The Valley of the Shadow
Text: Psalm 23
This morning, we sang the words of the well-known 23rd Psalm. This passage of Scripture is probably the best known, most loved, and most quoted portion of the entire Bible. It is so familiar that people who seldom go to church or read the Bible can often quote a portion of it. It has great meaning because it conveys that sense of peace and comfort, especially in times of grief, trials and death. Something that we have experienced first-hand this past week.
Times of trial come to all of us. Baseball player Roy Campanella was in an accident that left him a semi-invalid. In his autobiography he talks about the many nights he cried himself to sleep, about the pain that racked his body and his sinking into deep depression. He writes, “All my life whenever I was in trouble, I had turned to God for help. Remembering this, I opened by Bible to the 23rd Psalm and read: `Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me.’ From that moment on”, he wrote, “I was on my way back. I knew I was going to make it!” His story is just one of many of how this simple Psalm has given the comfort, strength, and assurance to people that they are going to make it!
Psalm 23 not only gives comfort to those who face trials or are dying, it also gives courage, strength, and hope to those who are alive. We hear: “The Lord is my shepherd.... He makes me lie down in green pastures.... He leads me by still water.... He leads me in paths of righteousness.” For us, the images evoke our God as shepherd. Even our Gospel reading has Jesus identifying himself as the Good Shepherd. The shepherd is the Lord. And, of course, we are the sheep.
Part of the reason I think so many of us know the 23rd Psalm by heart is because of its idyllic images of the sheep not needing anything. They spend their days lying in green pastures. They wander beside quiet, placid lakes and walk along straight paths. The rod and staff of the shepherd protect the sheep and a pleasant ‘table’ awaits them when they are hungry.
It is a pastoral, rural scene - until we notice that the paths of righteousness could also mean the ways of justice. Or until we notice that the table spread with abundant food also happens to be surrounded by enemies. Or until we notice that the poem also talks about walking fearlessly through valleys that are like night, filled with deep shadows. Then the scene takes on a darker cast and is no longer quite so pleasant to contemplate. The sheep in the psalm become more complicated creatures. They have a double consciousness: they believe in the shepherd’s providence, but that belief does not blind them to the terrors that await them along the ways of justice. It begins to look more like radical trust that blind obedience. Perhaps the idea of being ‘sheep’ isn’t so bad after all.
The psalmist writes: “The Lord is my shepherd.”... However, now the sheep are in the Valley of the Shadow of Death. And I have always wondered - How did the sheep get there? But when I stop to think about it, we have to assume that the Good Shepherd has led the sheep into the valley.
Tradition tells us that the Valley of the Shadow of Death is a real place in ancient Israel… or perhaps represents a few possible places in that rugged landscape. It is a valley, or a mountain pass, that got its name from shepherds because of its steep sides and sheer rock walls. But it was a pass that enabled the shepherds to lead their sheep from one mountain pasture to another. However it was a terrifying place for skittish, defenceless, fearful sheep: for in the steep cliffs on both sides of the valley there were numerous caves and rocks and crevices that were perfect hiding place for animals of prey - and for people who meant harm to passing travellers. Sounds would echo and amplify in the valley, making it a terrifying place for sheep.
For us, the Valley of the Shadow of Death is those terrifying, dark, lonely, frightening times in life - times of sickness, tragedy, emotional stress, tension, economic disaster, loneliness, when God may seem far away. However, it is important to remember that it is the Good Shepherd who leads the sheep into the Valley of the Shadow of Death. We are not alone. The shepherd has a purpose: The shepherd takes the sheep from pastures that are now eaten up and barren, where food is scarce and the land is parched, to new lush, green meadows. But to get there, the shepherd and the sheep have to pass through the valley.
The sheep don’t understand this. The sheep cannot comprehend the purposes of the shepherd. All that the sheep experience are the frightening, terrifying surroundings. The shepherd knows. The shepherd has a reason, a purpose. And the sheep have learned to trust the shepherd.
As Jesus said, “My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand.” As sheep, we have grown to trust the shepherd. The shepherd has proven trustworthy and so the sheep follow the shepherd even through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, “fearing no evil.”
Another thing to note with this psalm is that there is a world of difference between death and the shadow of death. The shadow may be frightening, dark, and cold, but they are just shadows, not the real thing.
The promise and hope of Easter is that we will never truly die. The shadows may be fearful, but we can never be separated from the love of God that we have through Jesus Christ. Yes, there will be those times when we experience the valley of the shadow of death; times when we might feel forsaken, abandoned, alone, rejected; those troubled times when we may wonder where God is. The valley of the shadow of death may be those times when we feel forsaken, but by faith we know that we are not. We have both God’s promise, and the experience of God’s grace and love for us throughout the past.
When we are in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, we may feel as if God is far away, but deep down inside we can know that God is very near. God promises us life - life in this world, and life in the world to come. We believe that death doesn’t have the final say over who we are… that in Christ, death has lost its finality and power.
But as long as we live in this world of sin and suffering, we will experience the shadow of death. And that can be a terrifying experience for us. At those times, is it is helpful to recall how the Good Shepherd is leading us to green pastures where he will restore our souls. To remember that Christ is preparing a table for us - a table that contains the bread of heaven and the wine of everlasting and abundant joy. Listen to the voice of the shepherd when we find ourselves in the valley of the shadow of death… that radical trust. Listen and know that God is still there to comfort us:
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for you, O Lord, are with me. Your rod and your staff comfort me. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life. And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
Thanks be to God! Amen.
Sermon written by my wife, The Rev. Sarah Fanning, I preached this with some slight contextual adaptations.
