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March 26/27, 2016
Jason Meyer | Psalms 23:1-6
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 paths of righteousness
for his name's sake.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow 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 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
forever.—Psalm 23
Psalm 23 is the best-known and best-loved poem in all of history. But it has so much more to offer you this Easter weekend than inspiring lyrics. In fact, I am troubled at the casual way that people try to hijack Psalm 23 and claim it as their own.
Let me illustrate what I mean. Robert Morgan tells the story of an actor that recited Psalm 23 at a social gathering in London. He quoted the poem with pauses, inflections, and a voice quality that was the envy of other professional actors. There was a murmur of admiration that ran through the crowd when he finished his recitation.
To everyone’s surprise an aged minister spontaneously stood up and rose to recite the same passage. But when he finished, all eyes in the crowd were filled with tears. Later the actor approached the aged minister and wisely said, “Do you know the difference between my recitation and yours? I know the psalm, but you know the Shepherd” (Robert Morgan, The Lord is My Shepherd, p. 191).
My prayer is that by knowing the psalm today, you will come to know the Shepherd of the psalm.
Main Point: Because the Lord is my Shepherd, I have everything I need.
Verse 1 gives that main point and verses two through six spell it out more fully. Look why I have no need—because of all that my Shepherd supplies in verses 2-6.
1. Because the Lord Is My Shepherd (v. 1)
2. I Have Everything I Need (vv. 1–6)
The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
That first phrase “The Lord is my shepherd” helps us see both the Lord and ourselves in relationship to him. First, look at who we are. This seems like an inspiring picture (sheep with a shepherd), but it is definitely not a flattering picture. If the Lord is a Shepherd, then that makes us sheep. Sheep are cute and wooly, but they are a mess without a shepherd. In many ways, they are the most defenseless and helpless animals on the planet if they lack a shepherd.
Robert J. Morgan made a good point about the animal kingdom that I will paraphrase here. You can watch dogs travel in packs and can hunt for food and find their way back home when they get lost. Cats can climb trees and stalk and pounce for food and they can get by on their own. Horses can do just fine in the wild—they are downright noble as they thunder across the plains in a wild and free herd. The forests and jungles of the world are filled with animals that do well in the wild without humans. Sheep are pathetic without a shepherd. No one ever hears of sheep migrating along in great flocks, fending for themselves. They panic at the slightest sound, they have no sense of direction and almost no way to defend themselves.
They can’t run away easily because they are bulky and bungling, they can’t dig holes or climb trees, they can’t track down their own food, they can even get lost in their own pasture. Their wool can keep them warm in the winter, but it can trap them in thorns and their wool becomes a liability in the summer unless they are sheared. They are vulnerable to insects, dry spells, predators, injury, and even getting turned upside down.
They become silent as death when danger comes upon them. Sheep don’t cry out when the predators attack. I read a story of sheep ranchers sleeping in their trucks and they woke up in the morning and wild dogs had slaughtered 120 sheep by just going for the throat—the sheep didn’t make any noise—they were silent when attacked. Other animals make a lot of noise when a predator is on the loose—think about how loud monkeys are.
So Psalm 23 definitely does not flatter us when we are pictured as sheep. The only reason it does not depress us is it portrays the Sovereign Lord as our shepherd.
Second, look at who the Lord is. The Lord is My Shepherd. This is the most amazing part of the whole Psalm to me in many ways. I am not surprised that the Lord can be a shepherd; I am surprised that the Lord wants to be a Shepherd. The Almighty, infinitely exalted—high and mighty Lord of the universe wants to come and constantly care for and watch over sheep—that is amazing. The Lord works for those who wait for him—He is not served by human hands as though he needed anything—He gives to all people life and breath and everything else. Because sheep are almost completely dependent, their continued existence depends entirely on the ability of the Shepherd. If the Lord is my Shepherd, I am in good hands indeed. None can snatch us away. The rest of the Psalm will now expound upon what we have because we have the Lord as Shepherd.
The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
Verse one states it as a negation—“I shall not want.” In other words, the verse says, “I lack nothing that I need.” It certainly does not mean that I have everything that I could ever want and it doesn’t mean I have everything I need when I think I need it. He gives me what I need when he knows that I need it. “I have everything I need.”
