Psalm 23 Vignettes

Psalm 23 is a series of vignettes or scenes describing David’s felt sense of God’s presence, protection, and provision. It is David at his best, riffing on what it feels like for him to lean into and trust this reality. I have spent some time and taken some poetic license to do the same, feeling and embodying these wonderful scenes.

Scene 1: Green Pastures

I am a lamb, brilliant and pure white, in repose after a complete meal. I am lying in a lush cool even bed of grass, which just moments ago served as my food source. I am content - my gut feels at ease, satisfied, no longer hungry, no longer desiring or seeking. There is no discomfort, no sense of having overeaten. I am in a “just right” state. The sunlight dances over my soft warm woolly coat, gently filtered by the lush branches of a nearby tree. It is perfectly warm, with no need for any adjustment. The moment is sublime. I lack nothing. My mind is occupied with this wonderful sense of satisfaction, contentment, and pure peace.

Scene 2: Quiet Waters

He leads me here. He wants me to see this scene. The water before me is not exactly like glass, instead there is a gentle, steady ripple. There is no sense of turbulence or unease. The water flows delicately and predictably. The sunlight dances, reflecting, sparkling on the multitude of small smooth wet ridges. The presence of this thirst-quenching source is reassuring but at the moment I am content, satiated, quenched. The sound and sight are calming, restoring, seeping deep down into my soul. “Peace, be still” he says, and I realize he is speaking to me, not to the already calm waters, and then I realize that I am, in some inexplicable way, mirroring the water, I am deeply still.

Scene 3: Right Paths

He gently leads me on with quiet invitation. I notice before me a well-worn path, narrow but not uncomfortably so, demarcated by shoulder high uniform blades of grass, gently waving in the light breeze as I pass by. Sunlight streams through the perforated canopy illuminating and magnifying the lush green landscape. I get the sense that many have walked this path before me. It is gently undulating and seems light and easy – it seems right, like a glove to a hand, a perfect fit. It’s odd but I experience his presence both behind and before me, as well as above and over me. He is continually leading, following, and protecting. He surrounds me. I feel his pleasure as I follow this path. The warmth of his smile bathes me.

Scene 4: The Valley of the Shadow

I enter a darker place. The ground much harder, less stable, the path less straight and sure. The landscape is granite and coarse gravel. There are moments of stumbling and staggering. Hard outcroppings of rock provide an uneven edge. There are multiple turns in the path with jagged boulders bordering, forcing my way to an unknown destination. This, combined with the fading light and deep shadows makes vision limited, the steps ahead uncertain. Even in this moment, as fear begins to rise, I become aware of that same presence, His presence, palpable and sure. In this moment it seems even more personal somehow. My language in this dark and dreaded place becomes more intimate. Rather than “he leads me” I voice aloud “you lead me, you are with me.” I feel his rod and his staff intermittently just at the moment of need, gently touching my shoulders right and left, reassuring me, guiding me. “I am here.” Fear subsides, stillness returns.

Scene 5: The Table

I emerge into a sunbathed meadow, a carpet of calf-high sinewy grass sprinkled with wildflowers. I look down and recognize that my hooves have been restored to my more familiar human legs. I scan the landscape and notice a table in the mid-distance. As I approach, a wonderful abundance takes shape, a feast has been laid. He seems to have sensed the culinary desires of my heart. There is nothing on the table that would not, in this moment entice and completely satisfy. There is no turnip, no liver, no lard. There is an abundance of fresh fruit, local and tropical. Cheeses – oh my – the cheeses known and unknown waiting to be explored. And chocolate – milk and dark, plain and studded with nuts. Huge plates of vegetables, fresh from the garden beside long skewers of melt-in-your-mouth barbecued steak. A perfectly pared Merlot patiently awaits consumption.

