Sermon on the 23rd Psalm

SERMON ON THE 23RD PSALM

TEXT: PSALM 23



INTRODUCTION TO THE SCRIPTURE
The 23rd Psalm is probably one of the most beloved scriptures of our time. It is memorized by kids in Sunday school, popularized by jazz singers like Bobby McFerrin, recited at just about every funeral written about by clergy like Rabbi Howard Kushner and illustrated in a children's book author, Tim Ladwig.1

This popularity is a relatively new phenomenon. The 23rd Psalm didn't appear in major liturgical resources like the Methodist Book of Worship until 1916 and the Episcopal Prayer Book didn't include it in the funeral service until much later. It was probably Henry Ward Beecher, the famous turn of the century Congregational preacher who brought it to prominence calling the psalm "the nightingale of the psalms." He said,
It has charmed more griefs to rest than all the philosophy of the world. ... It has comforted the noble host of the poor. It has sung courage to the army of the disappointed. It has poured balm and consolation into the heart of the sick, of captives in dungeons, of widows in their pinching griefs, of orphans in their loneliness." (William L. Holladay. The Psalms through Three Thousand Years: Prayerbook of a Cloud of Witnesses.)

The Psalm's best-known form is from the King James translation which is printed in your bulletin. Let's say it together. Some might recite it from memory.

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul; he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me. Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely, goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.


Joe asked me this week what I was preaching on today. When I said, "The 23rd Psalm," he commented, "How are you going to find something new to say about that?" Well, I'm not sure I have to. The preachers' preacher, Fred Craddock had a word of advice for ministers like me who are always looking for an angle, for something new and startling to extract from the text. "Just tell people what they already know. It's the old story that they need to hear again and again."

I'm pretty sure that's why we resonate with this Psalm. It is the old story we need to hear concentrated into one short paragraph. I'm going to extract just three nuggets from this tiny gold mine of scripture but I think they make huge theological statements.

1. This is a Psalm of comfort.
God knows we need comfort. It is said that we live in an age of anxiety. Fear dominates our discourse all out of proportion to probabilities. Children are taught to fear strangers, adults are confronted with lists of fears-terrorists, home invaders, failure, germs, calories. We can be caught up in this atmosphere dread even before we face our everyday challenges. Psalms of assurance like this help alleviate that deficit. We are reminded that in spite of the worries, conflicts, stresses, and unknowns of our lives, we can draw on an inner resource that we call God. The imagery is lovely.

He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul; he leads me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

When a sheep is lying down in a green pasture, it is totally safe. In this word painting, even the waters are still. A bubbling brook might be equally nice but wouldn't contribute to the peacefulness of this scene. But the real clincher is in the first line. The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. Better translated, "I have everything I need." Oh, that we could believe that.

I already have everything I need.

Jesus reiterated that thought in his lilies of the field speech. Teresa of Avila sang about it in her poem, "Solo Dios Basta," God alone is enough.2

In Rabbi Kushner's essay on this Psalm, he talks about his son, born with an incurable illness, dead at only 14 years old. He writes:

I asked myself, how did my wife and I get through that? You would think that would shatter the faith of the average person. Where did we find the strength and the ability to raise him, to comfort him when he was sick and scared, and ultimately to lose him? And the only answer is, when we used up all of our own strength and love and faith, there really is a God, and he replenishes your love and your strength and your faith.

2. Three short sentences encapsulate a whole theology of good and evil.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me. Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

Everybody walks through the valley of the shadow of death. Everybody! There is no promise here that pain, sorrow, and despair will pass us by.

But there is a promise that we will be accompanied in our travels through that dark valley. For thou art with me. When William Sloan Coffin's son died in an accident at age 24, Coffin was the pastor of the Riverside Church in New York City. He was surrounded and comforted by the members of his congregation. Later he wrote a thank you to the people who had carried him through that dark time: "You gave me what God gives all of us-minimum protection and maximum support." That kind of sums up problem of evil. No one is immune from life's adversities; we have minimum protection. But the Psalm tells us we have maximum support.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. ... My cup overflows.

I love how the support is imagined as a table set for a banquet. Especially on a communion Sunday, it's great to lay claim to God's sustaining care. "Come, I've made a meal for you. Eat, and gain strength. Look, all around this table stand your enemies-the cancer that threatens your health, the friction that is wearing away your relationship, the worries about so many problems, the exhaustion that comes when you try to do it all. Let these enemies observe your brimming cup, overflowing with the wine of gladness. Let them watch you sit at the table and be fed. Let them see that you will be made strong."

3. Finally, God is for us.

Surely, goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life ...

Lovely as this phrase is, it is wimpy in contrast with the Hebrew. A better translation might be, "God's loving kindness pursues me all the days of my life." It shows a God who is actively longing for us and working for our well-being. We often call ourselves religious seekers but miss the many places in scripture where God is seeking us.

The Psalm ends with another statement of assurance.

... and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

The Hebrew does not support this as being a statement of hope in the afterlife; "forever" in Hebrew is conceived in earthly terms. We Christians, have read into this a belief in resurrection hope. But I think that is within reason. The God who protects us, nurtures us, and pursues us in this life, will surely not abandon us in the next. The Lord is our shepherd, we have everything we need, now and always.


BENEDICTION:
Beloved, God's loving kindness will pursue you all the days of your life.
That means today, and this week, and forevermore. Amen



1 Psalm Twenty Three. Tim Ladwig. Eerdmans. The text of the familiar psalm comparing God to a loving shepherd accompanies illustrations which shows the world of love and fear faced by an urban African-American family. The book is available from Pilgrim's Children's collection.

2 Let nothing disturb you / Let nothing frighten you. / All things are passing away: / God never changes. / Patience obtains all things. / Whoever has God lacks nothing; / God alone is enough.