The Twenty-Third Psalm
No sweeter language, perhaps, was ever penned than this Psalm. What wonderful words, “The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want” (Psalm 23:1)! What beauty! what sublimity! and what incomprehensibleness. The soul in contemplating these words is lost in admiration. Oh, that my pen could tell the feelings of my soul as I stand with unveiled heart before these words! They come up from the dim regions of the past like the soft, sweet strains of some far-away choir, and they point us forward to the glorious Lord who so tenderly shepherds all His creatures. How blessed to have Jesus for our shepherd! How sweet to know that this is really true! Will you not lay this book down and go out into some place of solitude and think for an hour about this? Think of the time when you were almost in despair and about ready to murmur; think of the time when you were discouraged and ready to faint by the way; and let your head drop for shame.
Can we ever be anything else than happy and hopeful when we know Jesus is our shepherd? Ah! we will never, never fear again. We will never begin to tremble and draw back because the way is growing dark. No; we feel like trusting Jesus no matter how thick is the darkness. How safe we feel! Let the waves dash, our Shepherd can still them at His will; let the winds blow, our Shepherd can temper them; let the storm clouds gather, He can make them pour down blessings; let the darkness fall, the light of His countenance can dispel the heaviest gloom. We will never be discouraged again. We will never be anything else than happy again. O Christian heart, look up and be hopeful; look up and let these sweet words of light shine into your heart in all their glory.
The Septuagint version of this Psalm is so beautiful I cannot refrain from transcribing a portion of it. “The Lord tends me as a shepherd, and I shall want nothing. In a place of green pasture, there he has made me dwell: he has nourished me by the water of rest. He has restored my soul: he has guided me into the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Yea, even if I should walk in the midst of the shadow of death, I will not be afraid of evil, For thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff, these have comforted me. Thou hast prepared a table before me in the presence of them that afflict me: Thou hast thoroughly anointed my head with oil; and thy cup cheers me like the best wine. Thy mercy also shall follow me all the days of my life: and my dwelling shall be in the house of the Lord forever.” (Psalm 23)LXX This was so full of touching, thrilling, beautiful sentiment I could not stay my pen until the whole Psalm was written.
It will not take you long to commit these words to memory. I wish you would do it. And someday when in a deserted place and lonely feelings come creeping over you, let these words return upon your heart and melt away the despondency as the bright rays of autumn’s sun melt the early frost. Sometime, when the tear of sorrow is about to fall from the eye, let the sweet strain of this Psalm soothe the heart and wipe away the tear. Someday, when it seems as if the world has forsaken you and you are but a poor, friendless wanderer in an unfriendly world, go and sit down in some quiet place and sing these words. As you sing, “The Lord’s my Shepherd, I’ll not want,”* listen, and you will hear the angels catching up the sweet refrain and shouting, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.” (Luke 2:14)
Talk no more of fears and tears; talk no more of dark and stormy days, of sorrow of heart and thirsting of soul for peace and rest. This song sings to you of Jesus, who gives rest, whose love dispels every fear, whose sweet life quenches all the thirstings of the soul, and whose salvation opens up a deliverance from every evil. Glory to His name! How can the Christian’s soul be disquieted and cast down, when he can see Jesus as his tender shepherd? How slow oftentimes is man to see what Jesus is to him!
Only a few days ago, while viewing the well-cared-for grounds which surround our nation’s presidential mansion, I saw in the midst of these verdant shrubbery grounds a high, misty, spraying fountain. From where I stood I saw nothing but the colorless water in misty spray; but walking to a certain spot, I saw in this water all the bright colors of the rainbow. Mark this: when I stepped aside from that spot, I could see no colors. These rainbow colors were produced by the falling of the rays of the sun upon the drops of water in the cloudy spray; and when I was in a proper position under the sun, these colors were visible to me. Many times I have read the twenty-third Psalm and have seen nothing but the colorless fountain. It was only when I came into a proper position under God that I saw the colors of the rainbow. It was when the light of heaven shone upon the words of this Psalm, that it reflected the glories of grace upon my soul.
It is possible that many of my readers have not heard the sweet music that comes pealing forth from this gospel in song and their eyes have not been open to see the rich beauties of color as they come welling up from its wonderful depth. A man was one day traveling along a highway reading. These were the words he read: “He was led as a sheep to the slaughter; and like a lamb dumb before his shearer, so opened he not his mouth: In his humiliation his judgment was taken away: and who shall declare his generation? for his life is taken from the earth.” (Acts 8:32-33) In these words was meaning far hidden from his understanding. The Scriptures have a voice, but alas! how many ears are dull of hearing! They contain many secret things; but these secrets are spoken in such a still, small voice that we need to draw very near to hear them. Many in reading the Bible fail to hear its voice. Who has heard all this twenty-third Psalm has to say? O my soul, awake and lend thine ears to catch the faintest whisper of this poetic strain: “The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.”
