Green Pastures, Still Waters, and the Good Shepherd
Not only is Psalm 23 the world’s favorite psalm, but it is arguably the most familiar and most quoted scripture in all of canonized writ. Its opening line—for all intents and purposes its title—must surely rank among the most readily identified phrases in the English language. Furthermore, quite apart from the theology expressed, it is acknowledged to be one of the most beautiful song-poems ever written. It is beloved of Christians and Jews, young and old, believers and nonbelievers, the sure and the uncertain. If someone is going to memorize a full, albeit short, chapter of scripture, it will likely be this one.
What is there in this passage that is so compelling and so comforting to such a wide variety of readers? As one gifted Jewish rabbi has said (after decades of studying the psalms):
“In a mere fifty-seven words of Hebrew and just about twice that number in English translation, the author of the Twenty-third Psalm gives us . . . a more practical theology than we can find in many books. . . . If we are anxious, the psalm gives us courage and we overcome our fears. If we are grieving, it offers comfort and we find our way through the valley of the shadow [of death]. If our lives are embittered by unpleasant people, it teaches us how to deal with them. If the world threatens to wear us down, the psalm guides us to replenish our souls. If we are obsessed with what we lack, it teaches us gratitude for what we have. And most of all, if we feel alone and adrift in a friendless world, it offers us the priceless reassurance that ‘Thou art with me.’”261
For the Hebraic tradition, the use of sheep and shepherds in this psalm is probably the most readily identifiable imagery that could have been employed. Sheep were everywhere in the biblical world and they are everywhere in the scriptures. Job owned 14,000 sheep. King Solomon sacrificed 120,000 sheep at the dedication of the temple he built. Parables about or principles pertaining to sheep and shepherding are some of the most common teaching metaphors in the scriptures and, not surprisingly, a frequently recurring motif in the earliest Christian art. The portrayal of a youthful shepherd carrying a sheep on his shoulders in the Old Testament prefigures Christ-as-Shepherd in the New. Such sheep-related types and shadows of salvation permeate the sacred records clear back to Adam and Eve. Upon being cast out of the Garden of Eden, Adam was immediately taught regarding the Atonement of Jesus Christ and the saving symbolism of the Lamb of God—not only the first but presumably the most important truth he could receive in mortality. Cain and Abel brought fratricide into the world in an argument over the sacrifice of a sheep versus the offering of a less symbolic gift.262
Against that ancient backdrop of mortality, sacrifice, and a variety of trouble, the twenty-third psalm has universal appeal in the comfort it gives to those who have faced—or are still facing—these trials and tribulations of life. As someone only half humorously said, this psalm is for parents with rebellious children, for soldiers going to war, and for someone who is just getting out of jail. Whatever our need, it shows God personally and actively involved in our lives. “He maketh me . . . He leadeth me . . . He restoreth [me] . . . Thou art with me . . . Thou preparest [for me] . . . Thou anointest [me].” From start to finish the psalm features an attentive, active Father and a needy, receiving child.
It should be noted that the title of this psalm notwithstanding, midway through it the imagery shifts away from the pastoral. The first half of the passage speaks of a shepherd and his sheep. The second half speaks of a generous royal host who provides a lavish feast for his guest. As a flock, the sheep have a verdant pasture and still water; as guests, the visitors have the most abundant and generous banquet possible. In both circumstances there is peace and protection. Let’s reflect upon the individual elements of this universally beloved psalm.
“The Lord is my shepherd”
The Psalmist’s premise in this most beautiful of all scriptural poems is twofold: first, that as the prophet Isaiah once declared, we are all “like sheep.” As such, we need a shepherd because in innocence or ignorance—but on occasion willfully and against counsel—we turn “every one to his own way” and as a result “have gone astray.”263 We wander here and scamper there, inspect this and nibble at that, until at some point we look up and realize we are either lost or about to be destroyed. We realize that we, or others who affect us, have done either something stupid or something wrong—which are so very often the same thing. We realize we desperately need help; we are in trouble and frantically look about for our shepherd, our defender, our savior.
That leads to the second half of the Psalmist’s initial declaration: that the only sure and safe shepherd is the Lord Jesus Christ—YHWH, Jehovah, the Lord God of Israel, Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End, the Great I Am, He who came into mortality as Jesus of Nazareth to rescue every sheep of the fold that wishes to be saved. As the psalms say elsewhere, “He is our god; and we are the people of his pasture, and the sheep of his hand.”264 Life will be quick to teach us that we are all going to need a shepherd “at all times and in all things, and in all places.”265 How loving and strong, how devoted and determined that shepherd is in His care will be the all-important issue of our lives, though that may not be as obvious as it should be until we are in peril. Of course, what we often fail to remember is that in a fallen world and with a tempter bent on destroying us, we are in peril all the time. Thank heaven—literally—that Christ is our protector. As the prophet Isaiah promised, when the Lord comes, “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.”266
In this same regard, no Old Testament prophecy anywhere exceeds the Prophet Ezekiel’s eloquent and inclusive declaration of Jehovah’s mortal ministry as Shepherd and Savior.
