Sermon: Psalm 23 – Part 1

No matter who we are or how well we have it or how spiritually mature we are, we all need a shepherd.

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Last week, we finished up our series on the two letters Apostle Paul wrote to train and encourage a young pastor by the name of Timothy.

This rarely happens, but before I got to the end of the series, the Lord already gave me another series in mind. This, as far as how I’m planning it right now, is only going to be a two-parter. Who knows, God might turn it into a three-parter later on, we’ll see.

But as people in this church have been going through an unusually rough time, myself included, I was reminded of Psalm 23. So if you have your Bibles, please turn with me there. When I was growing up, it was perhaps the most common piece of scripture that I saw everywhere–from living room pictures and plaques and knick-knacks; to bookmarks and throw rugs; to being one of the few pieces of scripture that I would hear recited in a movie or TV show. Of course, it was also recited at funerals as well.

And I have to confess, I never understood why. It just seemed so plain and ordinary. It just seemed like a lot of nothing…that is, until I got much older and had some life experiences that showed me–yeah, we do walk through the valley of the shadow of death sometimes, don’t we? We need our souls refreshed, we need to be guided along the right path. So with everything going on with myself and within this church body, I turned to this passage again.

So let’s take a moment and read it now, together.

Scripture: 1 The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. 2 He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, 3 he refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake. 4 Even though I walk through the darkest valley,[a] I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. 5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. 6 Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

So what do the first four verses say to us today? It’s simple, yet we have such a hard time grasping it when life hits us hard. It’s like, “God, where are you? I thought you were in this. I thought we were in this together? I thought life was going to turn out differently and look, here we are–again–whatever happened to the joyful Christian life that is so promised to us?”

And then God reminds us that those blessings are not guaranteed all the time. If I were to sum up all of Psalm 23 in one sentence it would be what Jesus said in John 16: “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” That’s the guarantee. And that’s the gist of Psalm 23.

When I said that I wasn’t so sure if this series was going to be in two parts or three or maybe even more, it is because the very first verse–which is just one sentence–could be a whole sermon unto itself: “The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.” Most of us were brought up with the more confusing, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.”

One of the other reasons why I didn’t get how this Psalm was so popular. If the Lord is your shepherd, and you’re praising him in this psalm, then why would you not want him?

Makes sense, right? I mean, that’s how it reads. The Lord is my shepherd whom I do not want. I was probably a young adult before I understood what that actually meant. One of the reasons–in fact the main reason–why I don’t read King James. How am I supposed to teach the Bible if I don’t properly understand it?

So, newer versions translate this passage in a way that we can understand its true meaning.

  • The NLT (New Living Translation)–The Lord is my shepherd; I have all that I need.
  • The ERV (Easy-to-Read) The Lord is my shepherd. I will always have everything I need.
  • The MSG (Message Bible–paraphrase, not a translation) says, God, my shepherd! I don’t need a thing.
  • The YLT (Young’s Literal Translation)–Jehovah [is] my shepherd, I do not lack,

Or as a young child once said, “The Lord is my shepherd—what more shall I want?”

I think we get the point now. In God, we have all that we need. Notice, it isn’t all that we want…though other translations do say, “I shall not want.” But notice we have all that we need.

I was reminded–and I brought this up in another sermon not too long ago–about Paul’s uncanny ability to be content in any and every situation. He says this while being chained in prison, by the way, for what? Preaching the gospel to those who didn’t want to hear it. Kind of like what we saw with John the Baptist last week in Sunday School. Both were beheaded, and I made the point in Sunday School as well as afterward on social media that the two of them accepted their fate and never backed down or renounced the gospel, nor did they warn others that they should–not when Paul was writing to Timothy, knowing that his time was coming to a brutal end. Not when Paul wrote to anyone. But he told everyone to be steadfast, not wavering in the faith.

He, as well as every other apostle except for Judas and John, were brutally executed for having proclaimed that Jesus is the Messiah and that they witnessed the resurrected Jesus for themselves. We know what happened to Judas, but John was imprisoned and he wrote The Book of Revelation from there. They were all resolute in their claims, they never backed down, and they never told anyone else that this Christian thing is not worth it.

Why? Because they knew that they knew that they knew that Jesus was alive and that his Holy Spirit had changed them. His Holy Spirit was with them constantly throughout their struggles, and His Holy Spirit gave them all that they needed. Even in prison, they lacked nothing. Sure, they had food, shelter, and clothing. But they also had what we are about to read next, which basically boils down to His supernatural peace and presence within them.

“He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside quiet waters; he refreshes my soul.”

The other night when my mom was taken into the emergency room, I stayed with her for a few hours, and she slept for most of that time, but once the doctors started poking and hooking her up to things, she woke up. Slowly, but she woke up.

Now imagine someone at this stage of Alzheimer’s. She’s not able to really speak or communicate, so she wasn’t able to really let out verbally how she felt, and I don’t know how much she was aware of what was happening to her. But she was not comfortable–you could tell by the sour expressions on her face, and she was fidgety. I had my phone on me and decided to play some hymns and see if that calmed her down. It didn’t at first, but it did calm me down. I mean, even over a phone with cheap speakers, the presence of God still comes.

