![]() |
|
"Yea Though I Walk…"
Psalm 23
A Sermon preached by the Rev. Douglas M. Donley
All Saints Day
November 4, 2001
University Baptist Church
Minneapolis, MN
A pastor new to a church decided he didn’t like the fact that people in his aging congregation were sitting so far apart. The pews were bolted down in his new church, so instead of moving the pews, he invited the people to gather in the front of the church, in the first couple of the pews. In the cavernous space, he reasoned, it would add intimacy. Reluctantly, people came forward and the service went on. But one person would not come forward. The pastor reasoned that either she could not hear his instructions or was just plain stubborn. After church, he asked, "why didn’t you come forward?" She responded, "Pastor I have sat in this same pew for 40 years. And when I sit here, I can look over there and in my mind’s eye see Don and Florence. I can see Wanda and Bruce. And when I sit here, my husband who died 10 years ago is still sitting next to me like he did for 30 years." The preacher stopped asking people to move after that.
This is all saints day. Bells ring on banners reminding us of those who have gone before. So often they seem so distant, but today we invoke their memories and they are as close as the ringing of the bells as close as the breath we breath. If we look closely, we might even see them in the pews next to us.
Most people know the 23rd Psalm. If you ask anyone who is remotely religious, or even secular, they can usually quote John 3:16 and parts of Psalm 23. It has been set to music numerous times, in numerous methods. We have sung it once and the choir will sing it again in a few moments. It gives comfort to people in times of grief. It is a six-verse gospel of strength, vision, hope and security.
At ground zero, people have intoned, "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." Many of us have been at ground zero points in our lives, where we have lost a loved one, or the pain and despair of some situation feels like the valley of the shadow of death. In that valley it is easy to become lost. It is easy to spiral down to the abyss and to see nothing but a valley of dry bones. God knows this about us.
And the writer of the psalm knows this about him or herself, too. The writer says, even when I am there, "I will fear no evil for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." I think of the writer saying this just so he or she will believe it. You have to know this psalm and say it in the good times in order to understand it or feel it in the bad times. It’s all too easy to think in our despair that we are alone and consumed by the evil and carnage around us. But we are not alone. God is there in the valley of dry bones. God is there granting us peace and hope in the midst of despair.
We sheep have a protector in the shepherd, says the Psalm which we need to hear, read and sing. Jesus and God are metaphorically called the good shepherd throughout the Bible. Think about the shepherds in Biblical times. They were responsible for each and every one of the sheep. The shepherds always knew the sheep by name, and when one of them went astray, they would search high and low until the sheep was found. The shepherd knows her way around the countryside and can se where danger lurks. With a good shepherd around, why you don’t have to worry about a thing. For she will guide us sheep and provide for our needs, and even give us a sip of cold water when our souls are in need of comfort. "She leadeth me beside the still water and restores my soul."
"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." When a loved one has died, when we fear a war on terrorism is doing little to stop the terrorists, we need the help of the shepherd to restore our souls. The good shepherd will do it by using his rod and staff. "Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." The rod and staff are shepherd’s tools used for comfort and protection, not beating. My friend Nancy Hastings Sehested wrote, "The shepherd uses the rod to scare off the coyotes and the wolves. It was used gently for guiding sheep down a new path or through a gate that they needed to go through or alongside a dangerous trail so they wouldn’t fall off. And being stubborn creatures, sheep often get themselves into ridiculous situations. Greedy for one more mouthful of grass, sheep will climb down a steep cliff and then slip and fall into the water. A very skillful shepherd with a long rod and staff and pull them out."
We all need shepherding from time to time so we don’t stray off into paths that will hurt or destroy us. A good shepherd protects us, encourages us and compels us along the journey of the pastures of our lives.
"Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil for Thou art with me…" When the land we must cross is unfamiliar and hostile, we are given a guide, a guard, a comforter, a friend. We do not walk through this land alone. The God who loves us and created us will never leave us desolate, especially in the face of evil and enemies.
The prophet Isaiah proclaims "My steadfast love shall not depart from you, and my covenant of peace shall not be removed, says God, who has compassion on you. O afflicted one, storm-tossed and not comforted. You shall not fear, and terror shall not come near you; fear not! Should anyone attack you, that will not be my doing…My kindness shall not depart from you, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts."
This is also a subversive psalm. "Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of my enemies." It doesn’t say, "thou blasts mine enemies back into the stone age." It doesn’t say, "Thou vanquishes mine enemies and lifts me up higher than them." It says, God prepares a table where friend and foe will share a meal. It is like Jesus saying in the sermon on the mount, "Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you."
That’s where the rod and staff lead us. In the end this new community is the ultimate comfort.
That is what brings goodness and mercy all the days of our lives.
And so in the valley of the shadow of death, we contemplate on the 23rd Psalm, we remember the lives of those who have gone before us and who are as close as the pingings sounds of bells attached to ribbon. And we remember not only that they are here beside us, but that they are connected to the Good Shepherd in a mystical, angelic fashion that continues to guide and guard and even gently use their staffs to guide us in the right paths.
And when we come together at this table, in this community, in our grief and remembrance, having listened to and given voice to the names of those departed from us, we garner strength.
As we eat this meal and feast on the stories of our lives which we share, we are healed as we reconnect with our loved ones and God’s over arching purpose for us.
That is what church is all about.
We commit ourselves to carry on their work.
We commit to saying that those who have gone before did not die in vain.
We are saying that they live on in us, ever guiding us in the right paths, ever concerned for our well-being, ever grieving when we grieve, rejoicing when we rejoice.
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.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies;
Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup overfloweth.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever."