Psalm 23: When You Have a Good Master
This summer on More Than Sundays, we turn our attention to the Psalms. We have asked our writers to write about their favorite Psalm with the intention that it will provide our readers with encouragement, insight, and wisdom. Please enjoy!
I’ve been known to take walks in the dark, and I’m not just talking about it in the figurative sense. It is probably wise to advise the reader that there are still things that go bump in the night and still dangers to sojourning in a world hidden to the naked eye, but on a clear, calm night, the stillness of a world that has entered into its daily rest works wonders for bringing rest to my own mind. While the tranquility of the world at night is enticing, and while the lack of external mental inputs is appealing, I have found the phenomenon of greatest interest in these times to be that of the moon. On some nights, it hangs gently, bathing the world in a soft resplendence that even brings to mind the blinding realities of the daytime. On other nights, however, it disappears deep into the darkness. While it still exerts its gravitational forces on our planet and still traverses its path among the stars, it remains indistinguishable from the blackness of the night around it.
The little details in these settings are sometimes the ones that hang around like a thorn in my proverbial paw: In the beginning, “God said, ‘Let there be lights in the expanse of the heavens to separate the day from the night. And let them be for signs and for seasons, and for days and years, and let them be lights in the expanse of the heavens to give light upon the earth.’ And it was so. And God made the two great lights—the greater light to rule the day and the lesser light to rule the night—and the stars. And God set them in the expanse of the heavens to give light on the earth, to rule over the day and over the night, and to separate the light from the darkness. And God saw that it was good. And there was evening and there was morning, the fourth day” (Genesis 1:14-19, ESV). My question resembles the following: How can the moon rule over the night when there are times it doesn’t shine? Probably even more importantly: How can God lead me on my way when I haven’t the slightest indication that He is there? How can I walk when there is no light?
A Psalm Written for a Dark Night
There is a Psalm that has become quite precious to me in these regards. King David said in it: “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” (Psalm 23, ESV).
Why did David feel it so important to write these lyrics? Notice he speaks to himself; he is therefore not teaching or bringing points of view to others for consideration. He speaks of God’s character in terms of abstract realities and refrains from listing specific events; he is therefore most likely not writing about a circumstance that has come and gone or a situation that has blown far away into the visibility of hindsight. Perhaps the most likely explanation for why he wrote these things is that he needed to remind himself of the truth when it didn’t seem so apparent anymore. In a dark place where it was hard to see where to go, he needed to remind himself that it wasn’t up to him to figure out where to go or how to get there but rather up to a God who had demonstrated time and again that He was a good shepherd, even if that shepherd seemed not to be around at the time.
The Key Word Is “Good”
I tend to find the idea of somebody else having that sort of control over my life repulsive. Over the years, I’ve noticed a large amount of this feeling has to do with trust – or, rather, a lack thereof – and what reason exists to withhold my trust other than the belief that the other person is not capable of doing what is right and good? I feel like, if I have control, then I can make sure that everything happens in its rightful order and remains in its rightful place. However, it is a lie practically as old as time to say that God is not good and not capable of doing such things; just like Adam and Eve before us, we have come to wonder if God is holding out on us, if He even remotely cares, and if the roads He sends us down are full of pain and heartache and tribulation with no viable explanation or purpose.
If we are honest with ourselves, there are some rather unsavory concepts in Psalm 23. David says that the Lord makes him lie down in green pastures – it is not a kind suggestion nor a loving plea but rather an order and directive. David also mentions that he at times walks in the valley of the shadow of death. Quite literally, death looms over him in this valley and casts a darkness with its shadow that cannot seem to be escaped. There are mentions of enemies and evil that oppose him, acknowledgements of discipline that can be uncomfortable and can seem unfair, and we know that there must be some reason why David seeks rest, provision, goodness, mercy, and the restoration of his soul.
David does not make the claim that the Lord will prevent him from encountering hardship in life nor does he stray away from the thought that the way through such hardship will likely not be an easy or comfortable one. David makes sure to remind himself, though, that God’s goodness will always manifest itself in a number of ways. The Lord gives him rest (the lying down and the still waters in verse 2, the restoration of his soul in verse 3). The Lord knows the best way forward for David and guides him in that way (the Lord being his shepherd in verse 1, His leading David in paths of righteousness in verse 3, and His use of the rod and staff in verse 4), and throughout it all, He makes sure to provide for David (the preparation of a table for David and his anointing with oil in verse 5 as well as his enjoyment of God’s house in verse 6). David says that he can take comfort in God’s protection (fearing no evil in verse 4) and that he can relax in God’s compassionate kindness (goodness and mercy in verse 6). Even when he cannot see it, David reminds himself that God is indeed good. He is trustworthy with David’s circumstances and powerful to control them. All David needs to do, he reminds himself, is submit to the shepherd and follow in the way as best he can.
God is not a merciless slave driver. He is not a cruel master. He does not put us through trials for His own amusement, and He does not ignore the rampant goings-on of this fallen world in order to satisfy His laziness. Walking the narrow road with Christ is challenging, and it’s a task that is levied on top of the regular and frequent hardships of life. Pondering this, I have often found myself praying, “Lord, I just want to come Home. Please just take me Home already.” How gracious is His constant response: “Where do you think we’re going, Thomas? This is the way we must take to get there.”
Let Him Do It
Sometimes we find ourselves in dark nights where the light of God shines through brightly enough to guide our way. We persevere with our faith strong, our dignity intact, and perhaps even our emotions mostly in order. We walk treacherous and unclear roads with all the wonderfulness of God in clear view, and while we find it difficult and painful, our perseverance seems sure. At other times, we may wrestle in vain against the darkness that comes to surround us. We may try to understand and outsmart the things of the darkness only to realize it’s awfully hard to see reality when there is nothing there to illuminate it. We may even cry out in that darkness, hoping that some amount of pity or sympathy will warrant its removal from our lives. Ultimately, though, we must come to realize that our ability to see God has no impact on His character. It might make the most sense, in that case, to submit to the shepherding of the One who rules over that same darkness, even if it means that darkness may remain and work the purposes He intended it to.
How can you know the way when it is dark? Wouldn’t you need somebody to guide you? Wouldn’t you want to know that whatever lies in the dark cannot overcome the Light that rules it (John 1:5), even if you can’t see the Light very well? It is not up to us to find our path through the darkness, and it is not our right to know every detail of God’s plan. Part of trusting in someone is not knowing how they are going to do something and still knowing they’re going to do it anyway. The Moon, though it disappears from our sight at times, faithfully performs its ordained duties – in similar fashion, the God who guides us, protects us, and loves us never changes and never fails to live up to His character. He lets the rain fall on the righteous and the unrighteous alike (Matthew 5:45), and yet, somehow, in the same strokes, He also makes all things work together for the good of those who love Him who are called according to His purposes (Romans 8:28). It is likely of no coincidence that, when the Moon disappears from our sight, it makes it all the easier to see the expanse of stars our Creator has put in the heavens to show we can trust Him. He is the good shepherd (John 10:11), so maybe it is time let Him lead.