“For thus saith the Lord God; Behold, I, even I, will both search my sheep, and seek them out.
“As a shepherd seeketh out his flock in the day that he is among his sheep that are scattered; so will I seek out my sheep, and will deliver them out of all places where they have been scattered in the cloudy and dark day.
“And I will bring them out from the people, and gather them from the countries, and will bring them to their own land, and feed them upon the mountains of Israel by the rivers, and in all the inhabited places of the country.
“I will feed them in a good pasture, and upon the high mountains of Israel shall their fold be: there shall they lie in a good fold, and in a fat pasture shall they feed upon the mountains of Israel.
“I will feed my flock, and I will cause them to lie down, saith the Lord God.
“I will seek that which was lost, and bring again that which was driven away, and will bind up that which was broken, and will strengthen that which was sick: but I will destroy the fat and the strong; I will feed them with judgment.”267
When Christ did come in New Testament times, He reaffirmed the view of those Old Testament witnesses: “I am the good shepherd: the good shepherd giveth his life for the sheep.
“But he that is an hireling, and not the shepherd, whose own the sheep are not, seeth the wolf coming, and leaveth the sheep, and fleeth: and the wolf catcheth them, and scattereth the sheep.
“The hireling fleeth, because he is an hireling, and careth not for the sheep. . . .
“As the Father knoweth me, even so know I the Father: and I lay down my life for the sheep.”268
Truly “Our Lord Jesus [is] that great shepherd of the sheep.”269 And as the Psalmist affirms, He is my shepherd—first-person possessive. Traditionally ancient Israel usually spoke of “our” God, which, for an entire people, was most appropriate. But this beloved psalm reminds us that God is also the God of individuals and that His watchcare is immensely personal. The Lord is my shepherd.
“I shall not want”
The reader immediately recognizes in this phrase at least two meanings for the word want. One is a state of deprivation or insufficiency. By that definition, if the sheep does not “want,” it is not going without, is not lacking the elements essential for well-being. Furthermore, reading the word shall in the future tense, it means the needs of the sheep will be met, they will be protected from deprivation or destitution, in the days that are to come. In the spirit of the Psalmist’s fears and forebodings, this is the most reassuring and comforting interpretation of the phrase. Obviously this does not mean that there won’t be hard times or lean years when financial resources are depleted or other personal or family needs go unmet for a time. But surely what is never to be lean or depleted is our faith—faith in God, faith in the future, faith that things will work out. The Lord has declared, “What I the Lord have spoken, I have spoken, and I excuse not myself; and though the heavens and the earth pass away, my word shall not pass away, but shall all be fulfilled.”270 We need to remember and believe always that “God is powerful to the fulfilling of all his words. For he will fulfil all his promises which he shall make unto you.”271 His promise is that we won’t lack forever, we won’t go without endlessly. His promise is that we are watched over and will be cared for if we will keep our eye single to Him and His glory.
That leads to the second, closely related but nevertheless slightly different definition of want, which is to desire or yearn for. This interpretation is best caught by the little girl in a Sunday School class who misquoted—or slightly improved—the psalm when she said, “The Lord is my shepherd. That’s all I want.” I hasten to acknowledge that we are to desire some things. Our culminating article of faith says, “If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, we seek after these things.”272 Clearly, many things are noble, desirable, and worth pursuing.
But in the context of the psalms and the troubles we face in daily life, it seems obvious that the message here is we should not always be wanting something we don’t have or forever yearning for what is not ours. In its worst form, this is covetousness or avarice or greed. But even in its milder form, it is unattractive and unproductive envy. Classic literature is filled with figures who set out in search of the Holy Grail or the conquest of worlds or a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow only to discover that their prize (and certainly their happiness) was lying within their reach all the time—in their own life or their own home or their own modest and simple circumstance. In that sense we surely suffer needlessly and excessively from wanting, wanting, wanting—especially if those desires are focused on worldly or unworthy things. God does encourage the quest for good things. He does want us to “hunger and thirst after righteousness.”273 But surely He must weary of our wanting so many of the things that “moth and rust doth corrupt.”274 In saying he would not want excessively or seek incessantly the things of the world, the Psalmist was anticipating Jacob’s counsel in the Book of Mormon, “Wherefore, do not spend money for that which is of no worth, nor your labor for that which cannot satisfy.”275 I shall not want.
