Sunday, October 12, 2014

Reflection for the Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost



“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not be in want.”
This familiar line is the opening to Psalm 23, perhaps one of the most well-known poems in the Bible. It has been set to music, translated in countless renditions, been cited in movies, and painted into image, again and again.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not be in want.
The image of God as shepherd is a familiar one, and comforting, and for good reason, too. It is immensely comforting to have a guide, a protector, whose sole purpose is to care for us, tend to our needs, lead us to safe places to eat and live, and who protects us from dangers.

The Lord makes me lie down in green pastures and leads me beside still waters.
This line is the one that pervades our “shepherding God” images: green hill, calm stream, quietly grazing sheep: the kind of place that busy, tired, stressed humans find to be the picture of serenity and comfort. If only our lives included so much peace and tranquility.

You restore my soul, O Lord, and guide me along right pathways for your name’s sake.
But it is not the call of humans to lie in fields and rest for all of our lives. We are called into the world, where we are led by our shepherd, who also did not avoid the difficulties of the world. God made God’s self into a human person, to live and walk and work among us. Our lives take us along all kinds of pathways, and we hope that we will be able to follow the call of our shepherd into the “right” pathways, for God’s work.

Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
Here’s where our picturesque vision of the quiet, green, safe field starts to shatter a little. Valley of the shadow of death? Evil that could be feared? These are not usually part of the scene. But they are very much a part of life. There is no way to get around the difficult, stressful, painful parts of life that leave us wishing for a respite, no matter how brief, in a quiet place. But, we are not alone. The One who became incarnate and walked among us also walked in the difficult, stressful, painful parts of life. Our God knows our valleys and our peaks.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil, and my cup is running over.
God who knows our heights and depths prepares for us what we need: a table for food, blessing with oil, and cups overflowing with goodness, even in the presence of the very things that haunt us, that make us want to fear, though the psalmist declares that, with God, there is no fear. We may not always recognize the good gifts that have been given to us, or the strength of the One who gives them, but our shepherd does care for us, even in the difficult, stressful, painful times.

“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”
And so the psalm concludes, reminding us that these gifts and God’s protection are not just for one moment, one rest, one brief period of time, but for all the days of our lives, now and forever.

Thanks be to God.
Amen

No comments:

Post a Comment