2/22/2026 - Psalm 23, First Sunday of Lent

Scripture: Psalm 23

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not be in want.

You make me to lie down in green pastures and lead me beside still waters.

You revive my soul and guide me along right pathways for your name’s sake.

Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

You spread a table before me in the presence of those who trouble me; you have anointed my head with oil, and my cup is running over.

Surely your goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.”

~

I’m going to guess that this Psalm is one of the first ones that comes to mind whenever you hear the Psalms mentioned. It’s a fairly short, reassuring, beautiful song that applies to so much of life, both the ordinary days and the days of crisis and chaos. The Psalms come in many different forms, but they tend to get classified into a few different categories. Psalm 23 is what’s often referred to as “confidence” or “trust” Psalm, where the writer is reaffirming their trust in God. This trust is often built on a divine promise that God has made, and the Psalm is detailing how they’ve either seen God fulfill that promise, or expect God to fulfill it. In Psalm 23’s case, the Psalmist is describing their present reality of God actively fulfilling God’s promise to be present in their life. They are singing a song about how God has been faithful to them, and how they trust that God will continue to be faithful and present in their life moving forward. Just like a shepherd is present and faithful in looking after their flocks of sheep.

I invite you to imagine the still, calm lake in this passage, with only a few ripples on the water from a light breeze.

The day is warm and sunny, and the lake is surrounded by soft, dark green grass that turns into warm, smooth sand as the earth meets the waters.

There are walking trails that meander around, coming up to the lake and wandering back into the green grass, warmed by the sun.

Where are you in this scene? Are you sitting in a chair on the lake? Are you walking along the walking paths? Or are you sprawled out on a picnic blanket in the grass?

No matter where you are, I’m going to guess that this setting brings a sense of peace and rest. And that’s one of the points of this passage. The psalmist is talking about God as one who brings rest, not only commanding it but also leading us to it and helping us to achieve it. But there’s another piece to this metaphor beyond just the peace and tranquility we often associate with the first few verses.

This time, I want you to imagine a grocery store. Bright overhead lights shining down onto rows of canned goods, fresh produce, and massive fridges and freezers full of food.

Okay, I’m being facetious, but that is the other piece of this opening metaphor. By casting God as the shepherd and us as the sheep, the green pastures and still waters are not only places of tranquility, but places where food and clean water can be obtained. The grass and the waters aren’t just beautiful places to rest, they’re a place that provides the necessities for us to live. And the leading along the right paths is a metaphor for guidance, yes, but also protection, since for sheep going the wrong way could mean crossing paths with a predator or falling off of a ledge.

So all together, the first half of this Psalm is about the psalmist trusting God to provide for all of their everyday needs - food, water, protection, and yes, rest. This is care and love in the ordinary moments. The Psalmist is trusting God not only to be there in moments of crisis, which we’ll get to in a minute, but in every day, to provide the ordinary things we need to survive.

~

Out of the four everyday needs mentioned in Psalm 23, I think rest is the one we most often forget is important. Sure we know that we should get around eight hours of sleep a night, and we know that taking time to relax and recharge is important. But when life gets busy and chaotic, it’s often the first thing to fall off of the schedule. Which is why I think the psalmist says that God “makes us to lie down in green pastures,” not lets us or tells us to. God knows that we can quickly put rest to the side so we can prioritize getting that promotion, starting a new business, or making sure our kids are involved in every extracurricular they may be interested in.

But rest is what revives our souls and allows us to keep going on our journey through life. God providing rest and reviving our souls are not two distinct things necessarily, they are intertwined together. Because rest is not just important for our bodies, it’s important for our minds and our souls as well. And if we don’t listen to God and rest when God makes us, then we aren’t going to be well-rested and well-prepared when we’re standing at the mouths of dark valleys or sitting at tables we’d rather be far, far away from.

And because God cares for us in the ordinary days, the Psalmist trusts that God to provide and protect in those extraordinary days. The days where the paths turn from meandering walking trails alongside calm lakes to valleys with the mountains so high on either side that they block out the sun from morning until night.

