Psalm 23
When Psalm 23 was written, many of the people of Israel were shepherds. They knew what it meant to take care of sheep – to lead them on safe paths, to find them lush pastures, to bring them to water in a quiet place where it was safe to drink. The Psalmist drew on one of the most caring relationships in everyday life to describe how protected he felt by God.
People cared for their sheep because they made life possible. Their wool clothed them. Their milk and meat fed them. Their lambs became their generational wealth. And they cared for their sheep because they spent a lot of time with them. You have to pay attention day and night if you are going to be a good shepherd. It was comforting to think that God was paying constant and benevolent attention to them.
Three thousand years ago there were very few atheists. Every nation or tribe had at least one god. The realities of daily living were explained by telling stories about gods – gods of war and peace, or hunting and hearth, of day and night, of planting and harvest, of love and justice, of life and death. Some of these gods were kind and generous; many were not. Everything that happened in life was controlled by one god or another. The Psalmist is celebrating that their god is as caring as the best shepherd. They can have confidence that God will care for them.
We often read Psalm 23 when we need someone to care about us and for us. It’s a star at funerals. It whispers in hospital rooms. Children memorize it about the time they start striking out more on their own and need some extra protection. Our modern world has scientific explanations for most things and we no longer believe that the details of our everyday life are controlled by one god or another, but it’s still nice to believe that there’s some good power behind all that is which is on our side. Even when our life story sends us down some dark valleys, and we all have dark valleys from time to time, we can assert that we’re not walking alone. God is present.
Last week we read the story about Jesus asking Peter to feed his sheep, placing the care of the earth and her peoples in the hands of the disciples. Sometimes we understand that to mean the church is responsible for taking care of folks. We sing that every Sunday:
Christ has no body now but yours…
No hands, no feet on earth but yours…
Yours are the eyes with which he looks compassion on this world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.
I don’t know about you, but right now I’m feeling like that’s a lot of responsibility. I’ve told you that I call our three people in Congress five days a week. You’d think I’d run out of things to tell them, but the fact is most days there’s so many things I have trouble choosing. Almost all of those days I’m pleading for them not to hurt someone: stop bombing, release aid, fund health care and education, restore research grants, stop firing people. Lots of times I tell them, “You have to care about people because I can’t afford to care for them without you.” I feel like we’ve earned the right to say that, because we certainly try to do as much as possible. Being good shepherds for all God’s flock is one of the ways we understand how Jesus people live in the world. It’s an image that works.
I was thinking about how long Jesus people have been at that job this week, and I realized it’s OK if we don’t finish the job. There are lots of folks before us who worked at it, and they didn’t finish either. I used to say it was enough to make a little progress. But progress isn’t a straight line upward, so these days I say it’s enough if we are kind and do what we can. Following Jesus, loving God’s people, is a way of being, not a job that ends.
The church has been at this way of being for a long time. This week the part of Jesus people who used to be the only game in town got a new leader. I was hoping for someone I’d like, even though I knew they wouldn’t ask me. I think we got a keeper. He cares about the people. He sees everyone, even those some would push down or throw out. He understands about taking care of earth. He has a vision for peace. He’s excited about the work that needs to be done. He’s not afraid. Even though we’ll never meet him, he’s our partner in creating something new for this world.
One more thing about this Psalm – we’re asked to be the shepherd, but we also get to be the sheep. We can take a break and let folks care for us. We can sit out one protest or one project. We work together AND we can play together. Good food. Good music. Good jokes every Sunday. We can trust God and all the power of the universe to fill our cup to the brim when it’s dry, to give us a safe place to rest, to show us a way forward and to have our back. I know that’s hard to believe. There are a lot of broken places in this world. There are broken places in our hearts. Three thousand years ago a singer wrote this psalm to tell us God’s love and care are true. Two thousand years ago Jesus told us God IS love and we can love each other. One of the most important things we do for each other is to affirm the truth of God’s love, even on days we don’t much see it. To stand by each other until the darkness lifts and the light returns. And to say over and over, “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long.”