Another Look
a sermon based on Psalm 23
by Rev. Cindy Weber

(This sermon borrows from Walter Brueggemann’s sermon: “Trusting in the Water-Oil-Food Supply” from The Threat of Life, pp.90-96.)

I heard a story once about these prisoners who had been together so long that whenever they told jokes, instead of actually telling the whole joke, they would just call out the number of the joke, and everyone would crack up. One day a new guy came in, and experienced this for the first time. One of the inmates said, “Joke number 3,” and everyone just laughed and laughed. Then another one of them said, “Joke number 12,” and that one was even funnier, evidently, because they laughed until they cried. Then another one of them said, “Joke number 9,” but this time no one laughed at all, not one bit. The new guy said, “What happened? Why didn’t anyone laugh?” One of the other prisoners replied, “Aw, that guy never could tell a joke.”

For those of us who have been brought up in the church, we could probably, like those prisoners, instead of actually reading scripture, or quoting scripture, just say the book, chapter and verse, and the others of us would be able to respond accordingly. For example, if I said to you, “John 3:16,” you would know what I meant. Or if I said, “Genesis 1:1,” you’d know that, too. But perhaps the one that you would be able to respond to best of all is Psalm 23, or as we usually call it, The 23rd Psalm.

I recently read a sermon of Walter Brueggemann’s based on this psalm, and with some of that in mind, I’d like to walk us through this beloved Psalm, or poem, because that’s what a psalm is, this morning.

“The Lord is my shepherd,” begins the Psalmist. Perhaps one of the reasons that we love this Psalm so much is that it begins and ends with the Lord…The Lord, or Yahweh, which Brueggemann uses, and which I like because it connects us to the God of the Israelites, to the God of Moses, I Am Who I Am…Yahweh…Yahweh is my shepherd.

There’s a painting that Robert and I have in our house of green hills, a stream, some sheep. It is a peaceful scene, somewhere that I’d often like to be. And that’s probably what comes to most of our minds when we hear the first line of this Psalm. But Brueggemann points out that in the Bible, the word “shepherd” is a political one. “It means king, sovereign, lord, authority, the one who directs, to whom I am answerable, whom I trust and serve.” And so this psalm begins, not with some warm and fuzzy statement, but rather with a very strong, very clear statement of allegiance.

Yahweh is my God. Yahweh is my sovereign, my lord, my authority, the one who directs my life, the one to whom I am answerable, the one whom I trust and serve. Not culture, not country, not family, not career, not material possessions, not image, but Yahweh is the one whom I serve, the one to whom I am answerable, Yahweh is my shepherd, Yahweh and no other…

The Psalmist then goes on to make a wonderful statement based upon what he’s just said. Because Yahweh is my shepherd, I shall not want. Because Yahweh is the one whom I trust and serve, “I shall not lack anything. I shall not have any other yearnings or desires that fall outside the gifts of God. What God gives will be enough for me,” says Brueggemann.

Now notice that there are two things happening here. First of all, this is a statement of trust and faith in the generosity and faithfulness of God. God will give me what I need. And that’s what we usually focus on when we read this psalm.

But just as importantly, this is a statement of decision on the part of the Psalmist. I shall not want. It’s a decision that runs smack dab, head on into the patterns of our culture. As hard as we tried to fight consumerism this Christmas, it still snuck up on us, didn’t it? We still spent more time than we wanted to in thinking about what we were going to buy, we still spent more money than we wanted to on stuff that we and the recipients of our giving did not need.

“I shall not want,” says Brueggemann, “is a decision made against the greed and lust and satiation and aggressive ambition of a consumer society. Our consumer society is drive by the notion that we always must want one more thing, and we are entitled to it, and we will have it no matter what.”

“I shall not want” is a counter-cultural statement. “I refuse to go along with you people who are trying to grab hold of my pocketbook and my heart. I refuse to be coerced by this culture of greed and lust and satiation. I shall not want.”

In December, Jesse, who is four years old, asked me what Santa Claus was going to bring him for Christmas. “What do you want?” I asked. “I want what Santa brings me!” he said. What a neat attitude. I want what God gives me, and nothing more…

I wonder if we might also apply this to us as a church. I don’t know about you, but I often think about what we don’t have. Our Children’s Minister, Peggy, went to a workshop the other day, and learned that to be a really good children’s minister, that what she needs to do is to spend about $4,000 decorating every children’s room in a Bible theme. They talked about churches that have rooms with actual arks that the children can play in, and mountains that the children can climb. Peggy was saying, “But what about if you’ve only got three rooms, and they’re only ten by ten?”

