Month: September 2020

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Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of evil, You are with me.  Psalm 23:4

Of all evils we witness, the most frightening one is death.  As believers in Jesus, we don’t fear our final destination but the process of getting there.  The process is unknown and no one can come back to tell us what it was like except Jesus and He discloses two important things about it.  1.) He defeated it by walking out of the grave.  2.) And, He will go with us as we experience it.  Jesus understands every nuance and subtlety.  He didn’t collapse from a heart attack; He endured the slow process in the most horrific way possible.  

The ultimate reason death can be frightening is because death is the final curse and evil’s last performance.  When God created us, He didn’t equip us with the ability to understand and cope with its atrocities.  He made us for the Garden, for a world of perfection, but the sin of Adam forever opened our eyes to the vast chasm of evil and the breadth of it shuts us down.  We try to make sense of it and that’s why we end up calling it ‘senseless’.  We take what we witnessed, turn it over and over in our psyche, but are never able to grasp it because we weren’t wired to.  

Jon Bloom covers it best in one short article.  After reading it last year, I decided that I would never need to read anything else on the subject of evil and suffering.  Here is the link if you are interested.

As the perfect High Priest, Jesus’ intimacy with the final curse is a lifeline.  He’s not a cosmic scientist who describes it from a distance.  He’s the suffering Savior who, by choice, walked into the valley of the shadow to secure my own salvation from eternal death.  He’s the gentle shepherd who walks with me through the unknown and He’s also the Victor who opens the door on the other side to life everlasting.  

He doesn’t just wait for me on the other side ~ no, He takes me there by the hand.

So many bail out on us in our darkest times, You only draw closer.  Oh Jesus, your final display of faithfulness will be showcased in my final hours.  Amen

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Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will feel no evil, for you are with me. Psalm 23:4a

The definition of a shadow is an image cast by an object.  The word doesn’t usually bring warm feelings.  Someone hiding in the shadows is a person with a questionable agenda.  Someone afraid of their own shadow is a poor soul gripped by shyness.  Someone who sees shadows in the night is one who sleeps lightly.  And then there’s this phrase in the 23^rd Psalm, ‘Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…’ 

While the topic of shadows makes us think of something foreboding, and while there’s nothing more frightening than the thought of the shadow of death, God’s shadow eclipses all darkness.  Our faith rests in these scriptures.

I am concealed in the shadow of God’s hand.  Isaiah 49:2

I dwell in the shadow of the Almighty.  Psalm 91:1

And, I take refuge in the shadow of my Father’s wings.  Psalm 36:7 

God is also described as One who casts a shadow. His presence shadows His children ~ going with them wherever they go. Psalm 121:5

If I am in Christ, I am overshadowed when the Spirit conceives something holy, heals something broken, prepares something yet unformed, and draws near to guide His child home.  If you, or someone you love, is sorrowing because the shadow of death has touched your family, know that you are ‘over’ – shadowed.

I am overshadowed by Your Spirit, even when I walk through darkness. You take me home safely to the place where there is no more night.   Amen

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He leads me in paths of righteousness . . . Psalm 23:4a

The beauty of walking slowly through a passage is being able to look at every little thing as if it were a new gift to unwrap.  As someone well-seasoned in Bible study, I can just assume (especially if I can recite the 23’rd Psalm from memory) that I understand a phrase like ‘paths of righteousness.’  I don’t and I’m still learning.   

I have often asked, and perhaps you also voice these questions ~ “Why does God make it so hard?  Since He promises to lead, and since He tells me that I am a sheep who cannot find my way on my own, why not speak louder so that the path is unmistakable?”

God is all about growing me up into the stature and maturity of His Son.  If I can take God by the hand and not have to think for myself at all, isn’t this the stuff of toddlerhood? Infant faith begins with this kind of baby steps but mature faith encompasses the ability to engage my intellectual faculties to the glory of God. 

“Those who are skittish when it comes to rigorous study, deep thinking, and theological precision have wanted us to believe that our problem is the mind, when in fact it’s the flesh.”  Sam Storms

I must learn to train my mind, to know how to build precept upon precept, in the artful ways of wisdom.  Sound decisions are, more often than not, made by a student of the Word who has set out to learn the mind of God, through Scripture, with abject humility.  

Yes, great knowledge presents a temptation to be proud but it is not knowledge that is the enemy.  It is my pride.  Paths of righteousness are ever before me.  God makes them clear for every level of spiritual development.  Milk for the babes; meat for the mature.  And, in that light, I can know that God will grant me the humility to listen, the grace to obey, but He also encourages every intellectual pursuit to be harnessed to the truth of the Scriptures.

I can be lazy and want to be led like a baby.  Forgive me.  Amen

He leads me beside still waters.  Psalm 23:2b

From all my years of traveling and fighting the noise in hotels at night, a sound machine is my answer for getting to sleep.  I like the gentle water sounds especially.  They are conducive to resting. 

That is why God promises to lead His children beside still waters. In Hebrew, the words for ‘still waters’ are “mai menochot”, meaning restful waters. They flow slowly and calmly, bringing peace to a person’s spirit. 

