A Sunday School teacher decided to have her young class memorize one of the most quoted passages in the Bible - Psalm 23. She gave the youngsters a month to learn the chapter. Little Rick was excited about the task - but he just couldn't remember the Psalm. After much practice, he could barely get past the first line. On the day that the kids were scheduled to recite Psalm 23 in front of the congregation, Ricky was so nervous. When it was his turn, he stepped up to the microphone and said proudly, 'The Lord is my Shepherd, and that's all I need to know.'
After the stern warning of Psalm 95 last week, to repent and strive to enter into Rest, we turn today to one of the most famous and well known passages of scripture. It is also one that has brought comfort to many. We have sung it at weddings and funerals, and to many different tunes. The King of Love my Shepherd truly is.
This psalm is special because it seems rooted in personal experience. We can imagine the boy David sent out to mind his father’s flocks, dreaming of what it might be like to be a sheep cared for by the shepherd. Later as king he was called upon to shepherd his people, and at the same time to sing of his own reliance upon the LORD, Yahweh, who shepherded him. Last week we sang in the Venite that we are his people and the sheep of his flock, and this was a common theme for the people of Israel.
This psalm is special because Jesus described himself in John’s gospel as the Good Shepherd. He is the Bread of Life, the Living Water, the Light of the World, the Door of the Sheepfold, the Resurrection and the Life, the Way, the Truth and the Life, the True Vine. Good Shepherd seems especially appropriate to chapter nine of John. It is primarily about light and truth, and recognising God at work, but Jesus takes special care to identify the man born blind, meet his needs, and care for him; he acts as a good shepherd. This is in contrast to the Pharisees whom he will castigate in the next chapter as hired hands who do not care at all for the sheep in their charge.
So it is a psalm born from human experience. The Lord is my Shepherd. We heard last week that he is the king and creator of all (and this thought is picked up in Psalm 24 immediately following), and this true. He is also one who shepherds us, cares for us, sacrifices for us.
Therefore we can trust him to meet our needs; we will lack nothing.
Therefore we can look to him to give us repose, to lead us to quiet streams where it is easy to drink.
Therefore we will be conscious of him helping us make moral choices and live amended lives for him
Therefore we will know his “footprints” presence with us in good times and bad time even if, like the man born blind, we do not always realise it at the time.
Therefore we will know his protection as we continue to pray “lead us not to the time of trial”, and “deliver us from evil”; shepherds carried cudgels to defend the sheep and long walking sticks to help them get into difficult places to rescue them. David also carried a slingshot.
Therefore we will know his provision for us even when times seem very hard and material resources are scarce. Olive oil was applied to the forehead of sheep to keep the buzzing flies away – we can look for the Lord to give us moments of calm and rest in the middle of the clamour of everyday life.
Therefore we can confidently expect to continue to enjoy his presence. For David this meant time meditating in the temple. For us, we live with God, and we will step seamlessly into the next reality when death takes us; we will dwell in a heavenly home made for us and which Jesus has gone ahead to prepare for us.
Notice that all this is based on “The Lord is my Shepherd”. When Jane and I were on Lindisfarne in February this year, I went for a short walk. A large flock of sheep was in a field, and one of them had strayed up onto the raised path that I was following. As I approached, but was still some distance away, the lone sheep turned and ran for it. The other sheep nearby also started to run, and soon the whole flock were off, chasing across the island. Sheep who had no idea that I existed found themselves running, but they did not know why; I was too far away for them to see.
We do not say “The Lord is our Shepherd”. This is true in one sense, but we need to remember that we are not members of a flock who mindlessly follow each other. We are each called by name by the Shepherd. Jesus is looking for a personal encounter with you. If you see yourself primarily as a member of this church community, and you are looking for us to meet your needs, shelter you, be all that you need, then I fear that you will be greatly disappointed. We are all sinful folk who are receiving forgiveness and being transformed by the work of the Spirit of Jesus. Try as we might to live well, we let each other down. People who do not have a real relationship with Jesus find it hard to stay here; you need God’s help to be a member of the church. You must have that personal, one to one relationship with Jesus, because he is the one who personally promises to give us that living water, that eternal life, that personal care from the Shepherd.
This is a story that I heard years ago and I am sure exists in many versions. I am glad that I have found it at last on the internet, and I share it with you now.
It was about 1850, March, snow flurries, frozen ground, a log cabin, and in that little log cabin on the prairie was a boy by the name of Timmy, who was dying of diphtheria. The pastor who came to that log cabin that day was a Methodist circuit rider; that is, he rode his horse hundreds of miles to cabins and churches, visiting them every two months or so. This pastor came into the cabin and inquired about Timmy, whom he had heard was sick. The pastor was ushered through an opening in the curtain to a back room where Timmy was sick in bed.
The pastor said, “Timmy, do you know how to say the 23rd psalm?” “O yes, I learned it when I was in second grade, in Sunday School. It goes like this. The Lord is my shepherd I shall not want.” Timmy rattled the 23rd psalm off rapidly. “No Timmy, that is not the way to say it.” “Ok, pastor, I will say it more slowly.” “Timmy,” the pastor said, “I want to teach you how to say the 23rd psalm. As you begin the first sentence, you count your fingers and when you get to the fourth word, the word, “my,” you grab that finger. A wedding ring is one the fourth finger of your mother’s and father’s hand. It is the finger of love. Say the words of the first sentence as you count your fingers, and then grab the fourth finger when you say the word, my. That will remind you that Jesus is always your personal shepherd, my personal shepherd. OK?” So Timmy practiced saying the first sentence of the psalm. The pastor was satisfied. They said their goodbyes and the pastor left.
The pastor returned to the log cab two months later and it was now spring. The snow was gone and as he approached the log cabin, he saw a little mound of dirt near the cabin with a cross on it. He knew Timmy had died. The pastor went into the log cabin and they talked. They talked about Timmy; they talked about his death; and finally the mother asked. “You know pastor, something strange happened when Timmy died. We kissed him goodnight. In the morning, first thing, we went through the curtain to see him and he was gone; he had died. But it was so strange. His right hand was still wrapped around the ring finger of his left hand. Do you know what that means, pastor?”
Discussion Starters
1. Which psalm is most special to you, and why?
2. What parallels can we draw between the images of the shepherd and sheep in Psalm 23 and life events in our own lives so far?
3. How do we each respond to the idea that we need a personal relationship with Jesus? (See John 10:14-15)
4. Who would like prayer for grace to know more certainly Jesus as our individual Shepherd?
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