day, for weeks on end, in solitary places. They learn the actions, habits, and preferences of their flock through constant oversight. They protect, feed, direct, and correct the sheep continually, developing a bond, perhaps even a love of their flock. Jesus says, “The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep” (John 10:11), something that David knew was part of his responsibilities as well. As a result, the sheep respond and are benefited. Without a shepherd they are lost, in danger, and unable to endure the realities of the wild. To think of the Lord as a shepherd is to come to understand the intensely personal, comforting, attentive, and providing nature of God’s love and care for his flock of humanity.
A first step on this journey of the Psalm 23 way of living is to confess that much of our resistance in placing our confidence (faith) in a Good Shepherd stems from the fear that God cannot or will not provide for us in times of great need or despair. Frequently this is a product of the belief that God simply is not good or that at least there are events on his “résumé” that put his character in question. This is often the tragic result of a significant trauma caused by bad theology; it simply should not stand. In fact, Psalm 23 speaks directly in opposition to such dismal theology. It is plainly foolhardy and oxymoronic to believe God is anything but perfectly good. The kingdoms of our world, including many religious kingdoms, run on doctrinal fear the way the kingdom of God runs on grace. Perfect love casts out fear, as will the love of a good shepherd. This image, of the Good Shepherd as Jesus describes him, is a far cry from the sort of vengeful, red-eyed, wrath-soaked Zeuslike deity popular with some. There is simply no reason to believe anything bad about God.
I SHALL NOT WANT
The sheep of the flock are at peace, never lacking or left wanting any good thing. Why? Because they know their shepherd can be trusted to provide all that they need. Fear is gone, needs satisfied, peace abounds.
In a consumer-driven society where newer and greater desires are both created and fed by increasingly clever advertisers and suppliers, it would do our own souls well, and by implication benefit our societies immensely, to meditate deeply on what our personal and social lives might be like if we were to experience the total absence of superficial want. Can we envision being free of want? Can we conceive of a place where the question, “How much is enough?” is thought as absurd as the answer, “A little bit more”?
What the Good Shepherd provides is of inestimable value and eternal quality, of the type whose value moths and rust can’t diminish (Matt. 16:9). The Good Shepherd provides an understanding of what is essential and what is tertiary, what real needs are compared to artificial desires. What kinds of economies would we have today if we focused on essential needs first? How much debt would we incur if we realized our sufficiency and abundance in Christ? These are but a few of the key questions Psalm 23 brings to the fore.
He makes me lie down in green pastures;
he leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul.
Living under the care of the Shepherd provides a state of rest, or shalom, which involves plenteousness and brings restoration at the deep wellspring of our lives. Such rich and abiding rest replenishes our entire being or soul. It is the nature of the Good Shepherd to be good and to lead his sheep onto good paths, where what is good can be seen, experienced, demonstrated, and duplicated. These are the right paths and true ways of righteousness.
I FEAR NO EVIL
Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
I fear no evil; for you are with me;
your rod and your staff—they comfort me.
Such goodness, provision, protection, soul care, restoration, righteousness, and flourishing that life with the Shepherd provides allows us to face shadowy dangers and uncertainties that threaten life. We can live without fear. Living without fear is, in fact, the same existential reality as living a life without want.
Can we envision being freed to the point where not a single thing on earth, above the earth, or below the earth could cause dread to creep into our hearts? Can we begin to imagine what living a life free from the plagues of worry, anxiety, and dread would demonstrate to a world whose societal engines are stoked day and night by media franchises devoted to peddling fear and anxiety?
Why does fear play such an oversized role in our lives and our culture? What exactly are we afraid of? Well, the list is long. We are afraid we will not be happy, that we will not flourish unless we take the proper offensive and defensive positions necessary to protect ourselves and provide for every possible existential need, both real and perceived. Our search for safety and contentment is endless and inexhaustible precisely because of the intrinsic futility of relying on human abilities to provide resolution to our problems. Thus, if telling the truth on a mortgage application or quarterly report, forgiving a family member or neighbor an offense, or giving time or money to an organization from our stockpile of resources is perceived to put us or our pursuit of our individual version of the American dream in jeopardy, our moral compass is adjusted to justify our own sense of self-fulfillment, pleasure, or even security. The result is one more brick of our lives laid on a foundation of shifting sand.
It only becomes a matter of when, not if, such a life and such a civilization will implode. The mental and emotional energy required for rushing about in the vain attempt to control the uncontrollable in order to preserve what tiny sense of security we can is an exhausting and deadening errand. The effort reveals a total lack of understanding of our Shepherd, his nature, the structure of the universe God created, and the ethos of his kingdom. Without such a vision generation after generation continues the desperate search for that elusive guarantee of holistic flourishing. And our social and political ineffectiveness continues to fuel the rage and shame of unrealized desire, which continues to fill our hospitals, prisons, and morgues with stories of cataclysmic sorrow and tragic despair. One sociologist has suggested that adults today represent the most numb, obese, addicted, medicated, and indebted generation in American history.1
The human problem has no human solution, because it is humans that are the source of the problem. We need a Shepherd.
GOODNESS AND MERCY SHALL FOLLOW 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 my whole life long.
Such a Shepherd comes to the weary and burdened to whisper hope in their ears: “My dear little children: Really, truly, love one another. That’s the big idea. When you do this, it will answer all your deepest questions and solve all your biggest problems. I’ve designed it that way” (1 John 3:18–20, paraphrased). Our point of breakdown is an opportunity to break through toward a new life. We must begin to imagine a new way of being. Green pastures, calm waters, restoration, safety, security, and provision—this is the life we all long for and seek, and it is exactly what Jesus came to provide. The Good Shepherd corrects all the gaps in our vision for life and fills the voids of our understanding of God’s provision right now, where the rubber hits the road of our daily lives.
Ironically, the prophet Habakkuk makes the same claim, but from a different vantage point. He writes of God’s sufficiency exactly at a time when he and the nation of Israel had been overrun by their enemies. These cataclysmic events at the end of the seventh century BCE left many Israelites’ lives shattered. Not unlike the kinds of scenes we have witnessed during the many Middle Eastern conflicts through the centuries, Habakkuk saw the trauma caused by rapid political change, social turmoil, deadly military engagements, and endless rebellion.2 In this cacophony of conflict Habakkuk reminds the people whence their hope springs:
Though the fig tree does not blossom,
and no fruit is on the vines;
though the produce of the olive fails,
and the fields yield no food;
though