“Psalm or Shepherd: Which Do You Kow Better?”

A Sermon Preached by

The Rev. Jean Niven Lenk

First Congregational Church of Stoughton

United Church of Christ

There is a story told about the famous English-born actor Charles Laughton. One night a dinner banquet was held in his honor, and after the guests had finished eating, they gathered in the living room, where the host called upon the actor to recite the 23rd Psalm. Laughton’s recitation was brilliant -- beautifully intoned with impeccable timing and great dramatic emphasis – and he finished to a great round of applause.

After Laughton was done, the host went around the room and invited other guests to recite their favorite poems or readings. Then the host came to his elderly aunt sitting in the corner; she was almost deaf and had not heard much of what had been going on. And when she arose, she began to recite… the 23rd Psalm. At first, people were embarrassed that she should try what the famed actor had already performed so beautifully. But soon, everyone was caught up in her recitation; some even began to weep, it was so stirring.

Later, someone asked Laughton, “How is it that yours was a brilliant professional rendering, but it was hers that moved us?” And the actor replied, “I know the Psalm, but she knows the Shepherd.”

Well, as you have probably figured out from our prayers and hymns and scripture lessons, today is Good Shepherd Sunday. Every year, on the fourth Sunday of Easter, the lectionary readings include the 23rd Psalm, perhaps the most familiar and beloved verses in all of scripture. Henry Ward Beecher called this the “nightingale” of the psalms, and indeed, its musical cadences have rippled through the lives of countless people since childhood. Even those who don’t know a thing about the bible have at least a passing familiarity with the 23rd Psalm. You may have noticed that I chose to have the King James Version printed in today’s bulletin, and even the “runneths” and “leadeths” and “makeths” spill onto our tongues so naturally and so easily that we could describe this text as one of the ties that bind us to each other, to our faith, and to God.

Not only are these the first verses of scripture many of us ever speak, but they are, for many, the last words we hear. I have recited them at countless bedsides, and I include the psalm in funeral services -- inviting people to say it along with me, much as we did this morning – for it witnesses to God’s guidance, encouragement, and life-long care. It is fitting that the words of the 23rd Psalm accompany us from the beginning of our lives until the end, because the words themselves speak of God’s abiding presence with us.

“The Lord is my shepherd…” My shepherd. My protector. My caregiver. The one who watches out for me. Many of us find comfort in the image of God as Shepherd, which can be found throughout the bible. In the New Testament, Jesus takes the title of shepherd for himself. In Luke [15:3-7], he is the concerned shepherd who leaves his 99 sheep behind to go out looking for the one who is lost. In Mark’s gospel, we are told that Jesus has compassion on the crowds because they are like sheep without a shepherd [6:34]. And in today’s Gospel reading from John, Jesus says, “I am the Good Shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep…I know my sheep and they know me…” The pastoral images of God as the shepherd who guides, protects, and provides for his sheep is at once engaging, encouraging and inspiring.

And so, you would think that this psalm would be a preacher’s delight; a well-loved, well-known scripture about God’s loving care…a shepherd who leads and a host who makes room at the table and in the household. To use a basketball analogy – afterall, the Celtics are heading to the playoffs – this scripture should be a “slam-dunk” for any self-respecting preacher. But it’s not that easy.

First of all, sheep and shepherd analogy works, but only to a point; although we might find comfort in the image of God as shepherd, when it comes to being likened to sheep, don’t we get just a wee bit indignant? After all, sheep have been described as “excitable, willful, naively curious, easily led astray, at times unreasonably stubborn, and not always intelligent.” Hmmm. Know anyone like that?

And we can get overly sentimental about the serene image of Jesus in a flowing white robe holding a cuddly little lamb in his arms. Shepherds, at the time of the writing of this Psalm, were marginalized people -- needed, but not always respected, for the work they had to do. Most likely they were pretty dirty and smelly, too. The job required leading the flock to pasture, seeking strays before they fell victim to predators, and accounting for the well-being of the whole flock to the owner at the appointed time. The law was such that if a shepherd lost any of the sheep to wolves, thieves, or carelessness, the shepherd was personally responsible for replacing that which was lost.

It was no wonder that the really good shepherds were in short supply in Palestine. It was neither an easy nor a glamorous job, and certainly not one that was sought after. It was actually a difficult, dirty job to tend sheep, and shepherds were even expected to become martyrs for the sake of their animals. The childhood images we have of the Good Shepherd are sanitized, romanticized, and tenderized, which add to the complexity of preaching on the 23rd Psalm.

But it’s more than that. We live in a world of uncertainty, a place of terrorism, a place where war can rage in the holiest of lands, where children can be unsafe even in a school. One wonders how we can recite and truly believe the words, “Yea, though I walk through valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.” The 23rd Psalm’s image of green pastures and still waters live in tension with the pictures from the nightly news… images of suicide bombings, of shooting rampages, of kidnappings and brutal beheadings. It is not a simple melody, but rather a strangely dissonant song that we sing to God in this Psalm.

But the psalmist doesn’t say that our world is without danger or trouble, nor does he say that we will be able to avoid the valley of the shadow in our lives. What the psalmist does proclaim is that we can live without fear because we can be assured that, through it all, God is with us -- sheltering, leading, and providing for us.

What are the valleys you are walking through? A terminal illness? The vulnerability of age? Maybe you’re in the valley of a failing marriage, or a job loss that is causing financial worries. Perhaps drugs or alcohol or guilt or regret have led you into the valley. Or maybe you are feeling the death of joy and hope.

The Psalmist doesn’t say we will avoid the valleys in our life; we will all have our turn there. But the 23rd Psalm is a song about the protective love that wraps around us even when we are in the depths to restore and comfort us; it is a song about the gentle shepherd who leads us, ensuring that we walk not into the valley, but through it to hope and healing on the other side.

You know the psalm. But do you know the shepherd?

A relationship with the shepherd will transform you, because when you know – truly know with every fiber of your being – that “thou art with me,” then you can live your life differently. When “The Lord is my shepherd” and your Shepherd, we can be assured that we will not be left in the valley alone. So powerful is the love of God that we no longer need fear danger, or enemies, or death, or the realities of life. When we can say, “The Lord is my Shepherd,” we can rest in the assurance that, no matter how far we stray from the flock, we will be sought after until we are found, rescued, and brought home.

A pastor tells the story of Beth, a woman severely crippled by a stroke, able only to communicate with nods and moans. When she wants to communicate with him, he points to letters on a child’s slate. It is in this line? She shakes her head “no.” Is it in this one? She nods “Yes.” Is it M? Is it N? Is it O? Is it P?” The letter is “p”.” And then “s.” And “2” and “3. Her message is Ps 23 -- she wants him to recite the 23rd Psalm. Because to hear its familiar words is to be guided by Christ the Good Shepherd through the valley to a place in which paralysis and pain, in which loss and violence and war and evil and the heartbreaks of life do not have the final word.

The deepest needs of our life -- the need for love, peace, joy, and comfort -- can be met through a relationship with Christ. Come to know the Good Shepherd. Know that he is nearby. Know that he loves you. Know that he will come when you call to him in prayer, when you are frightened, or anxious, or in pain. Then you will be able to say and truly believe the words, “The Lord is MY shepherd, I shall not want… He restoreth my soul… I will fear no evil… my cup runneth over… Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” Amen.