paradigm speaks to the loving care of the shepherd for his flock. The shepherd would tend to the sheep’s every need, search out the lost sheep, and even defend the flock with his life. The sheep were dependent on the shepherd for their food, water and safety and it is no wonder that they would know the voice of the shepherd.
The comfort of a familiar voice is powerful. Hearing your dear friend pick up the phone and say hello, hearing the voice of a trusted news anchor who has walked with you through the events of history, hearing your mother’s voice after a difficult time. Hearing a voice that has helped you through your life, and guided you on your way, is one of those treasures we are not even aware of until we no longer have them.
During a family vacation my cousin once gave me a tape of my mother interviewing my grandmother. In addition to all the gems of family history like my grandmother knitting socks for the Red Cross during WWI, and how my grandparents met in Kindergarten, I was touched by the comforting sound of their voices. Voices I have not heard in many years because they had already gone to be with God. These two women, my mother and grandmother, taught me about faith, showed me love and patience and shaped the person I would become. Hearing their voices again, after years of silence, reconnected me to the love, support and care I experienced as they shepherded me through my growing years.
Jesus is the Good Shepherd whose voice we hear and follow. We are connected to Jesus through our faith, and our prayers give voice to our relationship. We trust that Jesus, our shepherd, will lead us in the right direction. We depend on Jesus to care for us like a shepherd tends to his flock. The ultimate shepherd imagery comes to us from the 23rd Psalm that Sandy read this morning.
Rabbi Harold Kushner, the author of When Bad Things Happen to Good People has written a book about the 23rd Psalm. In it he states, “In a mere fifty-seven words of Hebrew and just about twice that number in English, the author of the 23rd Psalm gives us an entire theology, a more practical theology than we can find in many books. He teaches us to look at the world and see it as God would have us see it. If we are anxious, the psalm gives us courage and we overcome our fears. If we are grieving, it offers us comfort and we find our way through the valley of the shadow. If our lives are embittered by unpleasant people, it teaches us how to deal with them. If the world threatens to wear us down, the psalm guides us to replenish our souls. If we are obsessed with what we lack, it teaches us gratitude for what we have. And most of all, if we feel alone and adrift in a friendless world, it offers us the priceless reassurance that “Thou art with me” (pg 9).”
I must admit, I associated the 23rd Psalm with grieving and funerals. I was comforted when I focused on the part about the valley of the shadow of death because I knew God understood my grief. But I did so almost to the exclusion of the remaining verses. But sitting with this psalm over time I have been enriched by the many facets it offers to all of life and daily living. I think of these five facets as the five points on the star that shines forth God’s care for us.
First, the “Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want,” is a phrase that may have lost a bit in translation. “To want” in the King James Version means not to desire, but to lack, to be without something. So a better translation might be “I shall lack for nothing”. Or “The Lord is my shepherd, what more do I need.” This speaks to God’s care, protection, and provision. When we trust in God’s care, we can be more grateful for what we have. Hidden in this is a reminder to cultivate an attitude of gratitude. You and I may want plenty, but what else do we truly need when God so graciously cares for us?
The second point became clear to me when I was struggling with a health problem a few years back. As a working Mom with an endless list of things to do, I had a hard time taking time for myself, or even resting when I was sick. Yet one day, I crawled back into bed after getting the boys on the bus and curled up with the Bible to prepare for a sermon. You see I could justify the rest if I worked first. Then I read this line, “God makes me lie down in green pastures.” The Lord as my shepherd wants me to rest. It is God’s will for me to rest, to lie down in a wonderful place (like my comfy bed). Somehow reading these words gave me permission to be gentler with myself and to rest and enjoy the care of my God.
Not only is this physical rest, God leads us beside still water and restores our soul. The soul is the part of us that makes us different from the animals, the part that makes us human, the part that longs for God. When we connect to God in prayer, through scripture and worship, God restores our soul, our spiritual nature. Yet it has been said that each of us has a God shaped hole inside of us. Sometimes we try to fill that hole with possessions, power, people, careers, alcohol, you name it. What we really want is for God to restore our souls, to fill the void, to bring us peace. The third facet of God’s care is that God leads us beside still waters and restores our soul, restores our spiritual life, grants us peace.
Facing fear is the fourth facet of God’s care. “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil: for you are with me, your rod and your staff- they comfort me.” The valley of the shadow of death is one way to hear this, in that our death and the death of loved ones can cast a shadow over our lives. Yet when you look at this word in Hebrew it can also mean the deepest darkness of our lives, like the dark night of the soul. We may experience this deep darkness as the shadow of depression, fear of being alone, an addiction, or the despair that engulfs. Each person has their own darkest shadow, a fear, regret, or a pain that is in great need of God’s care.
When Parker was five years old, my husband was in a car accident. Seeing his Dad recovering shook Parker up and he had a renewed sense of fear of the dark. This prompted Parker to sleep with me. He could not go to sleep unless a nightlight was on. One morning he asked me why the nightlight was off in the middle of the night and I told him the light would be on or I would be in the room with him. Just as my son needed the light or me with him to have the courage to face his fear, we too need the light of Christ or the presence of the great comforter to help us with our darkness.
As people of faith we have the light of scripture, the light of the love of our church family, the light of Christ that cast out the shadows of darkness in our lives. We also have the promise of the companionship and comfort of God.
God is with us in our darkness.
God is with us in our disease.
God is with us in our despair.
God is with us in our loneliness. Whatever shadow covers your life, God promises to be with you and to comfort you.
Finally, God prepares a table before me in the presence of my enemies. In the midst of our pain and darkness, God has provided a feast, a banquet for us. Our enemies may still be present, yet God will nourish us through our difficulties. Sometimes we turn to other people to meet our emotional needs, only to be disappointed. Even when our friends disappoint or our enemies confront, God will welcome us to the table. God’s provision and care come to fruition as God becomes our intimate host at the ultimate feast.
The suspense of faith is gone, Christ is the Messiah, because we know the voice of our Lord and we believe in his name, and he shines light into our lives. Amen.
