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In a Rut? So Was the Psalmist

“He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake” [Psalm 23:3b].

I don’t know about you, but I’m in a bit of a rut. I’m trying not to complain, but except for (a) my daily walk, and (b) a few hours during the past two Saturday evenings, when Jane and I have joined son, Walker, at his new house for a nice, take-out dinner (avec du vin) — don’t tell Governor Cooper — I haven’t left the house now for more than two weeks. I know, I know, for some of you, it’s actually much worse than that. For example, one wonderful couple from my Carolina Arbors Bible Study has not left the pair’s residence in more than a month. Another close friend at “CA” hasn’t ventured past his sheltered cul-de-sac, except perhaps to see a physician, in more than six weeks. Still, I feel as if I’m in a rut.

In times (or ruts) such as these, it’s natural to turn to scripture; we can hardly argue that we’re too busy to do otherwise. Among this week’s selections from the Revised Common Lectionary is the familiar 23rd Psalm. For many of us, “the 23rd” is a centerpiece of our faith. For example, I can remember standing on the stage of my rural Gaston County elementary school with my twin brother, Todd, and the other members of the 1957-58 first grade class, and reciting “the 23rd,” more or less in unison, for the assembly of teachers and parents at a Monday evening PTA meeting. King James would have been proud! You could, of course, get away with that sort of activity back then.

I remember many years later, during my Asbury UMC years, sitting one Saturday morning with one of my mentors, the Reverend Wally Ellis, as he and I visited one of our many shut-ins. This sweet woman, in her early 90s, suffered from hallucinations, brought about by her advanced dementia. She told Wally that she was scared, that she thought two men were after her, and that she didn’t know what to do. Wally calmly asked her to name her favorite Psalm.

“The 23rd, of course,” was her quick reply.

Wally added, “Darlin’, that’s what I thought, but you don’t need to be worried about those two men. They won’t hurt you. They’re going to help you. I even know their names.”

“Really?

“Sure, honey, you remember how the Psalm ends, don’t you? Well, one of them is ‘Goodness’ and the other is ‘Mercy,’ and both of ’em are going to follow you, and take care of you, all the days of your life.”

Our sweet parishioner smiled and uttered a quiet, “Thank you, Wally.”

I can remember thinking that I wasn’t sure about Wally’s exegesis, but there was no denying that the words of the Psalm were soothing to her, and to many of us when we have faced difficult moments. Indeed, we’ve heard the Psalm read by others, have read it ourselves, and have recited the familiar words so many times that we know exactly what it means — or do we? If we allow ourselves just a bit of distance from the soothing Psalm that we have lived with for so long, we might find that it is full of surprising images.

Consider, for example, that while the Psalm appears to end with something on the order of “and they all lived happily thereafter,” the actual images drawn by the psalm — the pastoral picture of shepherd, rich, green fields, waters of peace and repose — actually describe a journey, a sense of movement that is overseen by Yahweh. Within the psalm, the “green pasture” is, after all, just a temporary stop. The psalmist is actually on the move. He walks beside still waters, along paths (of righteousness), and through valleys (even the one inhabited by the death’s dreaded shadow).

Indeed the last verse, translated in the KJV as “And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever” doesn’t actually signal a successful end to the story. Rather, at least according to many OT scholars, the Hebrew word shuv (Anglicized) doesn’t so much mean “dwell” as it means “to turn or to return.” Read that way, the last verse can be understand as, “And I will continually return to Yahweh’s holy presence, my whole life long.” Life with Yahweh becomes a process, a sojourn, a “way,” and not just an end.

As New Testament Christians, we typically see Jesus in the role of the Psalm 23 shepherd. Not only is he the “Good Shepherd,” according to John 10, but he is the pacesetter depicted in Hebrews 12:1-2, the “pioneer” of our faith. Our Lord leads us. Jesus tends us, his sheep, and guides us in ways that lead to right relationships with one another and, even more importantly, a right relationship with God.

And so, as we follow Christ, we move along “paths of righteousness” for His name’s sake. It is here that the old and familiar Psalm 23 gives us the greatest surprise. The text tells us that as we follow our Shepherd, our journey consists of “paths” (KJV), or in the Anglicized Hebrew, ma’galim of righteousness. Hebrew scholars point out that in other parts of the Hebrew Bible, the word ma’galim is translated “entrenchments,” or, dare I say it, “ruts” that are made by the wheels of an ox-cart. According to the 23rd Psalm, therefore, to follow Christ is to get caught up within a rut, albeit a special one, since it is His rut.

I remember a short conversation I had with my Dad when I was in the early years of law practice. Being a young lawyer in the late 1970s was glamorous. It involved 80-hour work weeks, representing the firm’s clients of lesser importance, many of whom I could not stand. It was a time before the later office technology explosion, where my work in the secretarial pool was always supplanted by anything more important, and most of what the partners were doing was, of course, more important. I’d dictate a letter and read it in typed version three days later only to realize that the situation had changed and that it needed to be reworked. I didn’t fully realize this until later, but I was beginning to feel the frustrations that would inevitably lead me to Duke.

I shared my frustrations one afternoon with our Dad, who listened quietly without comment. Frustrated, I told him, “Dad, I’m in a rut and I have to get out.”

He paused for a second and then he said, “Tom, there’s nothing wrong with being in a rut, if it’s the right rut.”

Can we see that the paths of righteousness, i.e., the “ruts of righteousness,” described in Psalm 23 are all carefully prepared and crafted by our Lord? Can we come to recognize that they are made to fit our respective ox-carts just so, that they have been prepared for us by a Lord whose own path, His own ma’galim led to a hill called Golgotha? In Matthew’s gospel, Jesus put it almost the same way: “Take my yoke upon you, … for my yoke is easy and my burden is light” [Matthew 11:29-30].

Are you, like me, feeling as if you’re in a bit of a rut? Well, my friends, that’s only a problem if it’s the wrong rut. Reread the Psalm several times this week. Pray over it. Recognize that the One who gave His life for you and for me has blazed a trail of reconciliation, love, and oneness with Him and all those around us. He has fashioned a rut just for you!

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