Oh Good Shepherd: Psalm 23

Scripture: Psalm 23

The Divine Shepherd
A Psalm of David.
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures;
he leads me beside still waters;
he restores my soul.
He leads me in right paths
for his name’s sake.

Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
I fear no evil;
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff—
they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord
my whole life long.

—

You know this scripture. Usually, we hear it at a moment of public grief, like a funeral. Its familiar words and soothing images offer us comfort, even if the poetry isn’t really about death. Psalm 23 is so common at funerals, one of my professors railed against its placement in the funeral while another suggested pastors need two sermons on it: one for funerals and one for ordinary time. This Psalm is so familiar we might need to look deeply to really find its meaning and the balm it can offer our struggles.

Psalm 23 is often attributed to David; yes, that King David. And while he was once a shepherd and a dynamic, charismatic, multi-talented leader, scholars suggest the idea of him jotting it down is unlikely. The Jewish Study Bible suggests it is an exilic or post-exilic piece: written by people longing for a safe space and a safe return to their homelands. Composed by and for folks who have a literal idea of what it would mean for God to “prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.” Of course, David knows this life of struggle, plucked from the work of shepherding, battling his Goliath, facing his demons, building a country, all while he makes epic mistakes. And while David may not have hummed out a tune to go with it, we can imagine the poetry in his life just as we can imagine it in the life of excited people, and just like we are called to frame and imagine our own lives.

Still Waters and Green Pastures
Of course, both David and the people of Israel knew what it meant for a sheep to lay down in green pastures. And since most of us have limited animal husbandry experience, I think we need to get into the context so we can understand the nuances of the scripture. The poetry begins with, “The Lord is my Shepherd,” naming that God takes care of wants and the wants are specific: food, water, and safety. “He leads me beside the still waters” reminds us the shepherd does not push but leads, sometimes even singing, talking, and coaching the sheep enough that they know the shepherd’s voice. It also reminds us that sheep, which we usually consider to be not so smart, are also not so easy. The sheep won’t just do something because the shepherds want them to. Another translation might be, “He settles me down in green pastures, he leads me beside still waters.” 

Sheep require calm, clear, and still water. They won’t drink from water that is moving. According to Kenneth Bailey, a scholar who lived in Palestine and connected with the land and the way people worked, shepherds often dug a trench out from streams where the sheep could come to the still water and drink all they needed (The Good Shepherd). He reminds us that sheep won’t rest unless they have all the water, food, and safety they need to rest and digest. This means that a shepherd cannot make sheep lay down. 

I guess just like a high-maintenance toddler, they have to be coached into a nap…given some milk, a blanket, Mr. Bear and taken on a drive, then carried to the sofa for an afternoon nap. Sheep will not just rest in green pastures. They must be full, hydrated, and feel safe before they will rest and digest. Shepherds have to monitor the sheep’s anxiety; the sheep cannot be in fight, flight, fawn or freeze, and the shepherd doesn't have any anxiety meds to offer. So, the shepherd has to be wise, proactive about safe places to rest, considering how far you can move the flock, is it a rainy season or a dry season. The region surrounding Israel does not look like the setting for the Sound of Music. Green pastures and still waters are not always abundant, particularly in adverse climates. A green pasture is a rare treasure and a good shepherd finds it. And maybe, it is a sheep’s version of earth as it is in heaven.

God Restores My Soul

“He restores my soul” is beautiful poetry. It invites us to ponder well-being and perhaps, as Methodists, even Wesley’s question of “How is it with your soul?” But another translation might be, “he brings me back, he causes me to repent.” This is something we miss in our more common English translation. Restoration also occupies this space of repentance and returning to God’s presence. “He restores my soul” is about repentance, but no one is mad at the sheep for being a sheep and thinks they need to be punished. No one looks at a sheep and questions its’ worth or value, or deems it in need of a baptism to wash off that original sin. This image of repentance does not have any of our baggage and it is born out of love. This repentance is about being whole. The lost sheep cannot find its way back; it is dependent on the shepherd to come and find it. Bailey suggests that typically, when a sheep is lost, it will find a rock or a bush to hide amongst and then start to call out, bleating. The sheep is in such distress (just like us when our fight, flight, or freeze hormones are coursing through our bodies) they are unable to walk back to the fold. 

