The following is the text of a teaching I gave to the women of my community from Connections Christian Church on retreat at Peaceful Valley Ranch in Colorado.
Holy Spirit, we welcome you into this place.
May my words be your words, specific to each precious life gathered here. Open our hearts to receive the comfort and challenge of your word that we might better know you and in that knowledge be transformed more and more into your image.
Let’s read Psalm 23 out loud together.
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.
When Heidi and Kristie asked me to help teach on Psalm 23, I was excited about the opportunity. The Psalms are more than poetry. They can play an essential part in shaping our spiritual lives. And Psalm 23, in particular, is such a rich passage. Then I looked closer at the verses I was assigned
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death . . . .
Oh great! I get the death and darkness part, and then—to add a bit of irony—I get to teach here in Peaceful Valley.
But all kidding aside—it is an honor to be trusted with these verses for they teach an important lesson about our journey with Christ and more importantly about the Good Shepherd who we journey with. Some of you may find yourself in that dark valley right now, others may be on a mountain top or just trudging along in an ordinary daily way. Whatever your circumstance, David’s words provide both a comfort and a challenge.
The Valley of Darkness, or shadow of death. The Christian journey will necessarily include valleys, and let me start by saying the hard thing. Sometimes these valleys are self-chosen, the result of our sin. So the first thing I need to do when I find myself in the shadow is some serious self-evaluation. I need to be honest about the situation and my role in it. If we think about dark valleys of sin, it might be easy to point to “big sins” like sexual sin, addiction, deceitful dealings or the like. Certainly, these are places of darkness, but all of these “big sins” have their source in the “small” dark places of our hearts.
- Is the continual conflict with my husband because I’m looking to him to provide what I really need from God?
- Is that friendship strained because of my envious heart?
- Is my loneliness a result of rejecting those that love me or my own lack of initiative?
- Have I rationalized my anger as being just?
- Are my actions motivated by bitterness or unforgiveness?
- Am I worshipping something other than God?
Here’s a little test: As you look at a situation in your life and the Spirit pricks you with conviction, do you respond “Yes, but ….” (and fill in your rationalization) or do you respond “Yes God”?
Living with an unrepentant heart will always result in darkness because we serve a holy God who cannot abide the presence of sin. It’s easy to think that such darkness is a kind of punishment (and it might well serve that function), but the darkness of sin is, in actuality, its natural result. To sin is to walk away from the Light into the darkness. It’s not that God won’t bless sin; it is that he can’t bless it.
The healthy response to this sort of darkness is simple, but not easy. Repentance, humility, confession—turning or re-turning to God. And the beauty of our Good Shepherd is that he is waiting eagerly for us with open arms.
If some darkness is the result of sin, there are still many valleys that are not. And I believe this is the sort of valley that David is speaking of.
He says, “Even though I walk …. “ In these words, David expresses a sense of inevitability. Arriving in the valley is not a surprise to him. Her doesn’t say, “If I should happen at some point to wander into a dark valley.” No. He says: “Even though I walk through death’s shadow.” Don’t forget that these words follow fast his declaration of the Shepherd’s guidance in the preceding verse—“He leads me in paths of righteousness.” Righteous paths do not preclude a journey through dark times. David has very real enemies, out for his very life, and he has suffered much as a result. He is not shy about expressing this. We see that suffering on full display in the previous chapter when he cries out: “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” Here we see the man after God’s own heart calling out in grief and fear.
As believers in a fallen world, we will all walk through difficult times. Any Christian worth their salt would not say otherwise. From the apostle Paul (who begged for the thorn in his flesh to be removed) to St John of the Cross (who penned the treatise The Dark Night of the Soul) to Mother Teresa (whose diary of questions and doubts were nearly not published) to the faithful saint in the seat next to you, we all find ourselves in shadow times. It may be the result of grief or loss or of a broken relationship. You might be watching a loved one suffer through consequences of poor choices. Maybe you are struggling through times of challenge or change with young children or adult children. It might be a time of dryness when God seems silent or faith seems lifeless.