And there were a few times when you could tell she was trying to sing, but couldn’t. I also put on some prayer and scripture reading, and it was then that she seemed most responsive, as if she was agreeing with what was being said.

Not knowing how much longer she is going to be with us, the song, “It Is Well With My Soul,” kind of struck me, and I knew it is well with her soul, no matter what condition she is in right now.

We all know the first verse, probably all of them by heart. But let me read that to you this morning, “When peace like a river, attendeth my way, When sorrows like sea billows roll; Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say, It is well, it is well, with my soul.”

How many of us can attest to that?

I’ve read this to you before, but it bears repeating.

Horatio Spafford, a successful lawyer and land investor in Chicago, was married with five children in the late 1800s. His success soon grinded to a halt, however, when his only son died about the same time as the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. All of Spafford’s investments burned to the ground.

Spafford, seeking to regroup, planned a trip for his family to Europe. At the last minute, he stayed behind to sell some property, but he sent his wife Anna and four daughters on the SS Ville du Havre ahead of him. While the ship crossed near Newfoundland in the dead of night, the Ville du Havre collided with the Loch Earn and rapidly sank in the North Atlantic. Spafford received a telegram from Anna that said “Saved alone…What shall I do?” from Wales, where another ship had taken survivors. All their daughters had perished in the freezing waters. Her children were literally ripped from her arms as the ocean sucked them down with the ship.

Spafford quickly took a ship to meet his wife in Wales. As he passed over the spot where the Ville du Havre sank, the captain reportedly pointed out the significance of their location. Many sources relate that Spafford went to his cabin and immediately began to write this hymn of faith. However, his friend Ira Sankey, who later took “It Is Well” on the evangelical circuit and made it famous, reported that Spafford wrote the poem in 1876 while Ira was staying in the Spafford’s home.

Horatio and Anna Spafford quickly had three more children, but one died young of scarlet fever. Remarkably, the tragedies surrounding this song of peace and comfort don’t stop with the Spaffords.

By 1878, composer Philip P. Bliss, who traveled and sang on evangelistic crusades, put Spafford’s poem to music. He and Ira Sankey published “It Is Well with My Soul” in the hymnal Gospel Song No. 2.

Philip Bliss also suffered tragedy. While traveling by train to a crusade in 1876, a bridge collapsed as the Pacific Express passed over it, which caused the train to plummet into a deep ravine. Bliss initially escaped but returned to extricate his wife from the burning wreckage. They both died in the fire, leaving behind two young sons. Words to a poem (later to become another famous hymn) entitled “I Will Sing of My Redeemer” were found in Bliss’s trunk.

The grief experienced during the writing of “It Is Well with My Soul” has undoubtedly infused the lines of the verses with faith and comfort. Communication penned during desperation facilitates a remarkable oxymoron: it connects hearers toward finding comfort in a God who allows tragedy.

And that leads us to the next two verses. A God who allows tragedy.

Verse 3 continues with, “He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”

Earlier, I said that I was thinking about splitting the two sermons in half–three verses this week; and three verses next week. But I didn’t because, notice the interesting way in which verses three and four go together in the way they do. “He guides me along the right paths…” and then, “I walk through the valley of the shadow of death.”

Wait a minute… I’m going through the valley of the shadow of death, and that’s the right path? God, are you sure you know where you’re going? You’re not lost, are you? I’m not alone and lost, am I? You truly are here guiding me, right?

Going back to the apostles, this Psalm is the testimony of Paul and the other apostles, but written almost 1,000 years earlier. Almost prophetic. But by the way, this reads, it is very testimonial about David’s own life. And at what time in his life David wrote this is unknown because it fits in so well with his whole life.

Some scholars speculate that David may have written Psalm 23 while still young and living the quiet and reflective lifestyle of being a shepherd. They suggest this might have inspired him to imagine God as providing protection and guidance over his flock from this perspective, perhaps mirroring their devotion exhibited toward their flock during that period of his life.

Others say:

Psalm 23 was likely written during one of David’s darkest times: when facing hostility from King Saul who sought to eliminate him. Under such pressure, David often turned to God for strength and deliverance which may have informed the content and style of Psalm 23.

Some scholars think that David composed Psalm 23 during his reign as King David, providing insight into a ruler’s dependence on divine guidance for guidance as they govern. Furthermore, during periods of civil unrest, it may have served to rally and unify David’s followers by reminding them of God’s unwavering support and protection.

Psalm 23 may also have been composed by David as part of his final years on earth when reflecting back upon life and searching for truth within. Given the reflective tone of its verses, some believe David wrote it as an introspective piece, looking back upon the journey through which life took him while honoring divine guidance that helped lead him along his way.

