Leading Us Home | Psalm 23
Please turn in your Bibles to Psalm 23.
I think one could be hard-pressed to find a more recognizable passage of Scripture than Psalm 23. Certainly, there are plenty of “go-to” verses throughout the Bible (John 3:16, Romans 8:28, Jeremiah 29:11), but it seems like Psalm 23 has found a diffusion even in popular culture. Whether it's soldiers on the verge of or in the middle of battle muttering these famous words to themselves to steel themselves, or in horror films where the protagonist is seeking some sort of comfort from the unseen evil, this psalm seems to be the first on the list to provide comfort.
Of course, Psalm 23 is also widespread in its popularity among Christians. I remember this being the very first psalm I ever memorized in Mr. Fopma’s Sunday school class. This is a go-to verse to be put on the tombstone of saints who have gone to be with Jesus. Time and time again, people, but especially Christians, have retreated to this safe harbor for sustaining comfort.
So, a good question would be, “what is it about Psalm 23 that makes it so ubiquitous that even the unbelieving world does not shy away from retreating to it?” One of the enduring attributes of the Psalms, in general, is that when one reads them, we can identify with the psalmists; with their emotions, their anger, their grief, their suffering, their joy, their praise. In short, to read the Psalms is to feel at home. Psalm 23 is a prime example. There is an intrinsic comfort in this psalm…a sense of intimacy pervades it; the sense of being known, even in the worst of circumstances. What has given this Psalm a unique place amongst mankind throughout all of history? It is the aroma of care, comfort, and confidence that we are not on our own, but are being led, cared for, protected, nourished, and sustained by a good Shepherd.
Few have or could sum it better than commentator Derek Kidner:
“Depth and strength underlie the simplicity of this psalm. Its peace is not escape; its contentment is not complacency: there is readiness to face deep darkness and imminent attack, and the climax reveals a love which homes towards no material goal but to the Lord himself.”
So, let us turn our attention to this great psalm. I’m sure I could ask any number of you to come and recite it for us, but let us stand out of reference for God’s word and read Psalm 23.
“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 is a Psalm about shepherds and sheep, kings and their enemies…it is about broad fields and quiet streams, and about dark valleys marked with the stench of death and decay…and it is written by a man who had experienced all of these things. David was a shepherd, he had fought off bears and lions in the hills of the Judean Wilderness, and had led and fed his flock.
And David had been a king, anointed by Samuel himself, defeated the enemies of the Lord, and hosted great banquets. David had even sat in the house of the Lord, the Tabernacle, and sought the Lord for forgiveness and for thanksgiving. It could be, and has been, endlessly debated what the occasion was for David to write this particular Psalm: was he in the midst of battle, had his son Absalom conspired against him, was he hiding in the wilderness while fleeing from the murderous Saul, or was he in a state of peace and contentment. The ambiguity is telling and informative. The circumstance is not vital, because the truths of this psalm are true regardless of the circumstance. This psalm is an allegory for David’s life, and for the whole of the Christian life. And here is what I believe David means to communicate to himself, and to us, in Psalm 23:
In every circumstance, the Lord shepherds those who trust him, giving us the confidence to rest in him.
As we follow David through Psalm 23, we will see that the Lord cares for and shepherds his flock in specific ways: he leads and feeds, he comforts and protects, and he welcomes and sustains.
Leads and Feeds
Psalm 23 is traditionally categorized with the group of psalms that are called “songs of confidence”. The iconic opening lines of this psalm set that tone of confidence and guide the trajectory of the rest of the psalm. David begins with an audacious assertion. “The LORD is my shepherd. I shall not want.” The LORD, all caps, the personal covenant name for God is the first word spoken, given primacy over all. This is the same God that created the universe, spoke it into existence, upholds every atom by his powerful word, and the same God that revealed himself to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and to Moses, and who with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm delivered Israel out of the hand of slavery, who led with cloud by day and fire by night, who conquered the promised land for the people…this is the God that David declare is my shepherd.
There are few more intimate metaphors than that of a shepherd. A shepherd is not distant, aloof, far off, but is near, lives with his flock to guide, protect, and care for. David is declaring here at the very beginning the incredible reality that the Lord God is near. He is near to us. It is not good news if God is just a shepherd. It is the best news of all if the Lord is MY shepherd. There is an ownership, a sense of belonging that David clings to. It is foremost in his mind as he thinks of the nearness of the Lord. He is MY shepherd.
