 Dr. John E. Harnish Senior Pastor |
The Shepherd's Song
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Though most of us know very little about sheep, there is little doubt that we know a lot about this psalm. This is certainly the best known and most loved passage in all of scripture. And it speaks to one of our deepest needs... 1. WE NEED A SHEPHERD The fact that we are compared to sheep is not necessarily a compliment to the human condition. No other animal (except the human baby) is as dependent or demands as much on the part of the caregiver as sheep. If they roll over on their backs, they stay there, and they can die. If a dog or wolf comes into the pack, they are utterly defenseless. If they get lost, they are hopeless and helpless. They can eat their way into the briars and hedgerows, simply following their noses until their nubby, wooly coats become tangled in the brush and they are stuck there until someone gets them out. Sheep are totally dependent upon the shepherd for life itself. Sound familiar? Sounds all too human to me. The fact is, we need a shepherd. And yet, in the real world, not only do we know practically nothing about sheep, we are even less likely to admit our need of a shepherd. Day by day, we live as if we can make it pretty well on our own. Successful, self-made, secure in our self-actualized lives, investments cared for, retirement carefully planned. On a day-to-day basis, and outside of church, we are not likely to admit our need of a shepherd. James Rudin, a writer for the UM Reporter, describes how a contemporary news editor might have tried to update David’s psalm to more adequately address the reality of American life today: “The Lord’s my shepherd.” Drop the shepherd analogy. It alienates the urban reader. Also, change “Lord” to something else. It’s not gender neutral. We prefer: “The Celestial Spirit provides the self-help I need to successfully make my way in a stressful society.” (J. Rudin, UM Reporter, Aug. 21, 1992) Then something happens that is not in the program:
and we are reminded once again of our desperate need of the shepherd. In response to this basic need, the psalmist says… 2. THE SHEPHERD LEADS ME TO GREEN PASTURES AND BESIDE STILL WATERS, WHERE HE RESTORES MY SOUL My generation and those following are pretty much separated from our agrarian roots. For most of our kids, Grandma lives in a condo, not on a farm, eggs are found under the cheese at Kroger rather than under a hen in a chicken coop, and milk comes from a container in the fridge. Oh, they might know in theory that milk comes from a cow, but they have no idea how such a thing could actually happen! We know even less about sheep, and we spend precious little time in green pastures and still waters. More time is spent:
But maybe that very separation makes the imagery of this psalm more powerful today than ever. Perhaps because most of us live most of our lives in the world of urban complexity or suburban sprawl, the image of the shepherd leading us to green pastures and still waters is even more enticing. It all has to do with what the Bible calls “Sabbath.”
Perhaps no term better expresses our contemporary life than the relatively new 24/7—available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week via cell phone, palm pilots, instant messaging, always on call. In a 24/7 world, we need Sabbath like never before. Spiritually, physically, mentally, emotionally, socially, in every way we are reaffirming the truth of the Old Testament call to remember the Sabbath—God’s gracious gift. In fact, it is the last gift of the creation narrative: the day of rest. It was 25 years ago that Judy and I moved to Dexter—new appointment, new congregation, new ministry. I was making a frantic effort to make a good impression and to do everything at once. Then one day, one of the leading laywomen in the congregation brought me a small poster with a sketch of a harried preacher, running around with robes flying in the breeze, and the words: “DON’T JUST DO SOMETHING, STAND THERE.” More than once in my life and ministry, I have needed to hear that word, the invitation to “Sabbath.” The shepherd leads me to green pastures and beside still waters, where he restores my soul. 3. THE SHEPHERD LEADS ME IN PATHS OF RIGHTEOUSNESS FOR HIS OWN NAME’S SAKE
Eugene Peterson’s translation of this phrase is: “True to your word, you let me catch my breath and then you send me in the right direction.” (Peterson, Eugene, The Message, page 393) Shakespeare gives Polonius the line, “To thine own self be true,” but of course, that is at best only a half-truth. Try telling that to a sailor! If a sailor tried to navigate only by looking at his own mast, his own bow and stern, he would go in circles. Rather than looking at himself, the sailor looks to the compass, the horizon, the stars—those fixed, unchanging points in the universe which keep him on the right course, the “right path,” even when it means going against the current, against the tide. John Wesley’s last letter before his death was written to William Wilberforce, an almost lone voice waging a campaign against slavery in the British Empire. With his last breath, Wesley encouraged him to keep on the “right path:” Unless God has raised you up, I see not how you can go through your glorious enterprise in opposing that execrable villainy, which is the scandal of religion, of England and of human nature. But if God be for you, who can be against you? Be not weary in well-doing. Go on, then, in the name of God and in the power of his might, till even American slavery, the vilest that ever saw the sun, shall vanish away before it. (Telford, John, editor, The Letters of John Wesley, London; Epworth Press, 1931, Vol. VII, page 265) I tell you what…it can get pretty rough out there on the right path. Ask the Methodists of South Africa who struggled against apartheid and now face the great struggle of building a new community of justice and truth. Ask our youth who try to hold their convictions about drugs, alcohol and sexual promiscuity against the power of media and peer pressure. Ask anyone who tries to speak a word of peace in a world where even so-called Christian evangelists call for violence and political assassinations. Ask businessmen and women who try to live by a high ethical standard when the “bottom line” is the only “bottom line” that seems to matter. Walking in the paths of righteousness can be tough, but that’s where the shepherd leads. The shepherd restores our souls in green pastures and beside still waters in order to strengthen us for the journey down paths of righteousness, all for his own name’s sake. 4. AND EVEN WHEN THE PATH LEADS THROUGH THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW, WE WILL NOT FEAR, FOR THE SHEPHERD IS WITH US I am told there is a valley not far from Jericho which was literally known as the “valley of shadow,” a narrow pass through rugged terrain with cliffs rising on both sides, plagued by wolves and robbers, extremely dangerous to a flock of helpless sheep. I’ve never been to that specific valley, but I’ve been through the valley of the shadow. Haven’t you?
