Street Prophets offers up Psalm 23 today in the on-going Progressive Bible Study. I will let PD speak for himself as to how he would interpret this most famous Hebrew poem. I have often thought the Psalm an interesting one to offer as comfort. As Pastor Dan notes, it is used at funerals (I have recited it more than I can remember at them), and seems to offer a real boon to those who are seeking some kind of solace. I think, however, that it is as much as question of familiarity and tradition - in the midst of loss we look for whatever anchors of our old life may still be around - as any real assistance the Psalm contains in and of itself.
I would like to focus right now on the most interesting set of couplets within the Psalm, verses 4-5a. To quote from the long-ago memorized King James version, "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for thou art with me/Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies. . ." What kind of protector would lead one through the "valley of the shadow of death"? What kind of shepherd "preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies"? Obviously, a shepherd does these things, leading the herd through areas where wolves and lions sit in wait, pasturing herds in full view of hunting packs of both. Yet, does this not make the protection the shepherd offers somewhat more equivocal than it is usually presented?
I want to ask a simple question with what I think is a disturbing answer - Is there real protection being offered here, or the mere promise of presence in the face of danger? Not only are we told that God will lead us through the valley of the shadow of death, but God will sit us down with our enemies at a common table. There is no offer of comfort or protection here; in fact, there seems to be only the realistic assertion that whatever protection we might feel is merely a presence. Further, it seems to me that the offer of communion with one's enemies isn't so much comfort as a very real threat.
All of this leads me to believe the author of this Psalm was far more realistic about who God is than our own sentiment-drenched reading would allow. We face that fear-filled valley with only the promise of presence - no guarantees we will make it through. God's comfort does not include any promises that our lives will be easy or free from pain, sorrow, or even death. Rather, all we are given is a promise that God will be there, even as we face our enemies, and the last enemy.
Any thoughts?