The words of the Bible are not only true in the book, but true in heaven. When we read the Bible in the Spirit, we do not hear the words of the book only; but we hear them in a still, small voice from heaven. When the Spirit of God takes the word of God and talks to our hearts, it is spoken from the world above. But, oh, how hushed and still must be our soul to hear in the words of the Bible that accompaniment from heaven! When I open my Bible and read, “The LORD is my shepherd,” there comes ringing down in sweet, soft stillness from heaven, “The Lord is my shepherd.” Then I read, “I shall not want,” and like the faintest echo, I hear from the gates of glory, “I shall not want.”
Recently I stood in one of the spacious rooms of our nation’s capitol. On every side were marble columns and statues. The floor was of white and slate-blue marble blocks. In that vast area of marble floor was a white block upon which if a person would stand and bow his head and speak, the words would be echoed back to him. The dome was so shaped that one could hear the echo only when one was standing on that particular stone. Those standing by one’s side could not hear the echo. This beautifully illustrates the echo of the Bible from heaven. If you will stand in a proper position and say, “The Lord is my shepherd,” the echo will come back, “The Lord is my shepherd.” No one but your own heart can hear the echo, and you can hear it only when you are standing in the proper place.
When you read the twenty-third Psalm and fail to see the rainbow of heavenly glories and to hear the echo from above, you are not standing in the proper attitude.
As we read this pastoral song, two pictures are presented to our view. In one is a peaceful, flowing river. By the side of this stream is a green pasture in which are lying contentedly a flock of sheep. This is typical of the Christian’s rest of his satisfaction. He dwells in rich pasture lands; he eats in plenty, and is satisfied. He has no want. He is not seeking for food; his want is fully supplied. In the presence of his enemies (physical or spiritual) a table is spread, of which he eats and wants nothing. Satan may rage and roar; our spiritual enemies may threaten; but in their face we can sit down and eat in quietness.
We shall never want for food either physical or spiritual; for Jesus tends us as a shepherd and leads us into green pastures. Another text reads, “The young lions do lack, and suffer hunger: but they that seek the LORD shall not want any good thing.” (Psalm 34:10) Then, there is one which says, “There is no want to them that fear him.” (Psalm 34:9) Still another reads, “The LORD God is a sun and shield: the LORD will give grace and glory: no good thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly.” (Psalm 84:11) Never to know a want is the assurance these blessed words give to our hearts. Oh! why will you be discontented? Why will you fear? Step out in a sweet feeling of safety, no matter how the wolf of want may assail you. We shall not want rest. “Come unto me,” says Jesus, “and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28) Christ is our Rest-Giver. This rest is full and complete. Anxiety has taken wing, and sweet, tranquil rest is reigning in the soul. We shall not go astray for want of guidance. Jesus, our shepherd, will lead us where there is the best food for our souls. All is safe in our Savior’s control. He ever leads us in the path of righteousness. He is our keeper, and nothing can harm us.
Another picture is that of a shepherd leading a flock of sheep down a dark and rugged ravine. There are wild beasts upon every hand, dangerous rocks are hanging overhead, and an awful precipice is near. The sheep are following very close to the shepherd, but seem to fear no evil. The green pasture land and the quiet, flowing stream are beyond.
Jesus somtimes leads His trusting children through dark valleys, but they fear no evil. Death may threaten upon every hand; they cling the closer to their kind Shepherd. Even in those dark and dangerous places they fear no evil. They dwell in safety. The pasture land and the gently-flowing brooks lie beyond the dark valley. If we would reach the green pasture fields and the waters of rest, we must pass through the dangerous valley.
Beloved pilgrim on your homeward journey, will you remember that the clouds gather thick over your head and the waves dash around your feet and darkness reigns all around—will you remember then that the pleasant fields lie just beyond? Fear no evil in these trying times. Draw a little nearer to your Shepherd and go trustingly on. He will guide you safely, be assured. He has a table prepared at the other end of the dark pass; but to be prepared to sit at this table and partake of the things He has prepared you must go with Him through the shadowy valley.
To walk with God we must sometimes walk through the valley of the shadow of death; but, oh, how sweet! A young mother sat down to weep over the lifeless body of her darling infant; but heaven seemed so much dearer because her baby had gone that she could only look up to Jesus and thank Him for the stroke He had given.