This is an amazing statement because sheep are so profoundly needy. We can expand upon this statement by looking in seven different directions. What is (1) beneath me, (2) beside me, (3) within me, (4) ahead of me, (5) for me, (6) behind me, and (7) forever before me.
He makes me lie down in green pastures.
Food is obviously an important provision. Sheep only lie down after they are well fed. They always eat standing on all fours. When they have eaten their fill of the refreshing grass with the morning dew, then they will lie down and chew the cud (I won’t explain this process in detail so that you still have an appetite for your Easter dinner). They lie down when they are well fed and feel safe. They will shoot right back up if they sense danger.
He leads me beside still waters.
This provision of water is important as well. It is good that these are still waters and not rushing waters because sheep do not swim well—imagine trying to swim with a wool winter coat. That won’t work.
He restores my soul.
One of the oddest things about sheep is how easily they can get turned upside down. This fact used to make me laugh … a little. It is actually dangerous. Here is what happens. A sheep will lay down in a little depression and then depending upon the slope or incline of the ground it can easily shift too much to one side and then its feet no longer touch the ground. Because it is weighted down by its wool, the creature will struggle to right itself which typically makes matters worse. It really is not funny, but tragic to see a cast-down sheep—its legs flailing in the air—because gases are building up in the rumen and blood circulation is draining away from its extremities. Its vulnerable to everything—especially attack.
A cast sheep can perish in a matter of hours unless the shepherd spots its predicament and “restores” it—turns it upright. An old shepherd saying holds true: a down sheep is a dead sheep (modified from Robert Morgan, p. 70).
Commentators now believe that David was talking about this very problem in verse 3: “He restores my soul.” It is surprisingly easy for us to have sin turn our lives upside down. It is amazing how many different ways this can happen. We believe the deceitful promises of sin and we end up making a mess of our lives. There we are in the mud of sin—stuck and upside down and we can’t pick ourselves up and turn ourselves upright. We need a shepherd to come and pick us up and set us upright and on a straight path.
He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
Sheep are very directionally challenged. They get lost so easily. They need a shepherd to lead them in the right paths. The good news of this passage is that our Shepherd guides us not because we earn it or deserve it, but for the sake of his name. He wants everyone to know that he is a good, wise, and righteous shepherd.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.
Look now “around me.” You are very aware of all the dangers and darkness, but there is no fear because after looking “around me,” he says I will not fear for you are “with me.”
Many commentators think David has in mind the Wadi Kelt. It was a deep valley near Bethlehem—David probably led his sheep through this valley many times taking them from Bethlehem down to the pasturelands of the Jordan Valley during the winter and early spring months. The city of Jericho was at the eastern end of the Wadi and it is a desert oasis—well wanted in the winter and spring.
In Jesus’ day this very wadi became known as the Way of Blood (or the Bloody Pass) because of the treachery of bandits and wild animals. This was the pass that Jesus spoke about in the Parable of the Good Samaritan when the man was travelling from Jericho to Jerusalem and was robbed and beaten in Luke 10.
Three things are really, really profound about this verse. The first is that we don’t stay in the dark valley—he leads us through it. A pass by very definition is not where people live. It is a temporary dark turn, but it is the right path. The second is that we face the shadow of death, not death itself. The third is what exactly it is that overcomes fear: God’s presence. This is profound because you see this even with kids. They are not really afraid of the dark—they are really afraid of being alone—the darkness just brings out this fear even more because they are extra aware of being alone. If the parent comes and snuggles with them, then they feel safe—even though it is still dark.
The Psalm gives extra emphasis upon this reality. Everything has been third person up to this point—he makes me lie down, he leads me, he restores my soul—You are with me. This is so direct and personal as we face the shadows.
The sheep are comforted as they turn their gaze away from the dangers and the darkness to the Shepherd. He had a rod as a protection for predators and a staff as a protection for themselves slipping or going the wrong way.
This promise is even more precious to us as we look away from the dangers to our Shepherd because he has far more than a rod and a staff. Jesus himself walked this road on the way to Jericho to Jerusalem in Matthew 20–21 as he set his face like flint to go to the cross. There he met death face to face. Death crushed Jesus as the sacrificial Lamb at the cross, but Jesus devoured death as the Lion King at the resurrection. And the resurrected Jesus—the Great Shepherd of the sheep—promised to be with us always.