“He maketh me to lie down in green pastures”
It is safe to assume that lying down in a green pasture is the perfect dream come true for a sheep—the good life as seen from the vantage point of woolly little four-legged animals. It even sounds pretty good to us some days. No task waiting to be completed. No danger from without or trouble from within. Beauty for the eye, bread (or at least grass!) for the body, tranquillity for the soul—peaceful nature all around.
What keeps a sheep from enjoying such a circumstance regularly and routinely? An experienced sheep rancher who has written on this subject suggested that at least four things keep a sheep from such peaceful repose: fear, friction with other sheep, harassment from pests, and hunger.276
None of us have to be particularly brilliant to recognize that here, too, we are very much like sheep. These are some of the same things that keep us from peace in our world. Fears of a thousand kinds, real or imagined, where faith has not been cultivated. Conflicts with family or friend or foe, almost all of which could be eliminated if the gospel of Jesus Christ were allowed to prevail. Petty, pesky, pesty little disturbances of no eternal consequence that nevertheless irritate and annoy. Temporal appetites that intrude upon and finally distract us from spiritual pursuits. If we desire peace and tranquillity in our lives, we need to anticipate, address, and overcome these kinds of intrusions. That is easier said than done, but we ought to work at this, thereby allowing us to spend as much time as we can enjoying the green pastures God would like to give us.
And just a word or two about the word maketh. Within the doctrine of agency and moral freedom, there isn’t much that the Lord ever makes us do. He can make us be accountable for our actions. He can make us feel the consequence of sin. He can make the elements around us respond to His command, and He may entice us to do all manner of good. But in the day-to-day course of mortal life, He doesn’t “make” us do anything independent of our own agency. So in what sense does He “make” us lie down in peace and tranquillity?
Perhaps at least part of the answer is in a different interpretation of maketh. Is it possible that the Psalmist is saying, “God made me in order that I could lie down in green pastures”? Is it possible that, as with so many gospel principles and divine teachings, we are being shown the ideal, the ultimate purpose of our lives? Even if on some days peace, tranquillity, and green pastures seem so very far away, does maketh mean that those promises nevertheless await me, that for those purposes and that peace I was ultimately created?
If we can remember who we really are as children of the living God, and can keep in mind the plan for our salvation and the truths that will finally lead us there, we will be able to trust in and keep pursuing the great celestial destinies of our lives, including that day when we will have no fears, no foes, only peace of mind and tranquillity of soul. For that end we have been made and toward that end we need to keep striving. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures.
“He leadeth me beside the still waters”
This phrase is, of course, one with and the other half of the earlier promise of green pastures for God’s little ones. Even more than the sustenance of the grass, sheep (and all other animals) need the constant supply and vitality of life-giving water. Man or beast can live for a fairly extended time without food, but nothing can live very long without water. Agua vita. The water of life. Water is an absolutely essential element in our makeup, which may be at least one of the reasons that God has instituted it as the means through which we are baptized unto eternal life. “Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God,” Jesus told Nicodemus,277 and to the Samaritan woman at the well, He taught, “The water that I shall give . . . shall be . . . a well of water springing up into everlasting life.”278
In what may be the earliest Christian church ever excavated (a third-century house-church at Dura-Europos in Syria), a painting of a shepherd was found centrally featured over the baptismal font in a specially constructed baptistry there. Looking down, as it were, upon those participating in this essential ordinance, the Good Shepherd was leading His sheep into the fold of salvation through the medium of living water. Thus, at several levels of interpretation, water is essential for our survival. We cannot live without it, and a loving shepherd will make sure we find it. He thirsted on the cross in order that we might never have to face a comparable thirst of body or soul. We ought to drink deeply of His living water and be eternally grateful for the never-ending fountainhead from which it flows.
In terms of the psalm’s theme and that of this book, it is of course not to be overlooked that these are “still waters” to which God’s lambs are led. No turbulence of anxiety and opposition here. No crashing waves of conflict or destructive breakers of travail. Any lamb would be justifiably fearful if these sources were always agitated or erupting. We fear floods and rampaging rivers, and swimming far from shore frightens us too. Tsunamis, typhoons, and hurricanes—all generated at sea—leave a wider swath of destruction than virtually any other manifestation of nature’s violence. We speak of being “under water” in a situation we can’t handle or perhaps “drowning” in debt or self-pity or life’s complexities. No, in order to obtain sustenance for body or soul, we need still waters, peaceful waters, calm waters. They are a synonym for safe surroundings. We are led to such a setting by the Good Shepherd. He leadeth me beside the still waters.
