Since grasping the nature of relationship can be a little abstract, it is expressive of
God’s love for his people that he communicates in his word by way of metaphor –
particularly when describing how he relates to us, his people. Father. Fortress.
Husband. Vine. Friend.
Drawing from the 23rd, we’ve begun considering what it means that God is to us a
“shepherd”. David opens this poem by making a confident assertion about his
future “OK-ness” based on the current knowledge that God shepherds him.
“The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want.”
David will then enumerate the many ways that God the shepherd cares for us his
sheep. Derek Kidner says of this passage, “David uses the most comprehensive
and intimate metaphor yet encountered in the Psalms . . . the shepherd lives with
his flock and is everything to it: guide, physician and protector. The green pastures,
or grassy meadows, and the ‘waters to rest by’ . . . are mentioned first because
they show how the shepherd, unlike the hireling, thinks and observes in terms of his
flock. He would be poor at the job if he did not; as inadequate as the father who has
not learnt to think and feel as a family man. God would not have taken on a flock, a
family, if he had not intended that he and they should be bound up with one
another”.
“He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.
He restores my soul.”
The language in this passage suggests invitation rather than compulsion, a point
less apparent in our English translations. He permits me to lie down in green
pastures. Though it is not compulsory, we know the goodness of rest when it is
needed. There are times (aren’t there?) when rest is just necessary. At those points,
we don’t lie down because the clock tells us to; we lie down because perpendicular
is no longer an option. The day is done. We’re depleted. Sleep is not one possibility
among a range of options. It is the option. God has designed us to manage well for
hours at a time without sleep, but at regular daily intervals, our bodies weaken to
the point that we can go no further. Mercifully, God choreographed earth’s rotation
and relationship to the sun in order that life may unfold in day-long segments (then
accompanied this decree with a call to daily rest). “Do not worry about
tomorrow”, Jesus said, “for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough
trouble of its own” (Matthew 6:34). We must sleep. This is a daily kindness from
God. It is also a humbling, daily reminder of our dependence. It is a daily reflection
of the gospel – where we abandon our work and rest completely. As we lie down
and rise up, it is a daily rehearsal of the resurrection. We were meant to rest.
God’s love for his people that he communicates in his word by way of metaphor –
particularly when describing how he relates to us, his people. Father. Fortress.
Husband. Vine. Friend.
Drawing from the 23rd, we’ve begun considering what it means that God is to us a
“shepherd”. David opens this poem by making a confident assertion about his
future “OK-ness” based on the current knowledge that God shepherds him.
“The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want.”
David will then enumerate the many ways that God the shepherd cares for us his
sheep. Derek Kidner says of this passage, “David uses the most comprehensive
and intimate metaphor yet encountered in the Psalms . . . the shepherd lives with
his flock and is everything to it: guide, physician and protector. The green pastures,
or grassy meadows, and the ‘waters to rest by’ . . . are mentioned first because
they show how the shepherd, unlike the hireling, thinks and observes in terms of his
flock. He would be poor at the job if he did not; as inadequate as the father who has
not learnt to think and feel as a family man. God would not have taken on a flock, a
family, if he had not intended that he and they should be bound up with one
another”.
“He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.
He restores my soul.”
The language in this passage suggests invitation rather than compulsion, a point
less apparent in our English translations. He permits me to lie down in green
pastures. Though it is not compulsory, we know the goodness of rest when it is
needed. There are times (aren’t there?) when rest is just necessary. At those points,
we don’t lie down because the clock tells us to; we lie down because perpendicular
is no longer an option. The day is done. We’re depleted. Sleep is not one possibility
among a range of options. It is the option. God has designed us to manage well for
hours at a time without sleep, but at regular daily intervals, our bodies weaken to
the point that we can go no further. Mercifully, God choreographed earth’s rotation
and relationship to the sun in order that life may unfold in day-long segments (then
accompanied this decree with a call to daily rest). “Do not worry about
tomorrow”, Jesus said, “for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough
trouble of its own” (Matthew 6:34). We must sleep. This is a daily kindness from
God. It is also a humbling, daily reminder of our dependence. It is a daily reflection
of the gospel – where we abandon our work and rest completely. As we lie down
and rise up, it is a daily rehearsal of the resurrection. We were meant to rest.
There are points when rest is not so much necessary but nice. Last June, Katie and I
hiked up to Gregory Bald from Parsons Branch Road to see the flame azaleas. The
day was warm and clear, the views spectacular and the breeze was perfect. After
sharing one another’s snacks, we laid back on the grass and rested for a long while.
It was nice. We would have been fine without it, but that hour stretched out in the
sunlight on that grassy bald had its restorative effect.
This is my verbose way of saying that our shepherd knows what we need and will
give us restorative seasons of rest. We know, of course, that the green pastures and
still waters were meant as images, but rest in every form is a gift from God. “It is in
vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for
he gives to his beloved sleep”. (Psalm 127:2). If you follow a typical schedule, you’ll
taste this sometime in the next few hours. You’ll close up the house, lock all the
doors, turn out the lights, set the thermostat, brush and floss and then stretch out
(hopefully under a heavy comforter, between nice crisp high thread count
sheets). Receive this as a gift from your good shepherd who delights to give
you rest. And may your last conscious moments of this day be filled with thoughts
of praise. For God is good. So very, very good.
day was warm and clear, the views spectacular and the breeze was perfect. After
sharing one another’s snacks, we laid back on the grass and rested for a long while.
It was nice. We would have been fine without it, but that hour stretched out in the
sunlight on that grassy bald had its restorative effect.
This is my verbose way of saying that our shepherd knows what we need and will
give us restorative seasons of rest. We know, of course, that the green pastures and
still waters were meant as images, but rest in every form is a gift from God. “It is in
vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for
he gives to his beloved sleep”. (Psalm 127:2). If you follow a typical schedule, you’ll
taste this sometime in the next few hours. You’ll close up the house, lock all the
doors, turn out the lights, set the thermostat, brush and floss and then stretch out
(hopefully under a heavy comforter, between nice crisp high thread count
sheets). Receive this as a gift from your good shepherd who delights to give
you rest. And may your last conscious moments of this day be filled with thoughts
of praise. For God is good. So very, very good.