Psalm 23 from South Woods Baptist Church on Vimeo.

This is an intimidating text.

There’s no shortage of books on the Psalms. But, there are a lot of Psalms. So, if you’re teaching one of them, you have to thumb through the commentary’s table of contents to see whether or not it deals with the Psalm you’re teaching. However, that’s not really the case with Psalm 23. Pick a book off the shelf; turn to the index; and only on the rarest of occasions will you not find a few pages discussing our text today. Everyone has a history with this Psalm.

Wednesday night I mentioned to a few people that I was prepping to preach Psalm 23 this Sunday. Even though I’d already spent a good amount of time studying and reading on this famous Psalm, both of these guys––just off the top of their head––said multiple things about this Psalm I’d yet to consider.

And that’s just two off the cuff conversations. If I chose to interview each one of you, I’m certain the accumulated love and knowledge of this Psalm would be massive. Most of us have seasons of our lives where Psalm 23 ministered to us. We love it.

Of course, the flip side is that some of us might be tempted to think it’s been overdone. I don’t have to challenge you to memorize it; you’ve done so in two translations.

So, in preparation for today, I had to come to two conclusions.

1. This won’t be the final sermon on Psalm 23. I read a bunch of folks on this Psalm, all of them with a slightly different angle. In other words, each said something the last guy didn’t. Today will be no different. I won’t say it all. Nor will I exhaust the glory of it.

2. This shouldn’t be the final sermon on Psalm 23. I’ve not heard this text too much. Studying this week only confirmed that. For example, I’m not sure I’ve ever understood verse five rightly until this week.

So, stay with me. Do your best to hear it afresh. It’s the most famous of Psalms, not because it looks nice in a frame, but because it settles us, steadies us, and restores us.

We’re going to study it under three headings.

First,

1. The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want

Novel, right? This is the first point of the sermon because it’s the first point of the text. It’s not merely one piece of the puzzle; it’s the heading under which the first four verses lie.

There are indicative truths, which if we believe them to be true, affect us profoundly. This is one of those. If I Am is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.

This indicative statement begins with imagery that is quasi–unique. I found Kenneth Bailey’s comment to be enlightening, “The images for God used throughout the Psalter have a distinctive ‘homeland security’ ring to them.”[1] You know these images, and rightly treasure them, but many of them fit that theme: Shield, Fortress, High Tower, Refuge, Rock, and Stronghold. Again, we don’t chagrin those images, but this one of Psalm 23 sits in a different category than those.

The Lord is a Shepherd. This isn’t entirely unique to Psalm 23, as Psalm 78 calls the Lord a Shepherd, as do a few other passages.[2]

However isn’t it fascinating that David––the shepherd––calls Him this? David grew up on the farm, as it were, and while in the field observed more than one correlation. Rather than flattering us here, implying that we’re lions, eagles, or some admirable animal, David sees humanity bleating and bah’ing. He knew the tendencies of sheep. He would know how the average shepherd took care of them. Further, He would know what the best of them would do.

A. Food and Rest

Which is what he begins describing in verse 2. If the Lord is my shepherd, he makes me lie down in green pastures.

Now, I don’t know about you, but my bucket list doesn’t include the item, “Lay down in as many green pastures as humanly possible.” I love Shelby Farms, but not that much. So, keep in mind that you’re a sheep here. I wonder if this is why kids love this Psalm so much; they’re glad to pretend.

Why would lying down in grass be appealing? First, the pasture is green[...]