I have a cat named Geoffrey.  He loves to drink from the faucet.  He sits and stares at it until you notice him.  He’s high strung. The stream has to be just right or he won’t take a drink no matter how thirsty he is.  If I turn it on a full stream, forget it.  If it just drips, he’s annoyed and just sits there.  He waits for the perfect slow stream to take his drink.  Still waters – even for cats. 

Every living thing needs water to live.  Sheep, before they repose and graze in God’s hand-picked pastures must first quench their thirst.  

Jesus spoke to the Samaritan woman in the Gospel of John about water.  He said that it was possible to take the kind of drink where she would never again be thirsty.  At first, she confused His message with tangible water since they were sitting at a well.  But His message was about spiritual water, revealing that the drink He was talking about would save her soul, not her body. 

The message and its implications were earth shattering.  “It is possible to drink from Me in such a way that you will never again believe you have to have the love of a man to live. Your life will no more depend on fickle sources of water.”  

This woman drank and was filled with the love of Christ.  Her soul, thriving in an instant, ran to tell of the One who forever changed her appetites.  Perhaps, even though she was a Samaritan, she knew the invitation from Isaiah 55:1 Everyone who thirsts, come to the water.  At first, she was unaware of her deep thirst. Spiritually, she was dangerously dehydrated and had passed the point of thirst.  Only as Jesus talked with her and pinpointed her need did her heart come alive enough to recognize her need. 

“Go call your husband,” Jesus said. Beside still waters, much happens.  We engage in a way that normal life makes impossible.  We listen, quiet ourselves, and ponder.  In the stillness, the Shepherd speaks, unearths our great need, and offers Living Water.  He is the water.  A contagious testimony is born.  

You’ve transformed my needs to my need for One.  Amen

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He makes me lie down in green pastures. Psalm 23:2

God ‘makes me’ lie down in green pastures. That sounds like it’s done by force against my wishes. It’s not like that! The picture is one of a shepherd who gently leads and this corresponds with the beautiful picture painted by Isaiah.

He shall feed his flock like a shepherd: he shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with young.   Isaiah 40:11  

The little Shepherd who napped in the manger would be the One who would call Himself the Shepherd. Pretty amazing as I sit here thinking about it because the One David addressed as Shepherd in Psalm 23 was God Himself. And yet, Jesus will define Himself as the shepherd of the sheep all throughout the book of John. How do the two tie together?

When David wrote Psalm 23, Jesus resided in the Trinity and was one with God in caring for the sheep of Israel. But because of Incarnation, the Shepherd became one who needed a Shepherd. The Shepherd became the sheep. He had to learn how to live out the lessons in the 23’rd Psalm so that He could become a Shepherd who was touched with our infirmities.

Little boy Jesus discovered that the world was not a place to lay his head in peace. Mary was probably the first who, by example, taught Jesus to run to Father God for spiritual rest and refreshing. Chaos and intimidation ruled the Roman Empire, and their personal lives, and Jesus could feel His people’s corporate anxiety having to dwell under the umbrella of brutes like Caesar Augustus and the Emperor Tiberius. Any resting of the soul would have to come from a spiritual resting place, the kind only His Heavenly Father provided.

Just like us, Jesus depended on the shepherding of Yahweh. In His DNA, did He have any recollection of being the Shepherd of Israel? We don’t know. But one thing is for sure ~ Jesus personally experienced the perfection of God’s green pastures amidst the imperfections of earth’s dwelling places. God’s food sustained Him through more trials than we’ll ever face. Without it, He would not have the wisdom, strength, and stamina to finish the course.

Every one of us has a deep desire to be known by One who loves us. Because we were made to be intimate, our soul strains to be under the care of someone who can see the expanse of our lives; One who has the power to shape an environment where we can thrive. 

You are my perfect Shepherd. Amen

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I shall not want. Psalm 23:1b

The Christian life is a steep climb.  Every plateau is a new level of understanding.  The once simple, sing-song recitations of scripture and cliches take on new dimensions that are both stunning and staggering.  Such is the case with ‘I shall not want.’  

I’m doing what I love to do about more than anything right at this minute.  It’s 2:00 a.m.  The remnant of Hurricane Sally is roaring through Georgia.  I’m sitting on my porch, the wind is kicking up, the low Corinthian bells are ringing outside my window, and I am talking to Jesus at length.  “Come sit with me and let’s listen to the rain,” I say.  “Teach me something.”   These mid-night rendezvous’ are precious to me.  And then the thoughts start coming.  I’m instantly taken to the next part of Psalm 23.  

How many times have I had false expectations of God because of this verse!  I’ve surmised that the ‘fix it’ God has promised that whatever I think I need, He’ll provide.  I’ll never be hungry, penniless, jobless.  I shall not want because God promised, right?

I consider the admissions of my spiritual forefathers.  

We are pressed on every side… 2 Corinthians 4:8

For your sake, we are being killed all day long…Romans 8:36

All who desire to live godly in Christ Jesus will suffer persecution…2 Timothy 3:11

Persecuted I shall be as well.  Yet, I shall not want.  I’ll be hungry at some point.  Yet, I shall not want.  Strung out and under pressure?  Oh yes.  Yet, I shall not want.  

