The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
God makes me lie down in green pastures;
God leads me beside still waters;
God restores my soul.
God leads me in right paths for God’s name’s sake.
Those are the first few lines from the 23rd of the 150 Psalms of our Bible, we sang the words just a few minutes ago. They are well known to many of us who have come to this or other places of worship in the course of our journey through life. They are beautiful, poetic words that try to name that place in the centre, in the soul of who we are, where we encounter the holiness of God. The image of shepherd is used, one who gives us guidance and protection. One who loves us unconditionally. One who is with us no matter what happens, who will never turn their back on us and ensures that we have what we could ever need in this path of life. We hear of green pastures, still waters and right pathways, all very comforting, calming and quieting.
But the trouble with the Psalm in the first few verses is that it might imply that life is only filled with lying down in green fields on bright summer days, or sitting beside lakes or places of soul restoration or right paths. It implies that all is easy and gentle and straightforward. If you have lived this life very long you know that this just ain’t so. There are moments, difficult and unpredicted moments where, well, where we have to pray these famous words of the 23rd Psalm with an intensity we never thought possible. Moments where they are not mere lyrics from a Sunday School class of long ago but words with a depth and a ferocity and a determination to them. Moments where we question more than at other times God’s presence and God’s interaction with our lives. I hold in my mind the images of the terrible act of violence at the Lapu Lapu festival and I cannot help but think that many people there were praying, reciting, crying, shouting, demanding these words as they tried to find a way forward. Help me to know that you are near, O God. Help me to know that it is not just green pastures and right paths where we know you but in the places where I really need your presence, your love like a blanket, your grace like a shawl upon my shoulders.
But the psalm continues and listen carefully as it offers a vital part of the theology or understanding of God that I think has been horribly misunderstood:
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.
It is a reminder and a request that God be with us. It is not a prayer entreating God to take away all the painful and difficult times of life. God does not promise to do that, the psalmist does not demand that. Rather the request is that God be with us no matter what. That God hold us and love us throughout anything and all things. In hospital rooms, funeral homes, difficult phone calls, doctor’s quiet words, even in the aftermath of despicable violence on Fraser Street, God is with us. In sleepless nights, fears of unknowns, deep concern, God is with us. This is what we believe about God. Not that God will remove any and all hardships from life but that God is with us on our journey, not simply providing green pastures, gentle paths beside quiet gentle-flowing streams but that when we have to walk through those deepest, darkest valleys, those places we never want to go, those places that cause us to shudder and that wake us up in the night, those places that we fear the most and do not want to even verbalize them to our loved ones, even those places God promises to tread the path alongside us. This is God’s promise, this is God’s commitment, this is God’s grace. That with me, even me, that with you, even you, God commits to walk with rod and staff, to love with an eternal love, to comfort us to the depths of our broken heart. That those who were at the Lapu Lapu Festival not long ago or in the war in Gaza or Ukraine or India or that shooting not long ago or the forest fires of past summers or dealing with the death of loved ones due to fentanyl or abuse or violence are not alone and forgotten but held and cradled and tears are shed from the One who first breathed life into the universe. This is an important and even vital theology of God to understand: the God who is with us through the challenges of life.
But the psalmist is not finished. You might think that shepherd and green pastures and calm waters and a commitment to be with us might be enough but it does not end there. You might think it would. But life is not as straightforward as it is sometimes portrayed. Listen again to how the psalmist concludes but note that it gets difficult from here.
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.
… You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. Now some might interpret this to mean that God will provide for us even when our enemies are destroying or attempting to destroy us. And that may be one interpretation but I think that it is actually inviting us to love our enemies and to invite them to our table. Imagine that. God imagines a world where those we hate, those we detest, those we simply cannot understand or imagine even speaking to again come to our table. God imagines a world where we commit to a new and different way, not satisfied with enemies remaining enemies. But if we expect God to shower goodness and mercy down upon us, then I believe that God expects us to shower goodness and mercy upon others. This is what the house of the Lord, the house of God is grounded upon. A love that is eternal and for always.
In the gospel passage for this day, Jesus is cornered by a group of people who want a plain answer from him. They ask, “Are you the Messiah?” Jesus’ answer is fascinating. He essentially says to them just look at the works I am doing and you will have your answer. For Jesus was doing things like curing the sick, telling people that the peacemakers are blessed, telling them to love their neighbours and to love their enemies, he told them to be like salt or light or good Samaritans. He said to those who would torture him and eventually execute him, Father forgive them. This is how he revealed that he was the Messiah, in his actions and ultimately showing the depth of God’s grace and love in the resurrection. This is the kind of shepherd that we trust and hope in. One calling us to be in relationship with the shepherd and to be in relationship with others.
Today we are celebrating the 160th anniversary of this parish of St. Mary’s. For 160 years people have been coming through these doors to experience the love of a shepherding God, to come into relationship with this God, to hear that we do not walk alone in this world. But also to know that we in turn are called to live out that love in the world. That as Christians, as followers of the Shepherd, we are called to live in ways that invites others to know of green pastures and still waters. And for 160 years St Mary’s has been doing this and living into this.
And so we remember all those who have gone before us: clergy, wardens, music directors, choir members, youth groups, Sundy Schools, altar guilds, Christian Formation teachers, those baptised here (or married or buried from here), those who whose lives were changed and transformed by the good news of Jesus Christ here, by the Shepherd who has continued to guide and protect and call us to live into the gospel of Christ.
Jean Vanier once said: “We are not called by God to do extraordinary things, but to do ordinary things with extraordinary love.” He once said:
“The response to war is to live like brothers and sisters. The response to injustice is to share. The response to despair is a limitless trust and hope. The response to prejudice and hatred is forgiveness. To work for community is to work for humanity. To work for peace is to work for a true political solution; it is to work for the Kingdom of God. It is to work to enable every one to live and taste the secret joys of the human person united to the eternal.”
This is what this church has been doing for 160 years and what we are called to do for another 160 years.
The Lord is my shepherd.