As I approach my chair preoccupied with the bounty, I glance across the table and see my enemy Bob seated there. I barely recognize him. He looks younger, the wrinkles and furrowed brow have disappeared. His jaw is relaxed. His countenance is bright. There is amazingly a suggestion of a spontaneous welcoming smile emerging. I realize he too has been in His presence. He too has been bathed in the warmth of His smile. He has been in the green pasture, beside the still waters, and on the right path. He, as I, has been through the Valley of the Shadow. And here he is, with me, with us, a mutual invitation to the table. I sit down and look into his eyes, and I see peace and love and forgiveness and, I sense, he sees the same, for that is all I am feeling in his presence and in the presence of our mutual Host. Yes, there are words that need to be spoken and history to review, forgiveness to be asked and granted. But for now, we both bask in the Presence, bathed in the love that permeates and infuses this meadow, this table, this rich feast.

After supper our Host stands and approaches us both and pours the oil of the Spirit all over us – a rich, warm, viscous liquid flowing down – first touching scalp and face then shoulders, arms, trunk, and legs. Soaking, saturating, soothing, baptizing. I feel strangely, intimately addressed, touched as his favorite in the company of favorites. I look over at my wine glass which is now overflowing. Such abundance, such love infused and effused, continuously flowing.

Scene 6: Goodness and Mercy

I reluctantly arise from this bountiful scene and begin to walk away from the table. There is, in the meadow, a natural path before me opening up in the grass. As I leave, the fragrance of the feast, of forgiveness, of relationship restored, lingers and lasts. I walk into the sunlight of a new day, every day from here on in, my arms outstretched in joyful receptivity, dancing and basking in the light and warmth of unfiltered sunshine.

Again, I am aware of his persistent unfailing presence. I gradually notice another presence following behind me. Now I seem to be the shepherd, and two sheep follow me. These two are brilliant white bundles of fluffy wool attentively keeping pace. I laugh. I notice they have names. Behind and to my left is “Goodness.” Behind and to my right is “Mercy” (Shirley is nowhere to be seen). It seems that as I walk, I leave a trail of dust (kind of like Charles Schultz’s lovable character Pigpen) which threatens to disturb the pristine landscape. No sooner does this occur than faithful Goodness and Mercy follow me intervening, their woolly coats seemingly unlimited in their capacity to absorb and cleanse my “stuff.” Some of my stuff, my dusty trail, comes from bad things that happen to me, through no fault of my own. This dirt and dust Goodness takes care of (for we know that all things work together for good to those who love God). There is other stuff, however, the dust and dirt of my own making, my sin. Mercy makes short work of this, her coat reminding me of the Lamb of God who shed his blood for me to expunge my sin, making me white as snow. These two sheep, I realize, are visual images of what I have been experiencing previously - his presence, providing and protecting, loving and forgiving, overcoming evil, continually and doggedly following me and keeping me in a state of shalom, peace and rest for my soul.

I now look ahead, and see His house, the house of the Lord. The place he has prepared for me where I long to dwell. This space where he has chosen to make his home with me, to abide with me forever. And, with joy, I recognize that this house, this home, this place of abiding with, has, in a way, been with me all along the way. It is the home of my desire. It is Presence personified as was the pasture, the stream, the path, the valley, the meadow, the feast, the flowing oil and overflowing cup, as well as my faithful companions Goodness and Mercy.

Wherever I am, there you are. In your presence there is fullness of joy.

To Look on You (song based on psalm 23, 27 and 63)

To look on you

To look on you

This one thing I seek

This one thing I seek

To gaze on your glory

To see your face

To dwell in your house

Forevermore

To sit in your presence

To hear you sing

To be in your embrace

Forevermore

To look on you

To look on you

This one thing I seek

This one thing I seek

My soul thirsts for you

My flesh faints for you

My heart cries out for you

And I cling to you

Under your wing

Your right hand upholds me

And I’m satisfied

With a rich feast

Your love is better than life

Your love is better than life

Your love is better than life

To look on you

To look on you

This one thing I seek

This one thing I seek