This morning, we sang the words of the well-known 23rd Psalm. This passage of Scripture is probably the best known, most loved, and most quoted portion of the entire Bible. It is so familiar that people who seldom go to church or read the Bible can often quote a portion of it. It has great meaning because it conveys that sense of peace and comfort, especially in times of grief, trials and death. Something that we have experienced first-hand this past week.
Times of trial come to all of us. Baseball player Roy Campanella was in an accident that left him a semi-invalid. In his autobiography he talks about the many nights he cried himself to sleep, about the pain that racked his body and his sinking into deep depression. He writes, “All my life whenever I was in trouble, I had turned to God for help. Remembering this, I opened by Bible to the 23rd Psalm and read: `Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me.’ From that moment on”, he wrote, “I was on my way back. I knew I was going to make it!” His story is just one of many of how this simple Psalm has given the comfort, strength, and assurance to people that they are going to make it!
Psalm 23 not only gives comfort to those who face trials or are dying, it also gives courage, strength, and hope to those who are alive. We hear: “The Lord is my shepherd.... He makes me lie down in green pastures.... He leads me by still water.... He leads me in paths of righteousness.” For us, the images evoke our God as shepherd. Even our Gospel reading has Jesus identifying himself as the Good Shepherd. The shepherd is the Lord. And, of course, we are the sheep.
Part of the reason I think so many of us know the 23rd Psalm by heart is because of its idyllic images of the sheep not needing anything. They spend their days lying in green pastures. They wander beside quiet, placid lakes and walk along straight paths. The rod and staff of the shepherd protect the sheep and a pleasant ‘table’ awaits them when they are hungry.
It is a pastoral, rural scene - until we notice that the paths of righteousness could also mean the ways of justice. Or until we notice that the table spread with abundant food also happens to be surrounded by enemies. Or until we notice that the poem also talks about walking fearlessly through valleys that are like night, filled with deep shadows. Then the scene takes on a darker cast and is no longer quite so pleasant to contemplate. The sheep in the psalm become more complicated creatures. They have a double consciousness: they believe in the shepherd’s providence, but that belief does not blind them to the terrors that await them along the ways of justice. It begins to look more like radical trust that blind obedience. Perhaps the idea of being ‘sheep’ isn’t so bad after all.
The psalmist writes: “The Lord is my shepherd.”... However, now the sheep are in the Valley of the Shadow of Death. And I have always wondered - How did the sheep get there? But when I stop to think about it, we have to assume that the Good Shepherd has led the sheep into the valley.
Tradition tells us that the Valley of the Shadow of Death is a real place in ancient Israel… or perhaps represents a few possible places in that rugged landscape. It is a valley, or a mountain pass, that got its name from shepherds because of its steep sides and sheer rock walls. But it was a pass that enabled the shepherds to lead their sheep from one mountain pasture to another. However it was a terrifying place for skittish, defenceless, fearful sheep: for in the steep cliffs on both sides of the valley there were numerous caves and rocks and crevices that were perfect hiding place for animals of prey - and for people who meant harm to passing travellers. Sounds would echo and amplify in the valley, making it a terrifying place for sheep.
For us, the Valley of the Shadow of Death is those terrifying, dark, lonely, frightening times in life - times of sickness, tragedy, emotional stress, tension, economic disaster, loneliness, when God may seem far away. However, it is important to remember that it is the Good Shepherd who leads the sheep into the Valley of the Shadow of Death. We are not alone. The shepherd has a purpose: The shepherd takes the sheep from pastures that are now eaten up and barren, where food is scarce and the land is parched, to new lush, green meadows. But to get there, the shepherd and the sheep have to pass through the valley.
The sheep don’t understand this. The sheep cannot comprehend the purposes of the shepherd. All that the sheep experience are the frightening, terrifying surroundings. The shepherd knows. The shepherd has a reason, a purpose. And the sheep have learned to trust the shepherd.
As Jesus said, “My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand.” As sheep, we have grown to trust the shepherd. The shepherd has proven trustworthy and so the sheep follow the shepherd even through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, “fearing no evil.”
Another thing to note with this psalm is that there is a world of difference between death and the shadow of death. The shadow may be frightening, dark, and cold, but they are just shadows, not the real thing.
The promise and hope of Easter is that we will never truly die. The shadows may be fearful, but we can never be separated from the love of God that we have through Jesus Christ. Yes, there will be those times when we experience the valley of the shadow of death; times when we might feel forsaken, abandoned, alone, rejected; those troubled times when we may wonder where God is. The valley of the shadow of death may be those times when we feel forsaken, but by faith we know that we are not. We have both God’s promise, and the experience of God’s grace and love for us throughout the past.
When we are in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, we may feel as if God is far away, but deep down inside we can know that God is very near. God promises us life - life in this world, and life in the world to come. We believe that death doesn’t have the final say over who we are… that in Christ, death has lost its finality and power.
But as long as we live in this world of sin and suffering, we will experience the shadow of death. And that can be a terrifying experience for us. At those times, is it is helpful to recall how the Good Shepherd is leading us to green pastures where he will restore our souls. To remember that Christ is preparing a table for us - a table that contains the bread of heaven and the wine of everlasting and abundant joy. Listen to the voice of the shepherd when we find ourselves in the valley of the shadow of death… that radical trust. Listen and know that God is still there to comfort us:
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for you, O Lord, are with me. Your rod and your staff comfort me. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life. And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
Thanks be to God! Amen.
Sermon written by my wife, The Rev. Sarah Fanning, I preached this with some slight contextual adaptations.
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