PSALM 23:1-2
The Shepherd's Rest by George Vicat Cole. (1833-1893)
Haynes Fine Art Gallery, Broadway, Great Britain.
Fine Art Photographic Library, London/Art Resource, New York.
“He restoreth my soul”
It would be nice if life were so calm and consistent that we never had occasion to feel discouraged or depleted. If there were no tribulation in our lives, no difficult or taxing circumstances that consumed our spiritual and emotional capital, we would have little need for any restoration to our soul. But life isn’t calm or consistent, and we all face times that drain us of strength. Fatigue is a debilitating fact for all of us. We all get tired. This is why we all need sleep, we all need a break from our routines, we all need a vacation, however brief or inexpensive it might be.
Certainly this is the reason God ordained a Sabbath. Rabbi Harold S. Kushner has written regarding Exodus 31:17: “In six days the Lord made heaven and earth and on the seventh day He rested and was refreshed.” He notes that in Hebrew, the verbs that translate “rest” and “refreshed” are shavat, meaning “He stopped” (from which the word Sabbath comes) and yinafash, meaning literally “He got His soul back.”279
If God needs rest and refreshing, needs to “get His soul back” (if only symbolically and as an example for us), then surely we do as well. Every one of us needs refueling, regeneration, encouragement, hope. Fortunately, God has structured life in ways that we can get these if we will. As noted, His water is “living water,” water that shall be “a well of water springing up into everlasting life.”280 That is real renewal!
So, too, with the bread of life. The bread of mortal existence leaves us hungry, sometimes almost as soon as we have eaten it. Even the manna that came to the Israelites in the desert was not long-term or life-giving in the spiritual sense. But Christ as “the bread of life” is, was, and always will be. “I am the bread of life,” Jesus taught. “He that cometh to me shall never hunger . . . for the bread of God is he which cometh down from heaven, and giveth life unto the world.”281 We get life and hope, sustenance and help from God. Only heaven can restore our souls and put our feet solidly back under us.
In this latter regard, Phillip Keller, an experienced sheep rancher, noted that an old English shepherd’s term for a sheep that has turned over on its back and cannot get up again by itself is a “cast” sheep, or a “cast down” sheep.282 Given a sheep’s physiology—and maybe its psychology—it will lie there on its back, flailing away with its legs in the air, until it dies if help doesn’t come quickly enough. Not only is a natural death a threat in this circumstance, but the sheep is also helpless, hapless prey for any predator that may be watching for just such an easy kill.
As a side comment, it may be interesting to note that a fat, healthy sheep is probably more vulnerable to casting than others—suggesting that ease and luxury may be as much a challenge as want and limitations. What happens is that a well-fed and perhaps long-fleeced sheep—one who is seemingly coming along just as an owner would want—may lie down and roll around a little to stretch out and relax. However, if in the joy of all this the center of gravity shifts a little too much and all four of the legs lose contact with the ground, the sheep is “cast.” It is highly unlikely that the lighter weight of the legs, even churning in midair as they are, will be substantial enough to overcome the bulk of the sheep’s girth, which is literally holding those legs upright. I am not sure Paul had a “cast” sheep in mind, but he may have had a prosperous, seemingly self-sufficient Christian in mind when he wrote, “Wherefore let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall.”283
All of us have been “cast down” from time to time, and we know what it is like to cry and bleat, flail and fear without any apparent ability to help ourselves get back on our feet under our own power. Then, as we should always do, we look to God and plead for help in times of trouble. Because He is the Good Shepherd, He is always watching, always aware, always looking for the sheep that is cast down. He readily comes and provides living water and the bread of life, lifting us up and setting things right. He puts us on our feet again. He restoreth our soul. And don’t be surprised if His assessment for the future suggests we shed a little satisfied weight and have some of that excess wool shorn. As with the Father Gardener, “every branch that beareth fruit, he purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit.”284 Life has its ups and downs, but the Good Shepherd will always seek us out, will help us, and as necessary will discipline us sufficiently that we don’t find ourselves vulnerable again in the future. He restoreth my soul.
“He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake”
Men, rivers, and sheep will often—usually—almost always—follow the path of least resistance. For the most part, it is wander here and stray there, just as the old song of yesteryear says, “doing what comes naturally.” This tendency is at the heart of the problem of mortality. As King Benjamin said, “For the natural man is an enemy to God, and has been from the fall of Adam, and will be, forever and ever, unless he yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit, and putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and becometh as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father.”285
Substitute “Shepherd” for “the Holy Spirit” and “the Lord” in that verse—titles that are, in this case, interchangeable—and you have the essence of our psalm: “He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.” Just as with the “cast” sheep in the first half of the verse, we are reminded here also that we cannot make this journey on our own. We are not smart enough, we are not good enough, we are not strong enough. We need help and guidance. We need someone who knows the way.