And it is precisely because the LORD is David’s shepherd that the next sentence just makes sense: “I shall not want.” A shepherd provides for his sheep. He does not withhold from them that which they need. He leads them to wherever they need to be to receive whatever they need to receive.
And how does the Lord provide in such a way that we have no want? By leading and feeding his flock. He brings us to green pastures where he makes us lie down and rest beside quiet waters. Why quiet waters? Sheep need water. And raging waters could endanger sheep by pulling them under while they try to drink. But the water the Lord leads to us is quiet, still, safe, and restorative. The shepherd is not some hired hand, being forced to keep these dumb sheep alive, but the Lord thinks and observes for the good of his sheep. Derek Kidner again puts it well when he says:
“God would not have taken on a flock, a family, if he had not intended that he and they should be bound up with one another.”
The metaphor of shepherd is the primary metaphor in the bible for leaders, particularly those in spiritual authority. Kings, priests, elders, and pastors are all given this title. Listen to how the prophet Ezekiel describes the failure of the shepherds of Israel towards the end of their tragic history of the monarchy before the exile in Ezekiel 34:2-6.
“Thus says the Lord GOD: Ah, shepherds of Israel who have been feeding yourselves! Should not shepherds feed the sheep? 3 You eat the fat, you clothe yourselves with the wool, you slaughter the fat ones, but you do not feed the sheep. 4 The weak you have not strengthened, the sick you have not healed, the injured you have not bound up, the strayed you have not brought back, the lost you have not sought, and with force and harshness, you have ruled them. 5 So they were scattered because there was no shepherd, and they became food for all the wild beasts. My sheep were scattered; 6 they wandered over all the mountains and on every high hill. My sheep were scattered over all the face of the earth, with none to search or seek for them.”
According to Ezekiel, and what would be abundantly clear to David as a former shepherd, was that the role of the shepherd was to feed, clothe, strengthen, heal, and bring back the lost sheep, and they were to do all this with care and kindness. But they refused. They abandoned the post. They exploited the sheep for their own purposes. They didn’t feed the sheep; they starved them, and gorged themselves on the excess.
Hear now how Ezekiel records the Lord's solution to the failure of the shepherds of Israel in Ezekiel 34:11-16.
“For thus says the Lord GOD: Behold, I, I myself will search for my sheep and will seek them out. As a shepherd seeks out his flock when he is among his sheep that have been scattered, so will I seek out my sheep, and I will rescue them from all places where they have been scattered on a day of clouds and thick darkness. And I will bring them out from the peoples and gather them from the countries and will bring them into their own land. And I will feed them on the mountains of Israel, by the ravines, and in all the inhabited places of the country. I will feed them with good pasture, and on the mountain heights of Israel shall be their grazing land. There they shall lie down in good grazing land, and on rich pasture, they shall feed on the mountains of Israel. I myself will be the shepherd of my sheep, and I myself will make them lie down, declares the Lord GOD. I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the injured, and I will strengthen the weak, and the fat and the strong I will destroy. I will feed them in justice.”
Ezekiel’s audience would have recognized, as I’m sure you do, all the references to Psalm 23 embedded in that prophecy. All the shepherds have failed; David had failed. The leaders of Israel and Judah had failed. We have failed. But the Lord has not and will not fail to shepherd his people.
It is difficult to read and hear of the Lord becoming the shepherd of his people without being reminded of that great statement from the lips of Jesus in John 10:11:
“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.”
Just as the Lord was the shepherd to David, now, in and through Christ, we also have a good shepherd. If you belong to Christ, through union with his death and resurrection, then you belong to his flock. You who were once far off, alienated from Christ, lost wandering the hills, you have been brought near by the very blood of Christ. Because the good shepherd loves you, he laid his life down for you, to bring you back. And the very thing that he now gives you to feed on is the bread of life, Christ and his word. Whoever eats of this bread will never go hungry again. The shepherd feeds his sheep.
