Psalm 23: Help for the Journey

Jim Gilman

Introduction

Psalm 23 is surely one the most loved passages in the Bible, and for good reason. With two powerful images, the Psalmist captures the essentials of human life, both bad and good, both sad and joyous. The first image is of a journey, of a shepherd who guides and protects his flock as they linger near still waters and survive “the valley of the shadow of death.” The second image is of home; where the pilgrim enjoys the hospitality of a dinner table and an overflowing cup. Although these two images are in a way quite different, they are organically connected.

All Christians are on a journey, a pilgrimage. Our paths take us through the blessings of green pastures and through the valley of the shadow of death. The labyrinth, just outside the church, represents for us the journey the Psalmist describes. I hope that on occasion you will walk the labyrinth with Psalm 23 in your heart, remembering moments in your life’s pilgrimage: remembering the green pastures and still waters; remembering the valley of the shadow of death; and remembering God’s table of blessing and overflowing cup of mercy. In this sermon, I want to walk us through the labyrinth of life’s journey with three stops along the way, as recounted in Psalm 23.

Green Pastures, Still Waters

Sometimes in our personal journeys we are so overwhelmed by the valleys that we forget the green pastures and still waters. When you walk the labyrinth remember to stop and meditate on the green pastures and still waters. Think of them right now. What are the green pastures? What still waters of peace can you thank the Good Shepherd for?

*love of family *supportive friends *health *decent shelter *food *pets *employment *beauty of God’s creation *a church home *a safe community *Trinity *caring priests, *resources with which to help others in need *freedom *and many other blessings you can thank God for.

Every day we should remember to thank God for green pastures and still waters.

Valley of the Shadow of Death

But as all Christians well know, along with green pastures and still waters, there are valleys of the shadow of death. Indeed, for many Christians the valleys of the labyrinth are deep and the shadows long and dark. This is the second stop for meditation on our journey through life’s labyrinth. What dark valley are you or a loved one traveling? What suffering and pain and trouble do you know? An insufferable boss or co-worker or neighbor; bullied at school; the loss of job or foreclosed home; a wayward child, broken relationships, divorce; feeling lonely; or perhaps suffering the shadows of addiction or depression, living with an irreversible disability or mental illness. Think of the tragedy unfolding in Japan; so much destruction, so much suffering, so much dying. Perhaps facing terminal illness may be the darkest valley of them all. How can a human soul face such dark valleys? The length and darkness of the shadows sometimes seem more than any soul alone can bear: the hollow, numb feeling of helplessness; of feeling forsaken and orphaned in this life, seemingly even by the Good Shepherd. How can there be any hope or help or light in such shadows? How can a weary soul be revived and restored? Psalm 23 provide an answer?

On a strictly human level, there may be no adequate answer to valleys and shadows, to indiscriminate pain and suffering; no light strong enough to extinguish the shadows. Weeping may be the only realistic response. At this Lenten time of year we recall that we are dust and to dust we return. The dark shadow of suffering and dying reminds us of this fact. And yet, as Rev. Owen reminded us some weeks ago in a sermon, we are not only clods of dust, but sacred dirt clods. We want and expect more, as Children in the image of God.

Psalm 23 does say that the Good Shepherd travels with us through the valleys and shadows, protecting and comforting us with his rod and staff. And for Christians, the Good Shepherd is with us in the valleys in a dramatic and concrete way. God’s response to indiscriminate pain and suffering, to illness and depression, is that in Jesus, the Good Shepherd, God became human and walks the valley of the shadow of death with us. There’s no other way, no other answer the pain and suffering that is part of walking life’s labyrinth. Jesus, in becoming one of us, suffers all that we suffer, and therefore can understands in a very personal way what we go through and is with us in our pain and suffering. Remember the old spiritual? “Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen; nobody knows, but Jesus.” The Good Shepherd suffered the pain of rejection and ridicule; he struggled personally with choosing between his own will and God’s will, he suffered physical pain and torture, he knew the awful trauma of feeling entirely forsaken by friends and family, even by God; he knew fear of dying and death. Jesus knows the trouble we’ve seen; he is present with us through the valley and shadows with us; and you and I are the Good Shepherd’s rod and staff traveling with each other through the shadows, helping, caring, comforting. Fellow Christians are one of the main ways Jesus is present with us today in our troubles.

Overflowing Cup

Sometimes the valley of the shadow of death appears so dark that talk of green pastures and still waters seems like a cruel joke. But according to the Psalmist, the valley is not the end of the labyrinth. In the midst of trouble and adversity, the Psalmist says, the Lord prepares “a table” and “anoints the head with oil,” and overflows our cup. How can this be, in the midst of trouble? What can we make of these images? The table represents the intimacy and joy of being a part of God’s family; oil indicates that we are honored members of God’s family; and our overflowing cup represents the abundance of good things that are ours in the household of God; and all this in the presence of enemies; all this during times of adversity and trouble. God’s abundance is not simply a hope for the future; abundance is God’s gift to us now, right now, in the midst of adversity, in the presence of enemies; the abundance of “goodness and mercy” that follow us “all the days of our lives,” as the Psalmist puts it.

All of this sounds so good, perhaps at times too good to be true. To tell you the truth, when we’re in the valley of the shadow of death, the prepared table and overflowing cup seem like fantasy land. But the Psalmist lets us escape neither to fantasy land, where there are no shadows, nor escape to the valley of despair, where there is only self-pity. In the midst of those two enemies, those two temptations, there is the Good Shepherd; there is the abundance of Christian worship and fellowship, there is the abundance of compassion, goodness, and mercy. Not only does Jesus show us mercy in our trouble, follows of Jesus are to show the same kind of compassion and mercy in times of trouble. There is no need for mercy if all is well with us. What the shepherd promises us for the rest of our lives is the healing of mercy in the presence of enemies and adversities.

I don’t know how mercy changes things, but it does, miraculously. I’ve not known half the suffering of some of you; but I’ve known enough to know that God’s grace and mercy can and does miraculously transform my tendency toward despair and self-pity into some kind of joy and celebration; like sitting around the dinner table with family and enjoying a darn good meal. It doesn’t make human sense; I don’t know how it happens, except that it does, by God’s grace.

Conclusion

So, we can’t avoid it; we are all walking the labyrinth that Psalm 23 describes. Every day we should give thanks for green pastures and still waters; every day we should remember that Jesus and other Christians walk with us through the valley of the shadow of death, shadows of fear and tears; shadows of depression and despair. And we should remember that we are anointed members of God’s family; we sit at God’s table and drink from an overflowing cup of mercy, as Holy Communion reminds us. Walking the labyrinth, it’s true we sorrow in our lives; but even more we rejoice for the Good Shepherd’s goodness and mercy.