This morning, Bridget and I read what Dane Ortlund called “the most famous poem
ever written.” For most of us, it was our earliest introduction to Hebrew poetry and
its sweetness only deepens as we examine it more closely. I thought we’d take a
few weeks and look at it together. Today, we’ll consider the first line which, no
doubt, is as familiar to you as any passage in Scripture.
The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
There are many questions that we could use to examine this passage: Author?
Genre? Evocative words? Setting? Let’s ask three:
Who is it that shepherds us?
What does a shepherd do for his flock?
What confidence does this produce in us?
It’s worth noting that God’s covenant name Jahweh is used (this is easily identifiable
in our English translations as all four letters of the word “LORD” tend to be capitalized). This
name, first used during Moses’ encounter in Exodus 3 and appearing in all but three
Old Testament books, has particular reference to his eternality, self-existence,
covenant faithfulness, and unchanging character. It is this God who tenderly
shepherds his own. It might further benefit us to remember all that a shepherd does
in caring for his flock. The flock is known to the shepherd. When they are hungry, he
feeds them. When they are in peril, he protects them. When they stray, he pursues
and finds them. When they are injured, he tends their wounds. There is more, I’m
sure. The point is that we are comforted in the knowledge that our faithful God is a
tender shepherd, a confidence that grows as we consider its personal effect. This
psalm would be weakened were it to read, “The LORD is a shepherd”. It is good to
remember that everything God is as a shepherd, he is to us.
So, what does all that mean?
The verb tenses in the two halves of this couplet are noteworthy (is and shall). In
the first half, David says something is; in the second half, he says something will be.
In other words, David was able to make confident assertions about his unseen
future based on something that is currently true. The LORD is my shepherd.
I shall not want. Were I to put this in my own words, it might sound like this:
Since God (in all of his glorious perfections) is a shepherd to me, I’m going to be OK.
Do you believe that?
Let’s be honest. Our confessed theology can tend to be more orthodox than our
actual, ground-level operational theology. We confess that God wisely superintends
our lives, bringing only what serves his glory and our permanent good. Yet, the
temptation is strong to claim a form of faux-sovereignty that might prompt us to
self-shepherd.
What needs to be in place in your life for you to be able to express the confidence
that David did at the end of verse 1? What do you need to experience shalom? In
other words, what will it take for you to be OK?
Most people have a pretty good idea of what it would take. I can imagine a range of
responses to this question.
Maybe you would say, “Ronnie, I just need my primary relationships in life to be
intact. I need a job, a handful of trusted friends, and 8 hours of sleep at night. I need
to maintain an income slightly above a moderate threshold. I just want my coffee
hot, gas prices to level off and three weeks off every year. I need my guy in office. I
need the aphids to stay out of my tomatoes. I want people in my community to be
attentive to my needs (except when I don’t want them to be). I want them to stay
out of my business until I want them in my business. Then I want them in.
Then, I’ll be OK. I want the Braves to contend for the National League pennant, my neighbor
to rake his yard and my phone to hold its charge. I need people to stop micromanaging,
gossiping, littering and sending one-letter responses to texts. K? I want my daughter
to listen to me and my husband to listen to me, and Verizon Customer Service to listen to me.
I need winter to be shorter and spring to come sooner. I need a nap. I need a promotion.”
We could go on. Your list will look different than mine, but it might do us all good to
remember our actual need.
We need a shepherd. Let us establish that in our minds. If we are to be sure that we
lack nothing good, we must be faithfully shepherded. That is our great need.
You don’t want to defend yourself in court. You don’t want to teach yourself to
hang-glide. You don’t want to surgically remove your own appendix. You may not
even want to do your own taxes. You certainly don’t want to be my own shepherd.
We need a shepherd. That’s it. And if that is in place, then we can confidently assert
that we will not lack anything that serves our permanent good.
So, I ask. Is that enough for you? Is it enough for you that your eternal, self-existent,
faithful and immutable God is a shepherd to you?
If you can be sure of that, then you will not want. You’re going to be OK.