Psalm 23 is one of the most familiar and most memorized pieces of scripture there is. Even those who are only marginally religious and those who avoid religion at all costs generally know at least the first verse when they hear it. Psalm 23 has become so ubiquitous in American culture, it is a piece of literature that can stand apart from its original source. Its phrases are ones that reflect a time of turmoil and trial and bring comfort in the midst of doubt, pain, and shock.
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside still waters. He leads in paths of righteousness for his namesake. Yeah, though I walk through the valley of death, I will 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 cover my head with oil and your cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the years of my life and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”
These words speak of what seems to be lush, full meadows, quiet sources of endless water, and safety in the hands of the shepherd. For many, the images of fields of alfalfa come mind, and the idea of having everything we could ever need to be provided seems promising. Through our modern cultural lens, these verses seem to allude to the idea that if we are truly following the shepherd, then that shepherd will make sure that we want for nothing, that everything we need will be provided, that there will never be a moment of pain, fear, uncertainty, or want.
And yet, how many of us have experienced this utopia of care from the shepherd? Are our lives absolutely perfect and idyllic? How many of us truly believe what the Psalmist writes is true? Are you resting in green pastures? Drinking from still waters? Assured that no harm will befall you right now? If we think about the images we are presented with, contrasted with the reality of our daily lives, we might wonder about the true nature of the shepherd.
And while you are considering the level of truth that the Psalmist provides here, also consider this: In Israel/Palestine and the surrounding areas, there are very few areas of fertile land in which lush green meadows could grow. The Middle East is a desert. When the scriptures speak of the “wilderness” it’s not the wooded forests we imagine. Wilderness there is desolate and dry. And so, in that area of the world, any stretches of land that could be used for farming, without the help of irrigation systems, would be coveted and kept free of roaming crop devourers, namely sheep. The shepherds would not have been allowed to let their sheep wander through these pastures or crop fields and eat freely; no those shepherds would have been ordered to take their sheep out to the rocky hillsides to graze. Only those hillsides were seemingly barren. And we’d be left to wonder, how do you feed a herd on the barren land of the desert? What do they see, what do they know that we don’t? And you would be right in asking those questions because there is something that the shepherds know that we, who are from a different world, don’t. The land that the sheep graze is not completely barren. There are little tufts of green grass along the paths that grow up around the small clusters of rocks. For while this desert is in an arid climate, there is rain that comes to the region, albeit infrequently, and there is humidity in the air that comes off of the Mediterranean Sea, which when the air cools overnight settles to the ground, clinging to those small piles of rocks. As the moisture turns from gas to liquid, it nourishes the ground around those rocks, allowing the small pastures of green to appear. The sheep then feed on these small wisps of food.
You see there is food, just not as obvious as you might hope. The shepherd knows which way to go to make sure that there is enough for the sheep, but the sheep must follow, trusting that the shepherd knows what they are doing. For if the sheep were to go off on their own, they might not find enough of those small green pastures to satisfy their needs, or if they were to stop where they were, they would never know that the shepherd can provide, a little at a time, the nourishment they need to keep on living their lives. It is fundamental that the sheep believe and trust the shepherd.
Our God, who is our shepherd, is the same way, for God provides what we need to get through each day. It may not be the lush field we imagine, where we can gorge ourselves and never move on, but it is enough for today. The question then becomes, do we truly believe that God will do as God says, and lead us to those green pastures and those still waters? Really. Are we looking around at the barren land wondering how we will ever survive? Or are we looking to the shepherd to take us to what is needed….nourishment for today?
Here’s a completely different analogy of trust: “There was a tightrope walker, who did incredible aerial feats. All over Paris, he would do tightrope acts at tremendously scary heights. Then he had succeeding acts; he would do it blindfolded, then he would go across the tightrope, blindfolded, pushing a wheelbarrow. An American promoter read about this in the papers and wrote a letter to the tightrope walker, saying, ‘Tightrope, I don't believe you can do it, but I'm willing to make you an offer. For a very substantial sum of money, besides all your transportation fees, I would like to challenge you to do your act over Niagara Falls.’ Now, Tightrope wrote back, ‘Sir, although I've never been to America and seen the Falls, I'd love to come.’ Well, after a lot of promotion and setting the whole thing up, many people came to see the event. Tightrope was to start on the Canadian side and come to the American side. Drums roll, and he comes across the rope which is suspended over the treacherous part of the falls -- blindfolded!! And he makes it across easily. The crowds go wild, and he comes to the promoter and says, ‘Well, Mr. Promoter, now do you believe I can do it?’ ‘Well of course I do. I mean, I just saw you do it.’ ‘No,’ said Tightrope, ‘do you really believe I can do it?’ ‘Well of course I do, you just did it.’ ‘No, no, no,’ said Tightrope, ‘do you believe I can do it?’ ‘Yes,’ said Mr. Promoter, ‘I believe you can do it.’ ‘Good,’ said Tightrope, ‘then you get in the wheelbarrow (sic).’”
Do we trust enough to go out on that limb….or tightrope? Is our trust one of, “Of course God can do it”? Or is our trust deeper… “of course God can do it for me”?
Do you really believe that the Shepherd will provide those green pastures? Do you trust the heavenly tightrope walker enough to get in the wheelbarrow? Do you fully and honestly believe that God will provide what we need for just today, leaving the worry about tomorrow to tomorrow?
I know this is a tall order, and it was a tall order before this global pandemic that we are all living in; (now it seems to be grande or even venti order for us to consider). How can we begin to trust what will be provided tomorrow, when we don’t even know if we are going to make it through today? How can we trust, and take a risk, when the world might look radically different tomorrow? How can we be sure that wind won’t come up and blow the proverbial tightrope an odd way or that those minimal rains will come? How can we trust that God is still active and working in this world, when nothing else seems to be working?
And in those questions, I believe we find the key. We don’t know what tomorrow will bring, and we don’t know what next week or even next month will bring. Had you asked us all a year ago, we never would have imagined that we would be in the situation we are facing at the moment, but even yet, here we are. We’ve made it through more than 6 months of uncertainty. We may have come with the smallest bit of faith, faith the size of a mustard seed, as Jesus once said, that God would do as God said God would, but because of that faith, we are here. We may not have known the future. We may not have been able to predict and schedule for all the things...or anything for that matter, and yet despite those challenges, despite those uncertainties, we’ve made it through. And if we can make it this far, we can certainly make it further. At least if we keep following the shepherd.
I know there are still lots of unknowns. What will happen a month from now after the election? Or January 1st? When will there be a vaccine? When will our kids be back in school...like they used to be? When will we be at work? Or with family? Or taking trips? When will there be peace in our town? Or healing for our nation? We don’t know. We don’t know the dangers that are before us. We don’t know the challenges. We don’t know what we can’t see and we can’t predict the future. But, at least in staying in the heart of today’s passage, we aren’t asked to. In this passage, for this practice of faith, we are called to trust God. We are called to be one of the flock, yes, to be sheep ;) sheep who know that there is one who loves and cares for us, one who keeps count day and night and seeks us out when we wander off, one who helps us get the sustenance we need for today. And one who is most definitely with us on the journey.
So let us give thanks to God, that we can trust the Shepherd to lead us to those green tufts of nourishment, not only today, but tomorrow, and into the future as well.
Amen.
Core content is written by Rev. Ruth Popkin
shared with permission