Because God is our shepherd, we shall not want. We trust that God will give us what we need, and we will be satisfied with what God gives.

The Psalmist then goes on to share two images so that we can see what this means. The first image is similar to the painting that Robert and I have in our house.

In this image, we are sheep, and God is our shepherd. And this is what God does for us, this is what God as shepherd does for God’s sheep: God leads us to green pastures, God leads us to the places where we can find what we need, to the places where we will not go hungry. God leads us to still waters, to safe waters where we can drink without getting bowled over and half-drowned, where we can be refreshed, renewed. God leads us to paths of righteousness, paths that are straight and safe, paths that are good for us.

Notice that the emphasis here is not on the sheep, but rather on the shepherd. Brueggemann, again, says, “All the verbs of action are for the shepherd. The sheep have no verbs. The sheep do nothing. The sheep waits and receives and enjoys the gift.”

The second image is the image of a traveler going through dangerous territory. To envision this image, we might want to think back to some of those sermons that we’ve heard about the story of the Good Samaritan. You remember how the preachers would describe that dangerous road to Jericho where robbers lurked behind every bend, how rocky the path was, and how treacherous? “Even though I walk through the darkest valley,” says the psalmist…

Perhaps one of the reasons that we love this Psalm so much is that’s it’s so honest here. In fact, I don’t know that it would be so beloved if it stopped with the green pastures image. Bruce Cockburn sings a song about how God has led him through some strange waters. And though we find rest in just thinking about those green pastures and those still waters, we don’t often find ourselves there. But this second image rings true with so much of our experience. In this image, it doesn’t say that God will keep us out of the dark valleys, it doesn’t say that God will keep us away from difficulty and danger, it says that God is with us in difficulty and danger. “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.”

“The poet,” says Brueggemann, “has discovered that things on the journey are not as they seem when God is present. We are safer, more cared for, than we imagined. It is the presence of God that transforms dangerous places and tough circumstances.”

“We are safer, more cared for, than we imagined.” And not only are we comforted by the presence of God, we are surprised with the lavishness of the love that God bestows upon us. There we are, in the middle of a dark valley, somewhere that we do not want to be, frightened and scared and hungry and wondering if we’re ever going to make it home, and we turn a corner, and there it is: a table set just for us, with all of the things that we need, a table set just for us by God. And not just a table set for us, but a table set for us in the presence of our enemies. God saying, “Look, you bad guys, I love her. Look, you bad guys, I love him. This is my child! Now all of you, let’s sit down together and eat.” And we do, and we know that we are home. And it doesn’t even stop there – no, after we’ve eaten till we’re full, Yahweh anoints our head with oil, soothes us, cleanses us, fills our cup to overflowing, gives us way, way more than what we need.

It is no wonder that the psalmist, so satiated, so lavishly loved, ends the poem with two affirmations. The first affirmation is “that surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.” Because “follow” is a strong verb here, the word, “pursue” might be a better fit. Surely goodness and mercy will pursue me, or in Brueggemann’s words, “God’s friendliness and kindness will run after me and chase me down, grab me and hold me.”

I heard a really neat benediction once where Nancy Sehested said something like, “May the Spirit of God sneak up on you from behind!” Sometimes that’s just about the only way that God can get to us. And the psalmist seems sure that God will.

The second affirmation is that “I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long.” Because Yahweh is my shepherd, because my life and my allegiance belongs to Yahweh, I know that wherever, however, I find myself, I am in Yahweh’s realm, in Yahweh’s world, in Yahweh’s house. I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever. And that is where this beloved poem ends, in the house of the Lord. We might think of that as church, or as those times when we are in communion with God. Or we might listen to those last words, “my whole life long, I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long,” and realize that whether we’re in church or walking down the street, whether we’re in prayer or fast asleep, whether we’re in the middle of a tirade or an argument, or a hospital waiting room, in other words, that no matter where or what we’re doing, that we are in the house of the Lord.

May Yahweh truly be our shepherd. May our allegiance and love be to Yahweh, first and foremost, to Yahweh. Amen.