Sunday, June 25, 2023

Today’s Scripture Reading
Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd;
I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:
he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul:
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;
thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies:
thou anointest my head with oil;
my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. (KJV)

Reflection
The Twenty-Third Psalm. Most of us have it committed to memory, especially if you serve Communion here at Fourth Church. And if you attended Vacation Bible School in the Deep South as I did, it was de rigueur. Whisper this: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil ...” — could any verse be more potent and emblematic? Were there a Pulitzer Prize category for the Bible, the award would go to David.

As a young child, this psalm made me tremble. I worried that something bad happened, sought out my mother, and with a shy countenance asked, “Did somebody die?” The always-present Twenty-Third Psalm at wakes and funerals stoked those fears. She would smile and tell me it’s a good thing when someone gets to go home. The Twenty-Third Psalm is the chaperone. Think of God as chaperone? God as a shepherd presiding over a flock? God holding a rod and staff at the ready for protection? Think of the omnipotent ubiquity of God. Indeed, this is potent verse, very potent.

Of the multitudinous dimensions of the Twenty-Third Psalm, focus with me on stillness. “He leadeth me beside the still waters.” As a scientist I know that matter is in constant motion; nothing is ever still. This church moves; our homes move; atoms move; our bodies, cells, thoughts move — indeed are we ever still, truly? No, we are not. Yet we embrace still waters and envision depth, mystery, and even fear of a vast unknown. But our God leads us, buoys us; we have a lifeguard; we have a shepherd — “The Shepherd.”

As an adult, I’ve evolved. Those early life responses to the Twenty-Third Psalm now yield familiarity to Faith; repetition to Reverence; and fear to a fierce Belief: I am/we are comforted, guided, protected in those dark frightening valleys and beside those still deep waters. And not just now, but for the eternal days to come. This is it; this is our why; our spiritual cornerstone. It is what I believe.

For solace, I offer this favorite hymn: “When peace like a river attendeth my way; when sorrows like sea billows roll; whatever my lot, thou has taught me to say, … it is well with my soul.” And for strength, I offer Psalm 121.

We needn’t fear anything — not valleys, not still waters, not even death; we have the Shepherd.

Prayer
“Precious Lord” — 1939, by Thomas Dorsey (1899–1993), of Chicago; Mahalia Jackson: Precious Lord, Take My Hand

Chorus:
Precious Lord, take my hand; lead me on, let me stand. I am tired, I’m weak, I am worn. Through the storm, through the night, lead me on to the light. Take my hand, precious Lord, lead me home. Amen.

Dedication: This devotion is homage to Marsha Heizer, Elder, Fourth Presbyterian Church of Chicago, Illinois.

Written by Clyde Yancy, Member of Fourth Presbyterian Church

Reflection © Fourth Presbyterian Church

Devotion index by date | I’d like to receive daily devotions by email