You see, this psalm fits in every period of David’s turbulent life, and it fits in every period of our sometimes turbulent lives as well…fortunately and unfortunately. I’m fortunate that it’s always promised and always true, but I’m not so happy that we have to live a turbulent life where we need this our whole lives. I understand why so many people flock to Prosperity Teaching because it’s what people so desperately want to hear– “everything will be alright, and all your dreams will come true.” But like I said last week, Paul told Timothy that many will gather around teachers who will only tell them what they want to hear.

Nobody wants to hear that we’re going to be going in and out of the valley of the shadow of death multiple times in our lives.

But the good news is this: The Bible doesn’t tell us that we die in the valley of the shadow of death–we make it through. That’s the key word–I’ll always remember Walt Sears who had a boat here in the summers, and when he came he would often sing. I don’t remember the song, but I remember his words as he introduced the song–this was 30 years ago, at least. We make it through the valley of the shadow of death. Its valley may be called “the shadow of death,” but we don’t die there.

We make it through.

Henry Blackaby, who was a Canadian pastor, author and evangelist, and who passed away several months ago, said this:

“According to Webster, a shadow is the darkness cast by something cutting off light. It’s an illusion. There’s no substance to a shadow, but shadows can be terrifying because they play tricks on you. When you were a child, did you ever hide under your bed covers to get away from the frightening shadows in your bedroom? When you turned on the light and the shadows disappeared, you saw that you had nothing to fear.

“…David faced many dangers in his life—times when he didn’t know if he’d live out the day; times when he was misunderstood, threatened, and attacked; times when the shame of his own sin sent him into the depths of despair. Through it all, he experienced the unwavering presence of God. Just as he used to lead his sheep through the valleys, David’s own Shepherd guided him through the dark times in his life. Just as David’s sheep used to recognize his voice through the darkness and follow the sound, God’s voice brought comfort and direction to David when he didn’t know where to go.

“Life is full of shadows. There is evil out there. There are dangers. There are frightening valleys where the mountains block out the light. Death casts a shadow of fear across life. But Jesus, your Good Shepherd, will walk with you through the valleys. He’ll dispel the shadows of fear because he is the Light (John 1:4). (BORROW The Experience)

No matter who we are or how well we have it or how spiritually mature we are, we all need a shepherd. I have been placed at this pulpit as a shepherd of sorts, but I am not your true shepherd. God is. Nowhere in the Bible does it say that pastors replace or equal God as your shepherd. I am privileged, humbled, and amazed that you still consider me as a shepherd to you, but I need Jesus as my shepherd just as much as anyone.

There’s no difference between me and you, only that God picked me to come up here, and I reluctantly said, “Yes.”

So what does this analogy in Psalm 23 say about who we all are in God’s eyes and what our personal relationship with God should look like? Well, if you ever struggle with something called pride, let me read this to you from gotquestions.org:

Sheep are basically helpless creatures who cannot survive long without a shepherd, upon whose care they are totally dependent. Likewise, like sheep, we are totally dependent upon the Lord to shepherd, protect, and care for us.

Sheep are essentially dumb animals that do not learn well and are extremely difficult to train. They do not have good eyesight, nor do they hear well. They are very slow animals who cannot escape predators; they have no camouflage and no weapons for defense such as claws, sharp hooves, or powerful jaws.

Furthermore, sheep are easily frightened and become easily confused. In fact, they have been known to plunge blindly off a cliff following one after another [sounds like our social and political climate right now] Shepherds in Bible times faced incredible dangers in caring for their sheep, putting their own lives at risk by battling wild animals such as wolves and lions who threatened the flock. David was just such a shepherd (1 Samuel 17:34–35). In order to be good shepherds, they had to be willing to lay down their lives for the sheep.

It reminds me yet again of Isaiah 53.  I would like to close by reading just verses six and seven to you.

6 We all, like sheep, have gone astray,
each of us has turned to our own way;
and the Lord has laid on him
the iniquity of us all.

7 He was oppressed and afflicted,
yet he did not open his mouth;
he was led like a lamb to the slaughter,
and as a sheep before its shearers is silent,
so he did not open his mouth.

You see, Jesus, David’s shepherd, became a sacrificial lamb for us. But death did not defeat that lamb. That lamb rose from the grave so that we too can have a shepherd like David did. A shepherd in whom we can have a relationship, and in whom we can trust through the darkest valleys of our lives.

Through everything that I’ve gone through, I can attest that God has given me peace and strength, and though I may have walked through that dark valley that I wish I could have avoided, His shepherd’s rod and staff comforted and never failed. I still had all that I needed, and I have been placed in those green pastures through the faithfulness of His Holy Spirit.

Not only is that a testimony of God’s love and provision, but it is also a promise. When we go through that valley guided by God himself, He will guide us on the right path even though it doesn’t seem like it, and He will still comfort us and bring us all that we need in that time. Not for our name’s sake, but for his. Meaning, this test will turn into a testimony; and this mess will turn into a message. God will be glorified and we will praise him for guiding and providing through the valley and through the storm back into the green pastures once again.

 

 
This is an updated edition of a post originally published on First Baptist Church of Watkins Glen

Featured Image by Ben from Pixabay

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