As a college freshmen, I experienced my first short journey through a valley. Everything about my faith seemed crisp around the edges. Through prayer and self-reflection, I sought God, looking for any sin that might be keeping Him from me. All seemed well. While I didn’t receive a sense of conviction, I did receive the words of a wise woman who told me that sometimes God is quiet, and our journey may be simply living by faith, trusting that, in the same way He had proved himself in the past to me, He would eventually do it again. How grateful I was to know this truth when years later my journey through the valley was much longer and much darker. In that more severe faith crisis, I had in the back of my mind that this experience could very well be just part of the journey.
So, in your valley remember that you are not the first to travel here, and you are not some strange anomaly of faith when you find yourself feeling alone in the dark.
David has more to strengthen our hearts in the difficult times, but before we move to them let me make two more comments about the valley of the shadow of death.
- Note the word “through”—we are moving through a valley not falling in a bottomless pit of darkness. The great promise of the Christian faith is that He will bring an end to the tribulation. You can’t get through the valley unless you keep on walking. I am reminded of the very succinct words of Elisabeth Elliot, whose missionary husband was killed by a native tribe in South America. In the times of overwhelming grief, she told herself, “Just do the next thing.” Or in the immortal words of Dory the fish in Finding Nemo, “Just Keep Swimming.” One foot forward will bring you closer to the end of the valley.
- The darkness of this valley is not death itself but only its shadow. And there is no shadow without Light. Above the mountain is the Light and that is where our hope lies—in the promise of His light and life beyond the darkness. Even if the valley journey seems to have no end in sight, we can choose to live in the reality that the Light of this world will have the ultimate victory when he restores all things under his reign.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me;
David recognized that evil is real and has real power. He is no fool in that respect, but he chooses not to fear. Why can he make that choice? Because God is with him. The reality here is not that we are exempt from the presence of evil, but that God is present with us. Acknowledging His presence casts out fear. According to John, the presence of perfect love casts out fear.
In his book The Knowledge of the Holy, A.W. Tozer compares our fear to that of a lost child. “The moment we come under the protection of one of good will, fear is cast out. A child lost in a crowded store is full of fear because he sees strangers around him as enemies. In his mother’s arms a moment later all the terror subsides. The known good will of the mother casts out fear.”
It has been said that the opposite of faith is not doubt but fear. The enemy loves to see us fear because it breaks our faith. When we dwell in fear, we deny God’s power and presence in our lives (and it also elevates our perception of Satan’s power over us.) No matter real the presence of your enemy, what is more real is the presence of the Good Shepherd who leaves the ninety-nine to find the one lost lamb.
Throughout scripture we see God’s presence as both personal and powerful. From walks in Eden’s garden with Adam and Eve to the fiery pilar over Israel’s tabernacle to the baby Jesus in the manger, God’s desire is to be present with his people as a source of comfort, healing, and rest.
Again, from Tozer “The healing balm distilled from the garments of the enfolding Presence cures our ills before they become fatal. The knowledge that we are never alone calms the troubled sea of our lives and speaks peace to our souls.”
The answer to our fear is God himself. His presence is present tense—here and now, in this very moment. To be present with God means we rein in the mind movies of past and future tense. Recycling past actions of regret or painful trauma. Projecting the future dangers or mapping anxious “what ifs.” That is where the Enemy wants us to live—not in the present with our present God. When Moses needs confirmation of God’s presence to quell his fears, God declares that his name is I AM—Yahweh. God is the essence of being, the very present tense of the universe. And from that point on in scripture, every time they call upon the LORD/Yahweh they are reminded of his presence. To remember that he is present, they need only say his name.
So how do we cultivate our lives in God’s presence as a remedy to fear? Here’s a few hints that have helped me.
- Reading the Psalms will reinforce God’s character and our relationship to him. The Psalms were a lifeline for me when I could not pray. If you cannot pray, let the words of God’s people be your prayer and be reminded of His faithfulness and His promises.
