The Six Longest Short Verses in the Bible
04-13-08
There is a story I came across when looking at some commentaries on the 23rd Psalm. The story, from the first century B.C., took place when much of the world was unexplored, unknown and largely unmapped. Mapmakers had to have some way of portraying those areas of the earth that were as yet unexplored, so they symbolized these regions by dragons, monsters and large fish. The message being, uncharted territories were frightening, fearsome places. "The story is this:
One commander of a battalion of Roman soldiers was caught up in a battle that took him into the territory that the mapmakers had represented with their monsters and dragons. Not knowing whether to forge ahead into the unknown, or turn back into the known, which would also be a retreat, he dispatched a messenger to Rome with this urgent request: ‘Please send new orders. We have marched off the map.’" 1
Today in 2008 we too are marching off the map of what has been and what is to come. Today we find ourselves in uncharted territory as we march of the technological, political, environmental, economic, demographic, some may even argue theological map. I can think of one map in particular that has the key words to help us navigate these sometimes exciting, often terrifying realms; the 23rd Psalm.
For most of us, there is nothing new about the 23rd Psalm. It has been the most recited Psalm in history. t has calmed many a person in times of crisis, with its image of cool waters and green pastures, and a Shepherd who guides us through the darkest valleys. There is likely nothing new that I can add to the powerful imagery, of this song of Trust, yet it is always good to be reminded that we have a map that has lasted centuries, and one that will continue to guide us throughout history.
The power of Psalm 23 comes from its use of two key words: though and through -- the same word except for a single letter "r." As we shall see, it is the one little letter that makes all the difference in the world. It is the letter that can turn your "though" into a "through." Psalm 23 is attributed to King David. David started as an innocent shepherd-boy, and he knew the truth behind that first word "though" -- there are dangers lurking around every corner. As a shepherd boy tending the precious flocks of his father, David was charged with safely leading them through the deep, treacherous ravines that crisscrossed the Judean wilderness. In many places, passage through these narrow chasms was reduced to a single-file stretch, winding its way along cliffs and rocks rife with hiding places for all manner of creatures (wild hyenas, wolves, robbers), not to mention the danger of rock slides. Such a treacherous path was dubbed a "glen of gloom" or a "valley of the death-shadow."
There was no "if" about the reality of life's obstacles and problems. Psalm 23 faces the inevitable. It proclaims not "if" but "though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death ...." Just like David, we all know life not to be a life full of green pastures and overflowing cup and anointed hair. We all experience times of abundance and times of scarcity, times of comfort and times of anxiety and fear. Sometimes we're not resting by the shore of still waters but struggling in the darkest, scariest, most overwhelming valleys. Every one of us has a valley. Some of us have struggled in the valley we've been given at birth, a valley of poverty, or abuse, or disability. Some of us, born into the green pastures of plenty, immediately proceed to dig our own valleys, via addictions, violence, and ignorance.
But while we are "walking", the text doesn't mention running, the "valley of the shadow," the Bible teaches that God is with us and that the God with us bears all the sufferings and pains of the world and the hurts of our scared, scarred souls. God is with us in whatever we face, and with us not matter how rotten our choices are.
"Though" none of us gets out of life without walking the valley, the psalmist makes it plain that God does not intend for us to sojourn there forever. The valley of the shadow is something one goes through. Valleys are not resting places, but passageways. We can walk through our problems; some for simply than others. We can walk through our sorrows; sometimes it takes years. We can walk through our pain; only by the help of our Good Shepherd. We can walk through our screw-ups; we sheep will make a few of them in our lives. What Psalm 23 promises us is that, in all these journeys, the Lord will walk through with us.
"Though" and "through" differ only by one small letter -- the letter "r." In American Sign Language, "r" is made by crossing the middle finger over the index finger. Ever "cross your fingers" for luck? Did you know you were making an ancient Christian symbol of faith, a bodily demonstration of faith in God's protective, caring nature? In the first centuries of the Church, when Christianity was wholly illegal and Christians were vigorously persecuted, believers found ways to communicate their faith in subtle ways. Accompanying a greeting or farewell, crossed fingers were a code sign, identifying Christians to one another as "people of the cross." The crossed fingers were a mute symbol for the cross of Christ and the redemption Christ's death on that cross brought to all people.
Today, crossed fingers mean something very different. What do they mean when placed behind one’s back, for instance (They mean that one doesn't mean what one is saying)? Or what do they mean when held in one’s lap (they mean one is hoping something will or will not come to pass)? It was the Christians who first invented "crossed fingers," and they had nothing to do with luck, and everything to do with trust in God. If you are able I invite you to take a moment and cross your fingers. This is what the crossed fingers of the letter "r," the difference that turns a "though" into a "through," still mean to the believer today. Though we may walk in the darkness of the valley of the shadow, we are not alone. God is with us. Walking through the valley with us is the one who suffered and died for our sake: The Crucified One.
Psalm 23 suggests a simplicity of trust, it is a trust that lies on the other side of a life spent dealing with the complexities of conflict and fear; a trust that God is and will remain at the very center of our being. The knowledge that we are never alone, never deserted, even in the "depths" of this valley, instills a peace of mind and heart that is unexpected on such a dark and frightening journey. Notice: The enemies of life are not blotted out; the "valley of the shadow of death" remains a destination for all of us. But it is not our final destiny. We are marching off the map, but we march with a community of believers who have marched off the map before, and we march with a Shepherd who cares for us deeply and guides us to make the best decisions we can. This song of trust ends with these words, "Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long." The Hebrew word for "follow" is actually the word "pursue." Suddenly goodness and mercy are not like two little puppies following close behind, tails wagging. Goodness and mercy are the hounds of heaven pursuing those lost and overwhelmed in the valleys.
Together friends, we walk through the valleys, some of ours more treacherous than others. Every valley is relative and challenging. Turn to the map that reminds you of a Shepherd who turns "thoughs" into "throughs". For this familiar song of trust sings a daring song of hope. This may seem a simple message this morning, but I see a world where hope and trust are slowly being replaced by fear and skepticism. I see a world arming themselves with guns and sarcasm. I see a world that lives as if we expect that the valley is where we will remain our entire lives. This may seem a simple message this morning, but hope, trust, and love, is what will lead this congregation into uncharted territory with the confidence of Christ’s presence. There is always hope. Our "thoughs" can be transformed to "throughs." It is a difficult journey sometimes, but the Shepherd is with us.
Let us recite this song of trust:
"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his names sake. 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. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever." Thanks be to God. Amen
1 Story provided by Rev. Bob Taylor, in the March-April 2008 edition of Homiletics. This can be found under the same title as the sermon at www.homileticsonline.com .
Blessings,
Melissa