The Lord is the one who provides nourishment to his flock. He leads them, feeds them, and ultimately restores them. This restoration is not just physical (the effect of drinking water when you're thirsty or eating when you’re hungry), but spiritual. The type of restoration that David and we experience is one of the soul. Because the Lord is our shepherd, he knows our needs extend far beyond water and food. Our malnourishment is soul-deep. It will take the death of the shepherd to bring us back to these fields that David is describing. The bread of life must be broken. The restoration of our souls requires nothing less than the life of the Good Shepherd himself.
Maybe you’ve experienced a season, maybe you are experiencing a season right now, where you have a hard time believing that the Lord is your shepherd. And, well, even if he is my shepherd, he’s not a very good one. Where is he leading me? How could this be for my good? My life looks nothing like what I thought it would be, and it certainly doesn’t look like the Shire-esque picture of green pastures and still waters that David describes. Look at v. 3 with me. The road that the shepherd leads, David calls “paths of righteousness”. When being led by this shepherd, there are no wrong turns. All of the paths that the Lord brings us on are ultimately for his name’s sake, or better, for his glory!
This is the OT version of Romans 8:28. All things must work out for the good of those who love God, and all paths are called righteous when they bring glory to the one leading. So take heart, weary Christian, you have not been betrayed. You have not been misled. This is the bedrock of David’s and all of our confidence and hope. Because of God, in Christ Jesus, all things must be for our ultimate good. Even if that road seems dark, it is still the path of righteousness.
And almost as a response to our doubts, David changes the scene.
Comforts and Protects
The imagery in the psalm pivots from the lush, open grazing fields to the rocky, desolate, crags in the valley. And this isn’t just any valley. David calls it the “valley of the shadow of death”. Other translations of the Hebrew word here for “shadow of death” are “deep darkness”, “deathly darkness”, or most ominously “darkness of death”. Whatever the translation, the mood is clear: this is a scene and a place of unknown terrors and danger.
Normally, a shepherd wouldn't put his flock in such danger. However, the scene David depicts has an inevitability to it. There is no indication that this path through the shadowed valley is NOT one of the paths mentioned above; the paths of righteousness. The opening phrase is not “if I ever (although I hope I don’t)” and it’s not “even IF”...but rather “even though”. David’s assumption is that he will walk through that valley of the shadow of death. And so will we.
As mentioned earlier, part of the beauty of the psalms is that it is not hard to locate ourselves in them. And certainly, I’m sure we can all relate to the experience of walking through the valley of the shadow of death. This valley takes on enumerable forms. Last summer, as we were preparing to move to Louisville for the Pastors College, I remember reading CJ Mahaney's book called “Humility”. In that book, he describes the inevitability of suffering. He says, “If you haven’t experienced a season of intense or prolonged suffering, you simply have not lived long enough.” There was me, 29 years old, having not really experienced the type of suffering he describes.
A few days later, I received a call from my dad at the very end of the night informing me that my uncle had been tragically killed in a bicycle accident. Very little information, just news, traumatic news. That’s the valley.
Maybe you’ve received a call like that. And felt the ongoing effect of it; that wherever I now see an unexpected call from a family member late at night, my heart skips a beat, steeling myself for more bad news. Or maybe you’ve received a call from a doctor, asking you to come in for more testing. And you’ve waited, hoping that it’s good news and that the tests have come back normal. Or maybe you’ve sat in the hospital, waiting for the doctor to come and tell you what you already knew from the ultrasound room…there is no heartbeat. Countless more situations. Countless more valleys that the Lord our shepherd has called us to walk through.
But David, who walked through plenty of valleys himself, declares that he simply will not fear. Why? The Shepherd not only walks before him, leading him through but beside him, giving him comfort and peace. Notice the change in how David addresses the Lord in v. 4. The 3rd person address (he) is replaced with the direct 2nd person (you). “You are with me.” The nearness of the Lord somehow gets closer and even more intimate.
How can he be with us in this valley? Because our Good Shepherd has walked that path already. The suffering of Christ on the cross in our place has qualified him to accompany us as we plod through the valleys of death. Through his death and resurrection, we have a great high priest who is able to walk with us. There is no other companion worthy enough or strong enough to accompany us through the deepest of valleys. Even in the midst of the most traumatic and dark circumstances, we are not alone. It is the very presence of the Lord that makes all the difference. It is the presence of the Lord that takes the fangs out of the fear of the valley of death. “Death, where is your victory? Where is your sting now?” The presence of Christ makes all the difference. We are not alone. What comfort!