I know of only one of the Proverbs that is repeated twice verbatim. Could that be for some less-than-subtle emphasis? It is Proverbs 14:12, repeated again as 16:25: “There is a way that seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death.” Contrast that with Jesus’ reassuring declaration, “I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.”286 Repeatedly—as much as any other invitation in scripture—Christ invites us to follow Him, to come where He is, to do what He does, to go where He goes, to dwell where He dwells. Whatever path He is on is the path we should be on. Whatever path He marks is the path of righteousness. In the greatest psalm recorded in the Book of Mormon, Nephi cries, “O Lord, wilt thou not shut the gates of thy righteousness before me, that I may walk in the path of the low valley, that I may be strict in the plain road! . . . Wilt thou make my path straight before me! Wilt thou not place a stumbling block in my way—but that thou wouldst clear my way before me, and hedge not up my way.”287 Christ knows the way because He has walked it. He knows the way because He is the Way.
And what of the phrase “for his name’s sake”? Walking the straight and narrow path of righteousness, the way of Christ, is acknowledgment that “this is the way; and there is none other way nor name given under heaven whereby man can be saved in the kingdom of God. . . . This is the doctrine of Christ.”288 Furthermore “the sake” of Christ’s name becomes ever more important as the path of righteousness leads to the covenants and attendant ordinances leading to eternal life. A new name is almost always a key element in a new covenant.289 Thus the name of Christ is central to the identification of His Church,290 to baptism and confirmation within it,291 to partaking of the sacrament of the Lord’s supper,292 to ordination to the priesthood,293 to temple ordinances, and so forth. Truly it is in and through Christ’s name’s sake that the path of ultimate righteousness is pursued. Because His honor and reputation are on the line—“for his name’s sake”—He keeps all promises to His covenant children, specifically the promise inherent in the very name Jehovah—“the Unchangeable One,” “the Great I Am.” As He promised Moses, so He promises all of us, “Certainly I will be with thee.”294 You can count on Him. His good name is at stake. He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me”
With this verse the psalm shifts from focusing on a Shepherd in the third person (he) to a Host and Benefactor in the second person (thou). In this transition the psalm becomes even more personal, more prayerful, more grateful. Now life moves beyond sheep and shepherding to something more human for the struggling man or sorrowing woman. Now we consider life, death, and the shadows that link those mortal experiences. It may be useful to note that it is a “valley” we walk through in dark times. A “valley” is, in terms of a very contemporary illness, a “depression,” a low point or down spot in the terrain. No triumphant stand “high on the mountain top” here.295 No, we are down and maybe nearly out. And even to look up often reveals only that there is such a very long way to go.
We are forced in our mortality to acknowledge how much darkness there truly is in the world and how much of it we have to confront, sometimes almost daily. But ringing from this greatest of all reassuring psalms is the promise that these telestial tribulations are not ultimately final nor permanently fatal. Even though earthly life does end in death, we walk through that shadow and any of the evils (or merely natural realities) that led to it, emerging safely on the other side of the experience. Why? Because God is with us—in life, in death, and on through to eternal life.
That leads us to remember that there is another aspect of a “valley” that must not be forgotten. Almost by definition valleys are more verdant, more bountiful, more luxurious and peaceful than much that surrounds them on more rocky and rugged slopes nearby. If there is any water running down from those slopes, it is bound to run through the valley on its way down from the mountains to the sea. And entering into a valley also means that we don’t have to climb for a while, that things have eased up a bit, that we can rest and renew, take a deep breath and summon strength before climbing again. The early pioneers traveling west always looked forward to the day—and certainly rejoiced in it when it came—that they could enter the valley. That image, that goal, was what kept many a man walking and many a woman believing.
Whether it is a bad day or good, dark moment or happy, verdant valley or one overshadowed with the reality of evil and threat of death, we “will fear no evil: for thou art with [us].” Often simple companionship will suffice when no other explanation of life’s pain will do. When my infant brother died, I remember the comfort provided by those who came to our home just to sit silently with my parents. Words were essentially useless. Just being with us was the best gift they could have given. In that spirit, Psalm 56, with which we began these reflections, gives the single greatest reassurance that can be given in scripture, whatever the nature of our valley: “When I cry unto thee, then shall mine enemies turn back: this I know; for God is for me.”296 He is with us in life and He is with us in death. He is with us in sunshine and He is with us in shadow. He overcomes evil because He is the personification of goodness. He is the Resurrection and the Life. No evil can offset the Atonement of Jesus Christ, and no death can triumph over the victory that is His. The sun/Son always rises. Wherever we walk and whatever we face, we have nothing to fear—ever. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me.
“Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me”
In ancient days the only instruments a shepherd carried were a rod and a staff. The rod was a short, stout, club-like weapon used to defend oneself or the flock from an intruder. It was meant to be—and to convey—strength and power in the hand of a strong shepherd who knew how to use it. Of course, in a more theological way, the “rod” God uses to protect us and drive back the enemy is His mouth and the words of eternal counsel that flow from it. When necessary, those words and that mouth can be very forceful indeed. “But with righteousness shall he judge the poor, and reprove with equity for the meek of the earth: and he shall smite the earth with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips shall he slay the wicked,” wrote the prophet Isaiah.297 The words—and the Word—of God will truly be a comfort to the faithful, but to the ungodly they will be an instrument of condemnation.
The staff was a longer, lighter piece, usually with a hook (or crook) on the end used for rescuing a stranded sheep. It, more than the rod, is associated in both art and myth with the shepherd and his vigilant watchcare. Anyone who has ever seen a Primary class’s reenactment of the Nativity is sure to recognize the shepherds by their ever-present staffs. Interestingly enough, in addition to being an extension of the shepherd’s loving arm in either rescuing an errant sheep or guiding it in a new direction, the staff is also a means of support for the shepherd, a strength against which the weary walker can lean. Everything about the staff speaks of safety and care. It is the great scriptural instrument of rescue and redemption.
In life we need defending and we need rescue. One way or the other, we are vulnerable. Whether it be in threatening confrontations or routine wandering, we are blessed and protected by God’s vigilant care. Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
“Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies”
Notice again that although the sheep/shepherd theme continues to a degree, we are now speaking of a royal banquet table set for human consumption and human delight. Unfortunately, there are enemies nearby (and truly God’s people, especially the youth among us, are always living in enemy territory), but in spite of that, a beautiful array is set, and those enemies are not allowed to come near to the feast nor to interrupt the favored guest. This Host has the bounty to feed and the power to protect. His guest is to eat and drink in peace. There is a sense of invulnerability here that is greatly to be desired in times of trouble.
Furthermore it should be noted that this banquet is apparently provided to the traveler without request or advance notice. The scene begs the recollection of Isaiah’s great declaration of God’s generosity:
“Every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money; come ye, buy, and eat; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.
“Wherefore do ye spend money for that which is not bread? and your labour for that which satisfieth not? hearken diligently unto me, and eat ye that which is good, and let your soul delight itself in fatness.”298
It should not be overlooked that one of the theological reasons the enemy is kept away from this festive, peaceful gathering is the righteousness of the people. The prophet Nephi noted:
“And he gathereth his children from the four quarters of the earth; and he numbereth his sheep, and they know him; and there shall be one fold and one shepherd; and he shall feed his sheep, and in him they shall find pasture.
“And because of the righteousness of his people, Satan has no power.”299
The assurance of Christ’s triumph over the adversary and over our imperfections. Unexpected. Unearned. (Sometimes unappreciated!) Always unbounded. That is the feast of salvation, the defeat of death, of hell, and of difficult days. In the final vision of things, John the Revelator notes that God’s gracious hospitality in eternity is characterized as sitting down at the supper table of the Lamb.300 That is the culminating image of the Atonement and redemption of Jesus Christ. To a weary and frightened wanderer, such splendor and relief must take the breath away. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies.
“Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over”
Some form of the word anoint appears nearly 200 times in scripture. In ancient times, perfumed oil was poured on the heads of guests at the feast of a distinguished host in the community. In those settings, the anointing suggested at the very least sanctity and respect. Often it implied a more formal covenantal relationship. In its ultimate significance, the anointing was part of a coronation, the bestowal of a kingship and a kingdom. All of these meanings are conveyed in the prophecy Isaiah made regarding the coming of the Messiah:
“The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound;
“To proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all that mourn;
“To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified.”301
This is, as mentioned earlier, the Messianic scripture Christ quoted in the synagogue in Nazareth that caused such furor when He said to those present, “This day is this scripture fulfilled in your ears.”302
Later in the Savior’s life this moving account recorded by Luke would further underscore a different kind of anointing of the Lord:
“And one of the Pharisees desired him that he would eat with him. And he went into the Pharisee’s house, and sat down to meat.
“And, behold, a woman in the city, which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster box of ointment,
“And stood at his feet behind him weeping, and began to wash his feet with tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment.