And we’ve all been in those valleys. Whether it’s the death of a loved one, the ending of a relationship, or a medical diagnosis that came out of the blue after a routine procedure. We can suddenly find ourselves walking through shadows, with the memory of the sun at our backs but no light on the other end to walk towards.

That’s probably the most famous metaphor to come out Psalm 23 - the dark valley. And for good reason, it’s a beautiful reminder that even if we can’t see where we’re heading, even if we don’t know what might jump out of the shadows at us, God is with us, comforting us. While we may not come out of the valley unscathed, God will walk through it with us.

And the Psalmist is currently walking through that dark valley as they write this, although they don’t fear any evil because they know God, their shepherd, is with them. The rod and staff mentioned might either be describing the same thing, like a shepherd’s crook, or be two different things. Either way, it’s not just a weapon that shepherds would use to defend their flocks from attacking wolves or bears or other predators. They were also tools to guide the sheep away from danger in the first place, or to rescue them if their wool got tangled up in thickets or if they fell into crevices on the mountainsides.

So the shepherd having their shepherd’s crook or a rod and a staff isn’t just comforting because they can beat back wolves and bears. It’s comforting because even if we slip and fall and lose our way in the shadows, God is able to bring us back onto the path and keep us moving forward.

~

The Psalmist doesn’t end their song there. They could, that’s a beautiful and comforting enough promise that we could just skip to, “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.” But there’s one more metaphor before that, one that I think gets skipped over more often that not because of how it’s normally translated, and that’s the feast.

Unlike in the beginning of the Psalm, our needs are not only being met at the table, but we’re awash in abundance and blessings. Our cups run over, as it were. But it can be hard to relate to the idea of God setting out a feast in front of us in the presence of our enemies, which is often how this passage gets translated. And it’s a faithful translation to the original Hebrew, which did directly say “enemies.” And maybe you connect with that translation, and that’s great! But I really like the translation we read today, which interprets it as “those who trouble me.” I think that’s something that’s a lot easier to relate to, and we can see play out more in our everyday lives.

Because I know many of us over the past few years have struggled to sit at the same table as people who trouble us, either by their actions, their words, or how they embody the beliefs that they hold. These aren’t people we’d call our enemies. They’re people we know and love. Maybe that’s why we’re so troubled - these are tables we used to be so comfortable at, and now it feels like we’re walking a tightrope over mashed potatoes and salads.

But even in the midst of all the tension and the trouble, God is still there, making sure the table is set, the rolls are fresh and warm, and the glasses of wine are poured.

When you’re imagining this table, this feast in the presence of those who trouble you, where are those people? Are they standing in the corners of the room, watching with jealousy as you tuck into the meal? Are they sitting at the table with the feast only spread out in front of you? Or are they partaking of the same feast, but there’s something just a little more special about the food in front of you? Are you the guest of honor over the others, the oil anointing your head setting you apart from the rest of the group?

I think how we answer that question on any given can be a sign as to how we’re handling the social and cultural tensions we’re living in. sAnd on my best days, I’d like to think of this verse as describing God’s blessings as being so abundant, that it’s obvious to everyone that God is the one looking after us. And that by showing even those who trouble us the feast that God can provide, we’re inviting them into the abundant life that God wants all of us to have. An abundant life where God is present not only at that feast, but also in the ordinary days in the grass and the chaotic days in the shadowed valley.

~

So where are you in your life right now?

Are you beside still waters in green grass?

Are you walking through the valley of shadows?

Or are you at the table, navigating the tension that’s thick in the air?

Because no matter where you are on any given day, the truth woven throughout Psalm 23 remains the same:

We can trust that God will be with us.

The Psalmist knew as they walked through shadowed valleys and sat at tables full of tension and grief that they would one day return to the soft green grass and still waters.

Because if God has promised to be with us, then the Psalmist says that God will fulfill that promise. Whether in the ordinary days in the fields, the chaotic days in the valleys, or the abundant days at the feasts.

Feasts that may be just for us to start, but hopefully one day we will be joined by everyone to share in the abundance of God.

So may goodness and mercy follow us all the days of our lives, and may we all dwell in the house of the LORD forever.