The Psalmist Was a “Coder”

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 [Psalm 23:4].

One of the many personal advantages of living here in Durham is my proximity to one of my alma maters, Duke Divinity School. As you may know, for almost 20 years, I worked either on or near Duke’s campus. The Div School library is in a category of its own. Only Yale and Princeton would have anything like it. Prior to the pandemic, the Div School also sponsored numerous seminars, discussion groups, and other gatherings. During the pandemic, it has managed educational opportunities quite well. During one “Zoom” session featuring Will Willimon and Stanley Hauerwas, more than 1,000 folks “zoomed in.”

About a decade ago, I was one of many participants at a Div School sermon “workshop” led by some of the South’s best preachers. The usual suspects—Will Willimon, Tom Long, Barbara Brown Taylor, Rick Lischer, and others—were there. I recall that I attended a session whose goal was to help the preacher breathe freshness into those sorts of texts with which a congregation is perhaps all too familiar. During the discussion, one of the participants asked the three or four persons on the dais what could “be done” with the Twenty-Third Psalm?

One of the session leaders, the Rev. Dr. James Howell, Senior Pastor of Myers Park United Methodist Church in Charlotte since 2003—I thought Methodist ministers had to itinerate—offered a quick retort that I thought was spot on. He said something like, “If the Lord is my shepherd, then I am a sheep, and the reason sheep need a shepherd is simple: sheep nibble themselves lost.”

Howell went on to explain that without a shepherd, a sheep nibbles a bit of grass here, a bit of grass there, sees a patch a bit further, spies yet some more grass among those rocks near the edge of the ravine, …. You get the picture. Pretty soon, the sheep is lost, or has fallen into the ravine, or is eaten by a pack of wolves. It happens so gradually that the sheep never notices his/her “march” toward oblivion. And that’s, of course, why we sheep need a shepherd.

We see it in our own lives. He takes a bit of a short cut here. She meanders over to that “edgy” group of folks over there. He thinks to himself, “I’ll suspend my good judgment for just a bit while I shore up my financial resources,” or perhaps, “I’ll curry favor with that despicable person since I need her/his support in one of my own endeavors.” We ignore the cruelty shown by some; at least they aren’t directing their close-minded prejudices toward us. That, my friends, is nibbling a bit here, a bit there, until one or more of us is lost.

We need a shepherd to keep us from wandering. And yet, we need more than a mere shepherd. In that fashion, the well-known Twenty-Third reveals an important truth: we need a particular Shepherd—Yahweh. Only when Yahweh is our shepherd are we in a position to want for nothing [Psalm 23:1, a portion of Psalm 23, one of the two, alternative readings from the Psalter, Eighth Sunday After Pentecost, RCL, Year B]. For, indeed, only when Yahweh is our shepherd, do we have the one thing all humanity desires—even those who won’t admit it—“oneness” with God. It is only when we “have” God—we, of course, cannot possess God—that we have all we need, for without Yahweh, we can have everything else, and we are still empty.

The Carolina Arbors Bible Study moved off on a tangent this morning. With me at the helm, that is a common occurrence. Long story that I won’t go into here—we were finishing Hebrews and knowing that it wouldn’t take the entire hour, I had told the group last week that I might tell them a DaVinci Code-like story about the shortest book in the Bible, Philemon. I’ve never seen the movie—the DaVinci Code, that is. They haven’t yet made a movie out of Philemon. For my money, the theory that the Bible has these so-called “secrets” that offer themselves up if you know the correct password or the cipher key is a bunch of hog wash (if that’s not what the Tom Hanks movie is about, remember, I haven’t seen it). Yahweh doesn’t seem interested in hiding His Truth from humanity. Instead, Yahweh seeks us out. God the Son was sent to us, after all, to show us what God is like. Jesus himself said He is the Truth, the Way, the Life. It’s no secret.

Anyway, back to issue of codes, or lack thereof, this morning I laughed with the CA Bible Study group as I told them that there’s a “code” in the middle of Psalm 23; only it’s in plain view. It doesn’t need a key or a password.

You see, I think Yahweh and, therefore, the Psalmist, understood that this Psalm would become the favorite of all who heard it. This would be the one that would be memorized, taken to heart, treasured by so many, over so long a period of time. And why? Because if one is in trouble, if one is bewildered, or lonely, or afraid, this is the Psalm that soothes one’s heart. If like sheep, we have nibbled our way into the wilderness, until we fret that we might be lost, we hear these gentle, assuring words from the Psalmist, and our hearts turn back with confidence toward the Shepherd.

Here’s the code: As pointed out by Professor James Limburg, noted Lutheran scholar [see his commentary entitled, Psalms (Westminster John Knox Press, 2000)], in the original Hebrew of Psalm 23, there are exactly 26 words before, and 26 words after the statement, “Thou art with me,” found in verse 4. It is as if Yahweh and the Psalmist want us to recognize and understand that no matter what is going on around us, Yahweh is at the center of our lives.

For those who are enduring the pain of broken relationships, for those who mourn the loss of friends and/or family, for those who have experienced extraordinary loneliness during the pandemic, for those whose financial security may have been shaken, for those who face tough decisions about their work or family life, for those who are ill, and particularly for our dear friend who currently walks through the darkest valley—the friend whom within these meditations, I have called “Nick”—repeat after me these four words from the middle of Psalm 23, “Thou art with me.”

Say them again.

Thanks be to God.