The empty tomb testifies that death is a defeated foe, and so we need to speak gospel truth to our fears when we come to the valley of death’s shadow. We face not death, but death’s shadow. I am reminded of how the great preacher Donald Grey Barnhouse explained death to his daughter:
Barnhouse’s wife had died, and he had to help his daughter and himself process the pain of death. They were driving one day, and a large moving truck passed them. The dark shadow of the truck passed over them. Here is what Barnhouse said,
“Would you rather be run over by a truck, or by its shadow?” His daughter replied, “By the shadow of course. That can’t hurt us at all.” Dr. Barnhouse replied, “Right. If the truck doesn’t hit you, but only its shadow, then you are fine. Well, it was only the shadow of death that went over your mother. She’s actually alive—more alive than we are. And that’s because two thousand years ago, the real truck of death hit Jesus. And because death crushed Jesus, and we believe in him, now the only thing that can come over us is the shadow of death, and the shadow of death is but my entrance into glory.” (Quoted by Timothy Keller, Walking With God Through Pain and Suffering, p. 317).
“My king has crushed the curse of death, and I am his forever.”
Students of the Bible go two different ways at verse 5. Some see this verse as the continuation of the journey from Bethlehem to Jericho and now the provision of a tableland. Here the shepherd would have already prepared a plateau for the sheep to graze upon and would have put oil or ointment upon them to protect them from the insects that chew on their ears or go up their nose.
Others say that the metaphor changes to a host. The host would welcome people and show hospitality with a meal on the table, oil on the head, and a full cup of wine.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.—Psalm 23:5
I lean more towards seeing the shift of metaphor towards a host. Here David still has confidence when in hostile enemy territory because the custom was that a host would pledge to protect his guest from his enemies. David knows that the Lord has covenanted to protect him. That leads us to the next direction to look.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.
The Lord’s loyal, covenant love (the word for “goodness”) is pursuing him. Those who know this Lord don’t need to look behind them for fear that disaster is nipping at their heels as they await the next bad thing. This verse says that goodness and mercy are in hot pursuit. It does not say that goodness and mercy will follow me once and a while or now and then, sometimes, most of the time—“all of the days of my life.”
… and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever.
In many ways, this is the most wonderful promise of all. A time is coming when there will be no more dangers, predators, enemies, drought, scorching heat, losing our way. We will be at home.
I love how clarifying this is. The host imagery could give the impression that we are a temporary guest and the Lord is a temporary host. Far from it. As the song says:
Here would I find a settled rest,
While others go and come;
No more a stranger, nor a guest,
But like a child at home.
Revelation 5 describes this heavenly home and this Shepherd. He will be our Shepherd even in Heaven’s pastures and springs of living water. They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.
They shall hunger no more, neither thirst anymore;
the sun shall not strike them,
nor any scorching heat.
For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd,
and he will guide them to springs of living water,
and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.—Revelation 5:16–17
Conclusion
I was moved by a story that ran throughout Robert Morgan’s book (The Lord is My Shepherd). He spoke of how his kids really wanted horses, but they decided to compromise by getting four sheep. His girls loved the little lambs and they took great delight at how calming it was to wake up and have a cup of coffee and see the sheep grazing in their backyard of their country home.
The sheep got older and his girls grew up and went away to college and pretty soon there was only one sheep left. Listen to him tell the story:
“One winter at our house, our shepherding duties drew to a close. Our little flock had died off from old age, one by one, until only Lucy was left. She’d been bottle-fed as a lamb, had frolicked as a youngling, and enjoyed a lifetime of safe grazing and frequent fellowship in the back pasture. But our daughters had grown up and moved away. Lucy had become my responsibility, and I fretted at her increasing feebleness and frailty.
Every day I’d try to go down to the field, feed her oats out of my hand, tickle and rub her ears, and replenish her water. We became attached; and when she grew ill, I was nearly as troubled as if she were a person. Her wool became thin as a threadbare coat, and I worried about her getting cold on frosty nights. She didn’t want to stay in the little barn, so I made her a warm place among the hay bales. One evening in early January, the temperatures plunged. I tried to keep Lucy warm with blankets and hay. But the next morning she had trouble getting on her feet. She lay in her little sheltered bed and looked up at me with apprehension in her nearly sightless eyes.