The psalmist discovered that even when he walked through the valley of shadow, he could journey without fear, simply because the shepherd journeyed with him. Did you notice the interesting shift of language in the psalm at this point? Until now, the poet has been talking about God, speaking in the third person:
Now, at this point, he begins speaking to God, in the direct first person:
It’s one thing to talk about God—to witness to God’s presence, to praise God for his faithfulness, to proclaim God’s goodness to the world. But when we walk through the valley of the shadow, we need to know God walks with us—intimately, personally, in the first person singular, with me. Some years ago, Harold Kushner wrote his well-known book, When Bad Things Happen to Good People, while dealing with the tragic death of his own son. He followed it with another book called Who Needs God? When I am resting in green pastures, beside still waters, I may not realize that I need God. But when life becomes turbulent, when I realize how tenuous my grip on life may be, when I worry that death may come and render meaningless everything I have worked so hard for, that is when I need God. I need to know that “thou art with me” in the valley of shadow. (Kushner, Harold, Who Needs God?, page 175) To trust that the shepherd leads does not mean we will avoid the valley. Bad things do happen to good people, even God’s people, but the good news is that even when we walk through the valley of the shadow, we will fear no evil, for “thou art with me.” So along green pastures and still waters where he restores my soul or down the rough and hard paths of righteousness, even through the valley of the shadow of death, I have a faith that sings. 5. MY CUP OVERFLOWS WITH GOODNESS AND MERCY, AND I WILL DWELL WITH HIM FOREVER Again, from the Eugene Peterson translation: You serve me a six-course dinner right in front of my enemies; you revive my drooping head; my cup brims with blessing. Your beauty and love chase after me every day of my life until I’m back home in the house of God forever. I have been blessed by the lives of wonderful saints in every church I have been privileged to serve. Christine McVannel was one of them. She was a warm, gracious, loving and lovable member of Court Street Church in Flint. Everyone who knew her knew she kept a little brown notebook with her favorite prayers and readings as her constant companion. It was filled with clippings and jotted notes, favorite Bible verses and well-worn poetry. One day she was out on her patio and fell with a broken hip. It was hours later before someone discovered her and called for help. In the hospital, she said, “You know, I didn’t have my notebook with me, but I just kept repeating over and over again, ‘The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.’” When Christine died, there was no question that goodness and mercy had followed her and that the final promise was hers as well—dwelling in the house of the Lord forever. As I get older, there is less and less of which I am certain. But as I get older, I have more and more friends on the other side, and my hope of eternal life becomes more and more precious. The one thing of which I am certain is that the shepherd will lead us all the way, and that in the end we will all come to dwell in the house of the Lord forever. I really should stop quoting old songs from my past—I’ve been doing it every week—but here’s one more, a way to end this series on the Summer Song of the Psalmist. When I was in college, I sang in the Asbury College Men’s Glee Club. We would come into a local church, dressed to the nines in our black tuxes. We thought we were really something. (The sin of pride infects us all!) But I remember our tradition, how we always closed the concert. We would start singing our last song, then begin to make our way back down the aisle, shaking hands as we walked and sang, until we were all gathered in the narthex and the last chorus would gradually fade away. And the song we sang as our final song was the final song of the psalmist, as well:
My Lord, I’m on my journey, The shepherd leads… Through green pastures and by still waters, Sabbath times, where the Shepherd restores my soul. He leads me down the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Even when I walk through valleys of shadow, I won’t fear because this faithful Shepherd goes with me. My cup overflows with goodness and mercy. And I can sing all the way home until we dwell in God’s house forever.
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