- Acknowledge the Enemy but in the context of your power through Christ. Just a couple of days ago as I was preparing to speak to you, the Enemy started to whisper little lies to degrade my confidence. “No one wants to hear this.” “Everyone already knows this.” “Why do you think you know anything?” When I realized what was happening, I rebuked those words of negativity. When you hear the voice that is not the Good Shepherd, speak against it, out loud, maybe even with your hand up as a physical rebuke. Do not let the Enemy have more victories in your life. You are God’s child, and the Devil has no power over you.
- Remember His faithfulness. We are so blessed to have our own copy of the Bible that we can return again and again to read and remember God’s faithful presence with his people. In fact, this is God’s command to Israel as they are about to embark on the mission to take the Promised Land.
- Deuteronomy 7:17-21
- 17 “If you say in your heart, ‘These nations are greater than I. How can I dispossess them?’ 18 you shall not be afraid of them but you shall remember what the Lord your God did to Pharaoh and to all Egypt, 19 the great trials that your eyes saw, the signs, the wonders, the mighty hand, and the outstretched arm, by which the Lord your God brought you out. So will the Lord your God do to all the peoples of whom you are afraid. 20 Moreover, the Lord your God will send hornets among them, until those who are left and hide themselves from you are destroyed. 21 You shall not be in dread of them, for the Lord your God is in your midst, a great and awesome God.
- Remember His faithfulness in their lives and his faithfulness in your own.
- Breath prayers are an ancient prayer practice, taking a short prayer phrase and repeating it in correspondence with your breathing. My particular favorite is an modification of the Kyrie Eleison which is Latin for “Lord, have mercy.” Pray a syllable with each breath—“Lord” (inhale) “have” (exhale) “mer” (inhale) “cy” (exhale). I follow with “Christ have mercy.” (I kind of like the Latin version. Kyrie Eleison, Christe Eleison. Not to be fancy, but the syllables fit better with the inhale-exhale). I find this especially helpful at night when I have trouble sleeping. There is a strong physiological connection in this type of prayer that can calm you. As I pray this way, I try to make my mind focus on these two names for God. He is my Lord, my ruler, but also the ruler of the universe with all power to control the world around me. He is my Christ, my Savior. His desire is for my good, and he will rescue me.
- Worship—Worship is more than singing songs. I think of it as looking up, lifting your head to acknowledge who God is rather than looking down at the circumstances around us. Ps 3:3 says, “But you, O Lord, are a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head.” Here we see both the personal and powerful presence of God. He is a shield and protector. A powerful presence that we can glory in. But he is also personal, the one who lifts our head. Can’t you just see God, our Good Shepherd, reaching down in our distress to lift our chin up so that we can gaze upon Him and His glory.
Worship is the answer to confusion about the state of the world and our place in it. Entering God’s presence re-orders our lives under his holiness and love and righteousness—all the things that are beautiful, pure, and true. It settles our questions in the depth of his character.
Your rod and your staff they comfort me.
David now continues to explain why he is not afraid by describing the Shepherd’s tools—the rod and the staff. These tools demonstrate the Shepherd’s actions toward his sheep and the character that motivates these actions.
A shepherd would be armed with a rod which is something like a club or a cudgel. It is a weapon of defense against predators that might slip into the herd to attack. As sheep have no primary defenses against predation, they are dependent on the Shepherd for protection, and they know their dependency.
I have a close family friend who has raised sheep for a long time. I asked him about how they act when he’s around. Does his presence change them? Here is what he said: “They definitely know my voice. They are generally calm when I’m with them. If someone approaches, they tend to stay by me until I’m ok with what is going on. They have no defense—can’t bite or kick. They can butt with their heads though.”
Our Good Shepherd wants to keep his lambs safe. The question is—Do you want to be protected? Are you letting Jesus defend you? Or have you assumed that role for yourself, trying to head butt your way through your valley?
Comfort will only come in submission to the rod of protection.