“Now when the Pharisee which had bidden him saw it, he spake within himself, saying, This man, if he were a prophet, would have known who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth him: for she is a sinner.
“And Jesus answering said unto him, Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee. And he saith, Master, say on.
“There was a certain creditor which had two debtors: the one owed five hundred pence, and the other fifty.
“And when they had nothing to pay, he frankly forgave them both. Tell me therefore, which of them will love him most?
“Simon answered and said, I suppose that he, to whom he forgave most. And he said unto him, Thou hast rightly judged.
“And he turned to the woman, and said unto Simon, Seest thou this woman? I entered into thine house, thou gavest me no water for my feet: but she hath washed my feet with tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head.
“Thou gavest me no kiss: but this woman since the time I came in hath not ceased to kiss my feet.
“My head with oil thou didst not anoint: but this woman hath anointed my feet with ointment.
“Wherefore I say unto thee, Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much: but to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little.
“And he said unto her, Thy sins are forgiven.
“And they that sat at meat with him began to say within themselves, Who is this that forgiveth sins also?
“And he said to the woman, Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace.”303
Of course, the significance of the Psalmist’s feeling that his (our) head can be anointed is because of Christ’s gift to every one of us. Like the guest being so royally treated, we too have the chance for the divinely ordained life, for a destiny as kings and queens in the eternal realm. When we consider such blessings in this world and in the world to come, truly our chalice can’t contain it; our “cup runneth over.” Gratitude is the key to savoring all other gifts from God because without it, all other gifts seem insufficient or inadequate. Rather than complaining that life is hard or that our blessings don’t seem abundant enough or that there are always thorns among the roses, shouldn’t we be grateful that life, however difficult, is precious, that in addition we have the promise of eternal life, that the blessings we have are wonderful and those we will have are more wonderful yet, and that there are roses among the thorns? In the gospel of Jesus Christ, to quote a popular song, “everything is coming up roses.” God’s goodness overflows. Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life”
Unfortunately, the Psalmist does not say that in mortality our cup will always be full or that our heads will always be anointed with oil, but in this verse we do have the promise that even in a telestial sphere of trial and growth, God’s goodness and mercy will always be with us. That means that, as the hymn says, His arms will be put “unfailingly round” us, for ever and ever, through thick or thin, through triumph or tragedy.304 Indeed, apparently the Hebrew word translated as follow is something more like pursue. In that regard, one thinks of Francis Thompson’s poem “The Hound of Heaven,” in which the Lord “hounds” the Christian and won’t rest until His prey stops running from grace, until he yields to God’s love and his soul is saved.
Furthermore it should be noted that in this phrase goodness and mercy are used as personal nouns, not adjectives or mere descriptive virtues. Thus the line introduces for the first time in this psalm the promise of help from other divine beings besides the Lord. In the Hebraic tradition, a great deal has been written about the idea of two angels or special messengers that are dispatched by the Lord to watch over a special person or dignitary. They were to be ever watchful and never leave their person unattended. One distinguished scholar has gone so far as to say this was the scriptural introduction of the tradition that would develop into the idea of “guardian angels.” The notion of two specifically assigned angels for each mortal person on earth is not part of our doctrine, but the reality of angelic watchcare is and will be our doctrine “so long as time shall last, or the earth shall stand, or there shall be one man [or woman] upon the face thereof to be saved.”305
The message here is clear: Heavenly beings will, with goodness and mercy, care and compassion, strength and safety, watch over God’s children day and night, in sickness and in health. This is the most important and most eternal meaning of this verse.
But there is another possible reading of the verse that we should also consider. It could mean—and seems consistent with Christian belief to mean—that after we have been treated so lovingly first by a Good Shepherd and then by a Royal Host, we should “go, and do . . . likewise” to others.306 That is, if we are the recipients of such generosity and abundance, then those blessings should “follow us” or go with us, be evident in our association with others wherever we go, “all the days of [our] life.” If we have been shown goodness, we should show goodness. If we have been dealt with mercifully, we should deal mercifully. Everywhere we go, people ought to be able to say, “I have been in the presence of a disciple of Christ. I felt goodness flowing from him. I found mercy at her hand. They live lives of compassion and love. These qualities seem to ‘follow them’ wherever they go.”
One of the simplest summaries of Christ’s life was that He “went about doing good.”307 Goodness “followed him.” It ought to follow those who profess His name and call Him Master. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.