In a beautiful Midrash, Moses leaves to find a sheep missing from his fold. When it draws near he says, “I did not know you ran away because of thirst, you must be weary” (Shemot Rabbah 2:2). The Rabbi’s creative illumination continues, telling how Moses tenderly carries the sheep back to the fold. This is when God knows Moses is the right leader for liberating his people. This is a good shepherd and there is no room for fire and brimstone, shaming and moralizing.

“He leads me on paths of righteousness” invites us to pursue justice and compassion through the metaphor and, as we ponder the role of a shepherd in the ancient near east, we are reminded shepherds don’t wander (Thomas A Golding, Bibliotheca Sacra, “The Images of Shepherding in the Bible Part One,” Jan 2006). They know where they are going and their paths are thought through. Even if the paths are hard to travel at times, they are still the only path the shepherd can traverse, leading to where the flock will have all of its needs met. We might feel this as we struggle to find our way or travel roads that feel steep.

The portion about the “shadow of death” or “valley of deep darkness” is something we experience as modern people. Perhaps loss, grief, anxiety, depression, or a search for healing of mind and body and spirit that feels out of reach can be a dark valley. There are political seasons of darkness when gun violence and inhumanity are loud. Listening to school kids share their plans for next year if their family is not deported is a valley of deep darkness I visited recently. 

The realities of the landscape the shepherds would have traveled in the ancient world had cavernous gullies cut by gushing rains through the near east. These places could be dark and deep and dangerous in a storm. Once-dry creek beds can suddenly rush with treacherous waters. Past and present, fast waters can sweep life away. The valley of the shadow of death, the valley of deep darkness, is felt and dangerous. The metaphor invites us to a place of risk and loss and longing, and then reminds us that God is with us; we are not alone. 

God’s Rod and Staff: They Comfort Us. 

And to be clear, the shepherd is not using the staff to whack the sheep. Even as some Christians have used this language to suggest corporal punishment is right up God’s alley, they would have had these key tools to defend the sheep from predators, both two and four legs. Just like David defeating the mighty Goliath with the tools of a shepherd—a sling and a stone—the staff may help the sheep when they are unbalanced or need some other help. The shepherd might even lean on the staff or test out the ground with prodding movements. David defended sheep against lions and bears and predators just like he defended Israel. Such tools make the sheep safe; these are not tools for force or direction that comes through pain, and they are not a whip and a prod. If the Psalmist thought a whip was the right metaphor for God, they would have used it. If Jesus thought a prod was right, he would have said, “I am the good rancher,” not the good shepherd. But tools like a whip and prod are not the right metaphor for God’s presence in our lives. God does not whip and prod us. Love Divine leads, guides, and protects us with rod and staff.

The Table: Bonus Metaphor in the Most Famous Psalm

The final section of the Psalm is a new metaphor, less about shepherding God and more about God’s table, but together all the same goals of the first stanza are met: food for a feast, healing oil, and honoring the person’s being, an attitude of abundance with the table, the cup overflowing and dwelling with God in life. The second section shows not only protection and comfort from God, but rather than being pursued by enemies or predators, one is pursued by goodness and mercy. Plus, the idea of a table in the presence of those who would prey on you…that’s a pretty sweet deal. 

5 “You prepare a table before me

   in the presence of my enemies;

you anoint my head with oil;

   my cup overflows.

6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me

   all the days of my life,

and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord

   my whole life long.”

What We Worship

Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote, “A person will worship something, have no doubt about that…That which dominates our imaginations and our thoughts will determine our lives, and our character. Therefore, it behooves us to be careful what we worship, for what we are worshipping we are becoming.” What we worship, we become. 

The Bible is filled with images of the Good Shepherd tending his flock and a Mother Eagle drawing her young under her wing; images of hosting abundance and offering grace. The Bible has images of a Warrior God, dominating and reigning violence, too. What we worship, we become. We, like those of the past, are asked to choose. 

There are plenty of churches worshiping White Christian Nationalism. And they find that in the Bible. You can find verses if you want to dominate another; sexism and misogyny are there, too. Heterosexism and transphobia aren't really there, not technically, but folks who embody it don’t care much for technicality and they will lift up a Bible to shout hate at their neighbors and even their own children. What we worship, we become.

The Good Shepherd is the image chosen by Jesus. Hopefully we will have the courage to choose it, as well. Perhaps we can demand it from leaders to find green pastures, still waters, and safe passage through the death-dealing shadows and valleys. And we can work to be it, to embody it just like people of faith before us. We see it in King and Huerta, in Ruston and Truth. For these shepherds and hundreds and thousands more, we give thanks. For our courage to become a good shepherd, we pray. Amen.