A staff is that iconic emblem of shepherds—the tall walking stick with a crook on the top. This tool is used to guide the sheep, keep them together on the right path, and direct them away from danger. Sheep are very good followers but not very good leaders and need to be directed to avoid hazards and pitfalls. The shepherd wants to keep his sheep on a proper path. The question here is—Are you letting him guide you? Does it take a gentle nudge to get you going or do you need a whop on the butt? Or do you find the crook around your neck to pull you back from the precipice?
Comfort will only come in submission to the staff of his guidance.
David declares that such tools are a comfort to him. Comfort here is not exactly a cozy blanket with a cup of tea by the hearth of a crackling fire. Rather, it is the consolation of the soul. A place of wholeness, resting place. We see Isaiah use these same words
For the Lord comforts Zion;
he comforts all her waste places and makes her wilderness like Eden,
her desert like the garden of the Lord;
joy and gladness will be found in her,
thanksgiving and the voice of song.
Isn’t that the sort of comfort that you long for? O my friend—what do you take comfort in? Is it the protection and guidance of the Shepherd? Or do you look for it somewhere else?
- A quart of double Dutch chocolate ice cream or bag of chips
- A glass (or 2 or 3) of wine
- Bingeing 2 or 3 seasons of a Netflix show
- Mindless hours scrolling Instagram
- Saturday afternoon shopping spree
- Self-harm or self-loathing
- Lying in bed for hours in the dark
These are worldly comforts that will never completely satisfy. When my grandmother was dying, my mom, two sisters and I left her care center one afternoon and made our way to Target. I clearly remember walking out of the store together with an uplifted feeling and my sister saying , “Ah! shopping therapy.” The only problem was the feeling only lasted for the drive home and didn’t do much for us when we returned to her bedside again.
Isn’t it interesting that the Holy Spirit is called the Comforter? With the Holy Spirit we have the power of his rod for victory over our enemies. With the Holy Spirit we have a loving guide over the rough roads. This is our Good Shepherd who has, not only the power to defend us and the wisdom to guide us, but also the loving desire to do so.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
David now switches metaphors from God as the Shepherd to God as our Host. But no ordinary host, this host chooses quite the location for his dinner party—the middle of a battlefield. In this image we see the boldness, dare I say audacity of God. It is a ballsy act! Our Shepherd is secure in his place and power, confident enough to provide a feast in a fight. Certainly, the people of Israel would hear echoes of God’s provision of manna and meat for them in their wilderness wanderings. God is present to provide our very basic needs even when threats are present. His hospitality is always available, no matter the circumstance.
you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
In my initial mediations on this phrase, I assumed this was an image similar to the anointing of Aaron as priest or David as king, and I was all ready to talk about our place as being anointed and marked as Christ’s own. But when I looked into the word that is used here, it actually means to make fat or fill with marrow or impart strength. This phrase extends the metaphor of a generous host who prepares, not just any table for us, but a feast that will fill our bones with strength. This feast is bold and rich but also abundant: “My cup overflows.” His provision is more than enough for our need. Together these three images depict the Shepherd’s table as a generous profusion of fare for our good health and well-being. Jesus says in Luke 12:32
“Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. “
When we recognize God’s personal and powerful presence, when we find comfort in his rod of protection and his staff of guidance, we find ourselves at the table of plenty, rich with oil and wine. So won’t you join me at this table—this table of Communion.
Our dark valleys take on a different aspect when we come to this table and remember
- This is our God who walked through the dark valley, not just through the shadow, but into its utter depths of death itself
- This is the God who cried out My God, My God, why have you forsaken me because he was indeed truly forsaken
- This is the Good Shepherd who is our final, true sacrificial lamb and who now welcomes us to the communion feast.
Come now and remember his body broken and his blood shed. These are the gifts of God for the people of God. Feed on him in your hearts by faith with thanksgiving.
Wonderfully prepared. So proud of you and your good, Holy Spirit inspired teaching!
Love you, Peg
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Thanks Peg!
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