“I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever”
This is a reference—as in so many of the psalms—to the holy temple. The significance of temple ordinances in God’s plan for His sons and daughters cannot be overstated. All roads in the gospel lead to the house of the Lord (or, as in this beautiful psalm, back to the house of the Lord), which house is already halfway to heaven. Thus the temple is the great intersection of time and eternity. In our instruction from and communion with the divine there, we learn powerfully and poignantly who we really are, where we were before we came here, why it was crucial for us to come into mortality, and what our destiny can be forever if we embrace and live the gospel truths taught, particularly as they pertain to the Atonement of Jesus Christ.
This pursuit of personal exaltation takes on added importance when in the course of our earthly sojourn we come to understand the significance of the eternal family. In the temple we learn—again—that we are literally the spiritual offspring of God, with eternal ties to Him and to each other and special promises regarding the continuity of family relationships beyond the grave. Of those who are “bone of [our] bones, and flesh of [our] flesh,”308 a modern prophet has asked, “Was there ever a man who truly loved a woman, or a woman who truly loved a man, who did not pray that their relationship might continue beyond the grave? Has a child ever been buried by parents who did not long for the assurance that their loved one would again be theirs in a world to come? Can anyone believing in eternal life doubt that the God of heaven would grant his sons and daughters that most precious attribute of life, the love that finds its most meaningful expression in family relationships? No, reason demands that the family relationship shall continue after death. The human heart longs for it. The God of heaven has revealed a way whereby it may be secured. The sacred ordinances of the house of the Lord provide for it.”309
Because the temple is characterized by such sacred promises, such holiness and divine safety, it has always been a place of refuge in our times of trouble, a fortress for covenantal communion when our needs are great. Here in this most consecrated of edifices, this most sacred space on earth, God figuratively (and one day literally) comes to greet us, endow us, embrace us, and seal us His. In response, we strive—within its precincts and without—to lift ourselves out of the worldly ills and damaging influences of mortality, to reach up to celestial possibilities, to be our best spiritual selves with a “brightness of hope, and a love of God and of all men.”310 Such revelation and renewal, courage and peace are at their brightest and best within the sanctuary of the Lord. Little wonder that Jesus’ most furious acts in mortality were in response to the desecration of the temple and its consecrated purposes. And little wonder that the Psalmist finds such sweet satisfaction in entering there, never to go beyond its comfort and protection again. John the Revelator envisioned such an ultimate opportunity for all of us: “What are these which are arrayed in white robes? and whence came they? . . . These are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple.”311 I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
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As we close this psalm (and this book about the psalms), it should be noted that the Lord (Yahweh) begins this prayerful song—“the Lord is my shepherd”—and the Lord (Yahweh) concludes it—“in the house of the Lord for ever.” Although the name of Jehovah is not used anywhere else in the twenty-third psalm, it is clear from start to finish that He is the Good Shepherd spoken of and He is the generous, royal host.
As in this psalm, so too should it be in our lives. He should be our beginning and our end. He should be our first and our last. He should be our Alpha and Omega. “The God of all comfort,” as the Apostle Paul so lovingly describes Him,312 should bracket our experience every day and every night. As Alma of old pled with his son, “Cry unto God for all thy support; yea, let all thy doings be unto the Lord, and whithersoever thou goest let it be in the Lord; yea, let all thy thoughts be directed unto the Lord; yea, let the affections of thy heart be placed upon the Lord forever. Counsel with the Lord in all thy doings, and he will direct thee for good; yea, when thou liest down at night lie down unto the Lord, that he may watch over you in your sleep; and when thou risest in the morning let thy heart be full of thanks unto God; and if ye do these things, ye shall be lifted up at the last day.”313
Our hopes and our dreams. Our beginning and our end. Our past, our present, and our future should all be characterized by our proximity to and adoration for Him whose flock we are and whose royal guests we should wish to be—in times of trouble and always.
PSALM 23:6
A Perthshire Moor, Scotland. Artist (1821-1886).
Sidney Richard Percy, Fine Art Photographic/Hulton Archive/Getty Images.
Notes
^261. Kushner, The Lord Is My Shepherd, 9.
^276. W. Phillip Keller, A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23 (1970), 41–42.
^279. Kushner, The Lord Is My Shepherd, 65.
^282. Keller, A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23, 70.
^288. 2 Nephi 31:21; emphasis added.
^289. Consider, for example, the Lord changing Abram’s name to Abraham and Jacob’s name to Israel (see Genesis 17:1–5; 32:28; also Isaiah 62:2; Revelation 2:17; 3:12; D&C 130:11).
^295. “High on the Mountain Top,” Hymns, no. 5.
^299. 1 Nephi 22:25–26; emphasis added.
^304. “God Be with You Till We Meet Again,” Hymns, no. 152.
^309. Gordon B. Hinckley, “Why These Temples?” Ensign, August 1974, 39–40.