What is it that is promised here if not a fix to my circumstances?  I must go back to the phrase before this.  The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.    

I will not want for a shepherd.   

He is a constant companion who dispenses inordinate amounts of grace according to my need.  I may walk with a ‘thorn in the flesh’ but ‘I will not want’ for the grace to bear it.  I enjoy the faithfulness of a Savior who does not forsake me no matter what I suffer.  He does not leave me wanting, ever, for a friendship that is as intimate as I need it to be.  The capacity of its depths is up to me, not Him.  He’s already given His whole heart (and inheritance) but it’s me who must keep opening doors to trust and abide. 

For me, in Athens, GA tonight, the rain is welcome and the wind is mild.  Jesus’ companionship is free and easy but not necessarily life-saving.  But in Alabama, the same rain and wind has decimated the homes and businesses of other believers.  Jesus, their Shepherd, was called upon for strength and grit, for direction to know how to move forward while temporarily homeless.  He is doing what a Shepherd does.  He is guiding.  He is dispensing grace.  The Psalm rings true for them tonight, too.  ‘I shall not want,’ they recite in the darkness.   Even through their tears. 

Life isn’t fixed yet but my need for a Savior and constant Friend is.  No matter what may come – I shall not want.  Amen

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The Lord is my shepherd. Psalm 23:1

In the daytime, sheep are put out to pasture.  They graze, nap in the sun, even play.  At nighttime, they go back into the sheepfold to sleep in safety. Day after day, and night after night, their way of life is unchanged.  Their familiar routine offers security, abundance, and relationship.

The rhythm of a Christian’s life, the person who knows Jesus, should also be one of resting, grazing, and working.

• When threatened by wild animals, I run back to my shepherd, and to the safety of the fold.  My heart may be beating wildly but nothing can hurt me outside of His will if I stick close to Him.  Restorative rest is a promise He gives me.
• When following the Shepherd, I enjoy abundant spiritual food.  The Word of God is a pasture, always green.  It must surely resemble the lush green landscapes of New Zealand, the most beautiful countryside I have ever seen.  Take a back country road and what you see around every turn is another pasture of sheep.  Each view is a postcard.  The food Jesus provides for me, meditatively and instructively, is the likings of the finest pastures.
• When I have eaten sufficiently, work awaits.  The work is not abusive.  It is not laden with high expectations without the foundation of proper nourishment and proper equipping.  The shepherd has given me both.  He has fed me, He has tutored me, and He has trained me.  My work is the culmination of His promise.  “My yoke is easy and my burden is light.”  Work in the context of a relationship is the key to a joyous calling.

When this rhythm exists, the rest of the Psalm makes sense.

Your pastures are so green and satisfying, Jesus.  I have rested, I have eaten, and now I will work.  In Jesus name, Amen

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The Lord is my shepherd.  Psalm 23:1

Shepherding was a common occupation for those in the Middle East. The Patriarchs were all shepherds, as was Moses and, of course, David. The terrain and geography of the area lent itself to the raising of sheep. Everyone was familiar with shepherding so no wonder God used it so often in the writing of the Scriptures.  The people to whom they were first written had a working knowledge of the concept.

But here’s the thing ~ The motif of shepherds as leaders is not exclusive to the Bible. King Hammurabi of Babylon called himself a shepherd.  Homer, in his writing, refers to Greek chiefs as shepherds of their people. The royal staff, or scepter, a common accessory for kings in the Ancient Near East, was itself a form of shepherd’s rod. Shepherds commonly used long poles such as these to poke around crevices in caves to scare out scorpions and snakes. It came to be a symbol of protection, power and authority. Even in Egypt, a divine symbol of kingship was the shepherd’s crook.

However, God wants us to know, since we understand shepherding, that He is the ultimate Shepherd.  With the perfection of His shepherding, He takes this concept to a level not present in any other cultures.  It makes sense that God would ask this question in Jer. 49:19. 

Who is like me and who can challenge me? And what shepherd can stand against me?”

As righteous a ruler as King David, his shepherding of Israel was imperfect.  As successful a president as Abraham Lincoln, his shepherding was imperfect.  As loving a father as you and I may have had growing up, their shepherding was imperfect.  Shepherds are flawed human beings, products of the fall.  The sting of their failures to guide, protect, and care for us can be devasting.  At some point, they will fail to guide; they will lead us astray.  At some point, they will fail to protect; the result is a loss of innocence.  At some point, they will fail to care for us; our needs will go unnoticed or even worse, they will be ignored.  The result is a rejection so deep that only God can heal it.

The Lord is my shepherd.  The Lord is your shepherd.  One of the great proclamations of the God of Israel is this ~ I am God and there is no other.  Today, I lift up my hands and worship with this prayer ~  

You are my Shepherd and there is no other.  You saved me from wolves. You added me to Your flock.  Now, with Your staff, You guide me to perfect pastures.  Amen