I called a friend who worked for a veterinarian, and with a livestock stretcher we carried her to the barn. Finding a long power cord, I ran a heater to her stall and kept her covered with blankets. Every day I’d go down to the little barn, sit down beside her, cradle her old wooly head in my lap, and talk to her. She seemed to like that. I tried to get her to eat and drink, but she didn’t want anything. I sang to her (“Savior Like a Shepherd Lead Us”), and I prayed for her and asked the Lord to help her. She seemed comforted by those visits, and I was loath to leave…
Lucy wasn’t able to recover. She was just too old. The day came when I had to depart on an overseas trip, and I asked my son-in-law, Ethan, if he would take care of her. I couldn’t say more than that, but he knew what I meant. He was with her at the end and saw that she was cared for and buried near her erstwhile companions in the pasture that had been her lifelong home (pp. 28–29).
Looking back on the experience, I’m surprised at the grief I felt and still feel. It’s hard to explain the affection between a shepherd and his sheep, but this gave me a glimpse into the depth of the feelings that we share with our God whenever we say “The Lord is my Shepherd.”
Now if I asked you all this question, “do you think Robert Morgan loved that sheep?” No one would have a doubt. Yes, of course. No one would say, “I bet he was so irritated with that sheep because of how much work she was. I bet he was glad she was dead and gone.” No way.
But here is the real surprise. If I asked you today, “Do you think our heavenly Shepherd loves you?” Many of you would hesitate in how to answer that. I want to argue with your unbelief today. You look at how much Robert Morgan did for his sheep and say—of course he loved Lucy. He made a barn and brought water and blankets. I say, “big deal.” That is nothing compared to how our Shepherd made us and every hour of every day gives us life and breath and everything else: water, food, clothes, shelter.
You say, “look at how Robert Morgan loved that sheep even until the end. Constant care—the heater and getting the vet and the livestock stretcher and singing with the sheep.” That is nothing. He loved the sheep but he couldn’t do anything to save the sheep. All he could do was make the sheep comfortable—like sheep hospice while awaiting the time when she would die. In the end—he was even unable to be with the sheep when she died and was buried. The connection between sheep and shepherd was broken at death. He was no longer the shepherd of Lucy.
How much greater the Great Shepherd of the Sheep! He didn’t wait for us to perish and leave us at the last moment as he travelled overseas. Our Great Shepherd travelled to us. He left heaven and came to earth. In the incarnation, he took on our flesh—our “sheepness.” He lived for us—living the perfect life we couldn’t live—in our place. He didn’t wait for us to die—he died for us. He gave his life for the sheep.
Even death cannot end the connection between Shepherd and sheep because the Great Shepherd defeated death—his grip is stronger. He rose again from the dead. So that he would be our Shepherd always—with us always—even at the moment of our death—he is there to take us to be with him forever. How dare you think that a fallen man loves his animal more than our Perfect Savior loves those he died for and rose for and intercedes for and is preparing a place for and is returning for so that we can be with him—he wants us with him. You are wanted, not unwanted. Loved, not unloved. You are pursued, not abandoned.
Don’t think of Christianity as another religion. Religion is all about what man does to pursue God—and he hopes he has done enough to be accepted by God. Christianity is all about what God has done to pursue us—and believing that he—our Savior has done enough to save us. He is stronger. Like the old hymn says, “I need know other argument—I need no other plea. It is enough that Jesus died and that he died for me.” There it is. Banking all of our hope not on anything we have done or will do, but banking all of our hope on what he has done—it is enough.
You can’t confess that the Lord is my Shepherd until you first confess that the Shepherd is my Lord. If you confess with your mouth, Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. You can say, “because the Lord is my shepherd, I have everything that I need—forever.”
Sermon Discussion Questions
Outline
Main Point: Verse one gives the main point and verses two through six explain it more fully. Look why I have no need—because of all that my Shepherd supplies. Because the Lord is my Shepherd, I have everything I need.
The second point shows the glory of our Shepherd, because sheep are so profoundly needy. It call us to look in several directions to see his provision: (1) beneath me (green pastures), (2) beside me (still waters), (3) within me (restored soul), (4) ahead of me (right paths), (5) for me (presence, provision, protection), (6) behind me (goodness and mercy), and (7) forever before me (the house of the Lord).
Discussion Questions
Application Questions
Prayer Focus
Pray for a grace to trust and rest in Christ as our Great Shepherd.