The LORD is my shepherd…
Two words in the Hebrew, yet due to their poetic and metaphorical power, they hold multitudes, they take truth’s ray and, like a prism, split it up into a disco ball--rainbow of light…
rough common images and
sustaining devotion and
ecstatic delight and
divine promise!
Let us pray
The Lord is my shepherd.
A common sight.
When I was in Jericho on a tour, we were all loading our suitcases into the lower storage section of the bus, and there,
between us and the Mount of Temptation,
in an abandoned parking lot,
was a herd of animals,
dry dyed an orange-red by the dust.
If you looked carefully some of the rugged animal were sheep,
some goats,
and even a few rough sheep dogs.
A common sight, we were told
—the flock belonging to Bedouin shepherds.
Just something to see after breakfast
—as common as a car or Starbucks or gas station.
Shepherds and sheep dogs protecting the sheep
from the wolves and wild dogs… protecting the flock from pack hunters that would pick off the weakest and scatter the rest. Bedouin shepherds standing between danger and the most vulnerable.
Shepherds restoring their flock with rest,
comforting with protective presence,
bringing the flock home.
The LORD is my shepherd
—the whole psalm pointing to pilgrimage
—the journey that the faithful take from their home to the Temple in Jerusalem.
-Through the ups and downs, hills and highways,
-darkest valleys packed with robbers ready for ambush
-and eventually the cleansing welcome of anointing
-and feasting
-and the holy fellowship,
-worshipping at the LORD’s house, returning
festival after festival,
sustained by both the journey and the destination.
Perhaps something in the practice of pilgrimage
transforms the pilgrim from someone who simply hears about the LORD
transforms the pilgrim into someone who can say to God, “You are with me!”
“Surely,” the poet says, seeing the pilgrim throng, crowded together along the way
—“surely the LORD is their shepherd, the shepherd of these sheep traveling to the temple.”
The LORD is my shepherd
—“surely too,” the poet quickly adds, “such a journey is something more
—is not our whole life a pilgrimage?”
Filled with joy and Holy presence,
pasture rest
and paths that surely are gifts from God.
And dangers too!
There are shadowy spaces,
where the worst of it lurks,
yet take comfort, even there… God is there!
There too in jubilation and good meals together
and isn’t God pursuing us with grace all of our days,
to the end and even beyond the end!
The LORD is my shepherd
—something confirmed by many lives
—but especially the life of a Blind man whom Jesus healed.
You see—John’s Gospel has this rhythm to it,
miracle and explanation,
miracle and explanation,
often times pointing to Jesus’ actions and person
echoing and shaped by God’s actions in Hebrew Scripture…
“I Am the Good Shepherd” most certainly echoes “The LORD is my shepherd.”
It is an explanation of Jesus’ healing of a man blind from birth (go back to chapter 9);
A man unaided by the religious authorities,
declared a sinner on account of his blindness,
then later persecuted by them, hounded,
even his parents, hounded
hounded for an explanation of his life transformed.
“I Am the Good Shepherd” Jesus explains, giving his own poetic interpretation of Psalm 23.
Many find themselves on the outs
—kept out even
—from the flock…
yes, some could give it all away and become Essenes,
ascetics off in the Dead Sea waiting for an angelic apocalypse.
yes, some could become Sadducees,
provided they had the proper lineage and close connections to the temple establishment.
Yes, some could become Pharisees,
managing their dining room table as an altar to God, with a keen eye on purity…
But for the majority
—for so many people
—they just didn’t fit…
worse still…
often they were pushed out…
Blind or lame,
leper or of the wrong race or ethnicity,
impure for one reason or another,
impoverished,
a sinner,
a collaborator,
a person just trying to get by, but not doing it right…
pushed out of the flock…
The vulnerable, and those made vulnerable by their exclusion…
But he is a good shepherd…
Society may have left them to death’s valley.
Society might have said “its survival of the fittest”
and pushed the most vulnerable to the wolves to save themselves…
But Jesus
He’s a good shepherd
—he echoes the 23rd Psalm.
Just as he heals the blind man
and finds him after he’s been driven out
and bestows upon him goodness and mercy…
So too the Good Shepherd will lay down his life for these vulnerable ones
—these tossed away ones,
these excluded ones
these driven out ones
“You are with me! You comfort me!”
He enters the valley of the shadow of death with them,
with us,
calling still,
knowing them even when they don’t know themselves,
refusing to let go even after he’s let go of his final breath.
He holds us fast,
nothing can rip us away from his gentle and strong hands.
Hands that hang from a cross
and are shown to his friends on the other side of the grave.
We shall not be ripped away from him!
The LORD is my shepherd. A simple enough symbol, common and plain.
The LORD is my shepherd. Along the way with every pilgrim, drawn to God’s home again and again.
The LORD is my shepherd. From valley to temple mount, our whole life long.
The LORD is my shepherd. The Good Shepherd Jesus, who lays down his life for the vulnerable.
The LORD is my shepherd. A+A
