“Psalm 23”

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
he restores my soul.
He guides me along the right path,
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 your goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

I didn’t grow up with the lectionary. The church I grew up in had sermon series that were either topical or went through a whole book of the Bible at a time. I thought it was how all churches did it. When I started attending a Presbyterian church in college, I was mystified by the lectionary. Created by the Roman Catholic Church after Vatican II in 1969, the Revised Common Lectionary consists of four readings for each Sunday—one from the old testament, new testament, psalms, and gospel. I found it so strange that churches would read the same passages over and over again on a set schedule. Aren’t they leaving things out? And more importantly, how could verses chosen decades ago ever be the “right” passages for what we experience today? 

            It’s still a mystery to me, but now it is a mystery that delights me. I don’t how it’s possible, but here in Lent, in the middle of a global pandemic and mandatory social distancing, the Lectionary gives us the gift of Psalm 23. 

            I don’t know how each of you are responding to the fundamental shift in our way of life. Maybe you heard about William Shakespeare writing King Lear during the plague and have decided that life under quarantine is when you will finally accomplish all the projects you’ve been meaning to get around to. It’s productivity season! Or maybe you’re a parent at home with children you can’t take anywhere and you’re wondering what you are supposed to do with all this time. Or maybe this isolation is incredibly lonely and you find yourself doing anything to fill the space and time that seems as though it will stretch on endlessly. Personally, I find myself with more time on my hands than I know what to do with and yet at the end of the day, I realize I have spent precious little in holy silence. I have kept my mind busy and in doing so, I have spent no time with God. Creating space and time for God is always a challenge and I find it even more so during this time.

            So, I’m going to offer you a gift this morning. Wherever you are watching from—your couch, your dining table, your kitchen as you clean up from breakfast—I invite you to spend some holy silence with God. You are not watching worship happen; you are participating in worship. We’re going to do an ancient practice called Lectio Divina, which means, divine reading. Lectio began as a monastic practice of scripture reading, meditation, and prayer that was intended to deepen the relationship with God and increase knowledge of the Bible.  

            I will read through Psalm 23 three times. The first time, I will invite you to listen for one word that jumps out at you. The second time, I’ll ask you to focus further on what you’ve heard. Listen for what God is speaking to you, not trying to analyze or interpret, but simply to listen for God’s voice. The third time, I invite you to respond to God’s word. What do you have to say to God in response? If you have paper or journal nearby, you can write your thoughts and prayers. Since I can’t see you, I can only hope that you’re finding a comfortable position. Close your eyes and take a deep breath.

Listen for one word that sticks out to you as I read the psalm. 

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
he restores my soul.
He guides me along the right paths
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 your goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. 

This time, listen for what God is speaking to you through scripture this morning. 

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
he restores my soul.
He guides me along the right paths
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 your goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. 

Finally, listen for how God may be calling to respond to the word. What is it that you have to say to God in response?  

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
he restores my soul.
He guides me along the right paths
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 your goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. 

Take these last few moments to reflect on what God spoke to you during this time.

If your eyes are closed, I invite you to now open them. When meditating on Psalm 23 this week, I was drawn immediately to the line, “for you are with me.” In a new season of “social distancing” and isolation, there is nothing I have needed more than to know that God is with me. I need to know that God is with me when I work from home, when I go about my day alone, and when I spend my night alone. When I miss my family and my community and all the people I am used to loving and being loved by, I need to know that God is with me. When I worry for the people who have lost their jobs, lost any margin they might have had, or lost a loved one, I need to remember that God is with them.

            As I prepared this week, I learned that in Hebrew, there are exactly 26 words before and 26 words after the line, “for you are with me.” It is the center, the climax, the focal point. In fact, it changes the entire psalm. King David begins by speaking about God and what he says is true—God is good. God has good plans for our lives, God leads us to places of peace and rest, and it is God alone who restores, refreshes, and renews our weary souls. But speaking truths about God is not the same thing as speaking to God. 

            Those of us who live alone are keenly aware of the difference between speaking about someone and speaking to someone. David says to God, “you are with me.” Every Christmas, we called Jesus by the name, “Emmanuel” for it means, “God with us.” We call him this because God came to us in the form of human being and that presence feels unique and remarkable. But it would a mistake to say that only the Son of God is Emmanuel. Psalm 23 boldly proclaims that God is now and has always been Emmanuel- God with us. 

            I do not know what darkest valley David was in when he wrote this psalm. I do not know if the shadow of death seemed to cling to his cloak as if to squander any chance of hope. But I do know what it is like to walk through a dark valley when we do not know when the journey will end. 

Psalm 23 reminds me of yet another mystery—even in our darkest valleys, we can still turn to God in prayer to boldly proclaim that our cup overflows. Friends, let God be your comfort in these uncertain times. There is no solitude or isolation that can keep God away. As Christians, we cannot avoid pain and suffering. We cannot avoid disappointment, anger, and fear. But what we can do, is bring all of it to God. And somehow, in the middle of the dark valley we can proclaim the truth when fear threatens to destroy all hope—surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

May it be so. Amen.