Dear one,
Only but six years ago did I truly ponder Psalm 23:1-2a: “The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures.” Oh, without question, as a child I memorized these ancient words, but because of their familiarity, I had not approached them as I might other, less familiar texts. However, when I did so, I made a discovery, which has been of great encouragement to me:
Although the King James Version, and most every other English translation since, rendersverse 1 as: “The LORD is my shepherd”, both the Hebrew and the Greek texts read: “The LORD shepherds me.” Admittedly, if someone “shepherds me,” then most certainly that person is my shepherd; nonetheless, a nuanced distinction exists between the two. The prevailing translation: “The LORD is my shepherd” implies a static, almost formal position: this is who He is; whereas, “The LORD shepherds me” depicts one who acts: this is what He does. The stress here is not upon His essential position, but rather upon His actions: He acts on my behalf and does so as a shepherd.
From of this distinction: that He deliberately acts on my behalf, that He guides and directs me, I receive great comfort. Moreover, when I truly give pause for thought and reflection, I know that, because of His Presence, I have never truly lacked—never truly experienced dire destitution. Too true: I have known great physical and emotional pain; at moments I have felt abandoned; and at other moments my desires and wants and needs have become an overwhelming mass of confusion; but even in those moments, somewhere and somehow in the midst, He has comforted, encouraged, and exhorted, all for my wellbeing.
Nowhere in my experience is this more evident than in His, literally, “making me lie down in a habitation of grass.” Presumably “a habitation of grass” is not unlike “green pastures”; but that literalism to the side, of greater import is this: shepherds need to rest their sheep, or more likely, sheep do not recognize their need for rest. Whether their lack stems from stupidity and/or hyper-stimulation, I do not know; but this I know: two days ago I had a twenty-four-hour flu, in part because I eshew rest. Over the past fifty years I have observed: I rest when I become sick. It’s as though our Good Shepherd says: “Okay, Stan, if you refuse to rest, I’ll make you rest …”
I wonder: Are you resting?
Needing the Shepherd’s touch,
Stan