COLUMN: Grey Matters – A hospital chaplain reflects on Psalm 23 – Part 2

“As a kid, I was taught that if you opened the Bible in the middle you’d probably land on the book of Psalms. And near the middle is everyone’s favorite, the 23rd, there is this line: “You prepare a table before in the presence of my enemies.” I don’t know how many times I’ve read or recited this Psalm without pondering what that line actually means, but here is my take on it. When things are a bit tense, when life is not going at its best, when the potential for disaster is just around the corner, when your enemies are all around you – and even staring you down! – that’s when God lays out the red-checkered picnic cloth and says, “Oooo, this is a nice place. Let’s hang out here together for a while…just you and me.” ―David Brazzeal

As a hospital chaplain, I never tire of reading Psalm 23 aloud. The words are familiar, yet each time I speak them at a bedside, another jewel catches the light. This week, I share a few more of those precious gems starting with verse four to the end.

4 “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.” Wait a moment! Didn’t the Psalmist just say that ‘God leads us in paths of righteousness’ in the previous verse? How, then, can those same paths pass through the valley of death? Maybe Psalm 23 is quite realistic. The righteous path is not a detour around suffering but often winds directly through it. Every one of us must enter that valley. The promise is not that we will avoid it, but that we will not walk it alone. The Shepherd enters the darkness with us. The staff comforts us by drawing us closer to Him and the rod is also comforting in that it keeps danger away.

5 “Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.” Do you remember being asked to set the table for company? For many of us, the table was where family gathered, stories were shared, and love was served alongside the meal. Hospitality mattered. The table was a place of welcome. Remarkably, this verse pictures God as the host. He carefully sets the table for us, honours us and the provisions flow. May we not focus on the evil around us but enjoy the God who sets the table for us and pours the drinks.

6 “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.” While in the hospital, some of us begin to ruminate on the regrets we have from the mistakes made in our younger years. The good news is that God is always at work for the good. Like a mother following behind her toddler, quietly cleaning up spills and straightening what has gone awry, God follows after us with grace, redeeming what seems beyond repair. His goodness and mercy comes after you and makes things good again. And then comes the final promise. After the long journey through green pastures, still waters, and even the valley of the shadow of death, there awaits a home. Not merely a place to visit, but a place to dwell. What a rich and comforting word. To dwell is to belong, to rest, to be welcomed and never be asked to leave. And we will dwell there forever. The mind can scarcely grasp such a promise. Not a small corner in heaven, not a granny suite on the edge of glory, but God’s own house! At the end of the earthly journey, the Shepherd brings His sheep home.