And this companion is not simply there with a hand on our shoulder, whispering to us that it’ll all be ok. He is armed. The very tools of the shepherd, the rod and the staff, bring both comfort and protection. The tools used to gently guide the sheep, turn into weapons of defense against any adversary.
But a question remains: even if the paths of righteousness lead through open fields and valleys of death…where is the path going? Where is the shepherd leading us? The answer: home.
Welcomes and Sustains
“In verse 5, the scene changes from the pastures [and the valleys] to the banquet hall, and the image of the Lord from shepherd to host.” Having begun in the green pastures, plodded through the valley of the shadow of death, we are welcomed to the table of the Lord. The great doors of the palace, guarded by the Chief shepherd himself, who is the door, the way the truth and the life, the doors are opened, and the weary Christian is presented to the great banquet feast of the king. No one comes to this table except through Christ, and him crucified.
The details that King David gives of this feast are all important. The table; set perfectly to welcome. The oil; a symbol of the royal treatment. The overflowing cup; the picture of abundance. Everything we need is present.
I saw some pictures of the tea party that was hosted yesterday. Beautiful tables, set and dressed to perfection…tea and every pastry and snack you could imagine laid before my 4-year-old daughter. Eyes as big as saucers. She can’t see it, but we know that the table is set only through incredible amounts of time, care, and preparation from those who prepared it. What a beautiful picture of Psalm 23 for our little girls to behold. So thank you so much, Anna and Afton, and all who were involved, for putting together such a beautiful picture of the gospel for our little girls.
In the scene that David describes in v. 5, the table is set “in the presence of my enemies”. What’s likely in view here is not that there are enemies still actively fighting, but these are the defeated enemies from the valley. This feast is a celebration of victory, with the defeated enemies present to witness the greatness of the victorious king. No enemy can thwart this king. This is again, why all of the paths of righteousness, even the ones that go through the valleys filled with enemies, bring us to this table of the Lord in the house of the Lord.
The psalm ends with the destination that has always been in view to the shepherd but not always to the sheep: the presence of the Lord. Notice that David’s joy is not in any material blessing he receives upon arrival, but upon the reality that goodness and mercy from the Lord will follow him. By follow, David doesn’t mean “will be behind him, always out of reach”, but that the covenantal goodness and mercy of the Lord will pursue him all his days. He cannot escape it. In Psalm 139:8-10, David recounts this pursuit:
“Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there! If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me.”
This is the sustaining love of God. And what David tasted only in part we now taste in measure he could only dream of. The Good Shepherd is not contained to the Holiest of Holies in the temple, but now, through his death, resurrection, and ascension, dwells within us by the power of his Holy Spirit. The Sheperd lives within; always leading, comforting, and sustaining. So, this banquet, this being welcomed by the king, is not just some far-off future event (it is and it will be full and glorious when we eat and drink and sing at the wedding feast of the Lamb who was slain), but it is also something we can taste even now, from day to day. Take comfort, Christian, that your Shepherd is good and he is near to comfort and sustain.
The psalm ends with a most satisfying last word: “I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” What a promise! We enter as guests, but to be God’s guest is to be more than just a distant acquaintance, stopping in for the night and then ushered out the next morning. No, to be God’s guests is to be God’s family, and to be family means to live with one another. This pilgrimage may end in the house of the Lord, but it is clear to David, and consequently true to each of us that the pilgrimage ends at home. Home in the house of the king, in the comfort of the shepherd, under the protection of the Lord.
So, my friends, this psalm is worth cherishing. It is worth lingering over, and pondering, and committing to memory. Psalm 23 puts steel in the bent-over spines of weary saints. It says to us, no matter your circumstance, whether in the broad places or in the deepest gorge, the Lord is your shepherd. Hope in him! Trust the Good Shepherd. Do not fear. And rest secure that he is leading us home where we will dwell with him forever. If we have Christ, nothing can snatch us off the path. As the Apostle Paul puts it:
“For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
Let’s pray.