Shepherded

"Shepherded" FPC 5-15-11

Psalm 23, John 10:1-10

          Stress. Anybody out there feeling any stress?

          If you’re one of our youth or college students, maybe you feel the stress of trying to get good grades, or you’re “stressed out” with dating (or not dating), or getting along with friends or parents, or graduating and moving into a new stage of life.

          If you’re a parent, maybe pressure comes from driving your kids from one activity to another and trying to find the balance between not being too lenient with your children but also not too rigid.

          I suspect some people in this sanctuary struggle with having enough money in a sputtering economy.

          Others suffer illnesses and aches and pains or they care for loved ones who have those afflictions.

          Some of us face difficult work situations, pain in work or personal relationships.

          Still others find retirement nerve-wracking not relaxing, and death itself is a frightening, stress-filled prospect. Anybody here have any stress? Hey, I’m with you. I had a heck of time getting this sermon finished. (Didn’t I just write one of these a couple of days ago?)

          I think the Psalmist is our stress brother, and he writes the 23^rd Psalm as a response to pressures he faces. What exactly is his situation? We don’t know for sure. But he says, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.” So it’s possible he’s hungry or thirsty or seeking shelter or needing money even.

          Then he writes, “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death . . .” Or as the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible translates it, “Even  though I walk through the darkest valley . . .” “The Hebrew is ambiguous. It may refer to deep distress, extreme danger, or even the world of the dead. The exact meaning is unclear, but the inference is clear enough–the pressure of distress and danger that could turn deadly.

          “And finally, the Psalmist says, ‘You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies . . .’ The word for enemies here carries the sense of someone who is a foe, someone who vexes or harasses.” (Jeff Paschal, Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary, Year A, Vol. 2, 430-432) Do you have any enemies in your life? The Psalmist does. And he’s stressed, pressured from multiple sources. So what does he do in response? He talks, or maybe he sings about who we are, and more importantly, who God is.

          “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul.” Imagine reading these words amidst the shouting on the trading floor at Wall Street. How about reading them at the board meeting for a Fortune 500 company as the board decides on the CEO’s latest multi-million-dollar bonus? Or read these words at the book-signing for the latest self-help guru.

          “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul.” These words seem out of place in our frantic, greedy, and arrogant culture, don’t they? But down deep we know these words are true. We aren’t so great. The Psalmist says we’re like sheep. And if you know anything about sheep, they aren’t that bright. Somebody told me a sheep is so dumb it will fall into fast-moving water and drown. So the shepherd has to lead it to still waters. And no matter how many academic degrees or scholastic honors we’ve achieved, none of us has earned the right to be cocksure, to think we are so smart, so self-reliant, and in any position to think we are so much wiser than other people. No. We’re like sheep. And we’re not self-made people either. The Lord is our shepherd who causes the rain to fall and the sun to shine and the plants to grow and the earth to produce food. We don’t sustain ourselves by our own ingenuity. God gives us sustenance. And God is the shepherd who has created us so that when we trust God–not our own schemes, not our own intelligence, not our cleverness--then we at last can lie down in green pastures and drink from still waters and find our souls restored.

          As one writer puts it, “God is a refuge for us. That is the great discovery of faith. That is the merciful word that comes to be written so plainly in the life that has formed the habit of faith. God our refuge.” (Percy C. Ainsworth, “The Habit of Faith” in Weavings, XXV, Number 4, 27.)

          God is our refuge and we discover that through the habit of faith, through trusting God again and again through life’s blinding storms and bewildering mazes. We turn to read Scripture, pray, worship, trust God as we develop the habit of faith, and, as the Psalmist says, God leads us in the paths of righteousness. Little by little, over time God leads us in the right ways, ways that are not merely pleasing to us but pleasing to God.

          But it’s not easy. And the Psalmist admits as much. He says, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.” Yes, God walks with us through the darkest, scariest parts of life. We are never alone, no matter what we face. But God also protects us in ways we do not always predict or understand or even perceive.

          The Psalmist says, “Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.” Isn’t this a striking image? Novelist John Irving said, “. . . enemies are . . . the necessary concomitant of any robust life, the very proof of its strength.” Imagine your enemies gathered, gathered around you. What do you feel? Fear? Anger? Revulsion? But you’re seated at a table. And God is the host. Your head is anointed with soothing oil. Your cup overflows. God’s love celebrates with you, and God vindicates you. The more we seek to serve God in this life, the more enemies will rise to meet us, but the Psalmist promises God will vindicate us and rejoice with us.

          The 17^th century Christian Francis de Sales said, “Do not look forward to the changes and chances of this life with fear, rather look upon them with strong hope that, as they arise, God, whose child you are, will deliver you from them. He has kept you hitherto, do you but hold fast to his hand and he will lead you safely through all things. Where you cannot walk, he will bear you in his arms. Do not look forward to whatever may happen tomorrow; the same everlasting Father who cares for you today will take care of you tomorrow and everyday. Either he will shield you from suffering or he will give you the unfailing strength to bear it.” (Francis de Sales quoted by Wendy M. Wright, “Seeking Stillness” in Weavings, Jan/Feb. 2007, 30.)

          And then the Psalm ends. “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” The Hebrew can actually be translated as, “Surely goodness and mercy shall dog me all my life . . . ” Imagine God’s goodness and mercy hounding us all our lives. Every moment God is at work for our good, pursuing us with sustenance, rest, peace, protection, goodness, and mercy. Imagine. Better yet, trust.

          [I invite you to try a centering prayer exercise with me. If you’re willing, I invite you to close your eyes . . . sit quietly with feet on the floor, hands in your lap . . . breathe slowly and deeply . . . and in your mind slowly repeat “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want . . .  He makes me to lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside the still waters . . .  He restoreth my soul.”]

          “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and they staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” Forever. Amen.