Sermons / The Book of Psalms / The Lord Is My Shepherd
Psalm 23 · Expository Sermon

The Lord Is My Shepherd

Series: The Book of Psalms Episode 15

Goodness and mercy do not merely meet us; they pursue us all the days of our lives.

The Book of Psalms
About This Sermon

Why is Psalm 23 the text most often requested at a graveside? In The Lord Is My Shepherd, Dr. Toby B. Holt preaches Psalm 23, the psalm of David the shepherd-king, who knew sheep as wayward and obstinate and yet dared to call God "my shepherd." The psalm reminds us of two things: that God cares, and that He is at our side — He does not shout "I love you" through a megaphone from far away, but is Immanuel, with us in the valley. As David says, "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for You are with me" (Psalm 23:4). From a Reformed and Westminster perspective, this psalm unveils Christ the Good Shepherd, who effectually calls, leads, and preserves His own sheep, and the gracious Host whose provision overflows.

Sermon Chapters
  1. Read ↓
  2. Read ↓
  3. Read ↓
  4. Read ↓
  5. Read ↓
  6. Read ↓
  7. Read ↓
  8. Read ↓
  9. Read ↓
  10. Read ↓
  11. Read ↓
  12. Read ↓
  13. Read ↓
  14. Read ↓
  15. Read ↓
  16. Read ↓
  17. Read ↓

Select a chapter to play the audio from that moment, or “Read” to jump to that part of the transcript below.

Questions This Sermon Answers

It means the God of heaven personally provides for and protects His people as a shepherd does his sheep. David, whose own occupation as a youth was shepherding, wrote out of a wellspring of experience: he knew sheep are wayward, prone to wander, and among the dullest and most obstinate creatures on earth. To call God "my shepherd" is to confess both that God is the One who provides and protects, and that I am a sheep — unruly and prone to stupidity. As Psalm 23:1 declares, "The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want."

Dr. Holt notes that when he conducts a funeral and asks the family for a requested text, time and time again the number-one selection is Psalm 23. It comforts hurting people because it says two things at once: that God cares, and that He is at our side. The psalm does not hide that this world is hard — spiritually speaking, this is the valley of the shadow of death — yet it promises that even there we can fear no evil, because we are not alone, for God is with us.

For the believer, the Shepherd of Psalm 23 is the LORD Himself, revealed fully in Jesus Christ. In John 10 Jesus told the Pharisees, "My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me; I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; neither shall anyone snatch them out of My hand." The Westminster Confession (10) teaches that Christ effectually calls His own out of sin and death; the same Shepherd who leads also keeps, so that none of His sheep is finally lost.

David makes a bold relational claim — not a shepherd in the abstract, but my shepherd. A sheep benefits from a shepherd's care only where there is a relationship. Dr. Holt recalls preaching in Western Ireland, where sheep roamed everywhere without fences; up close, each sheep was marked with a stripe of spray paint so the owner could tell whose was whose, and when old farmer Pete's truck rumbled by, the sheep that knew his voice bolted toward it. The real question is whether you are one of His sheep who hears His voice and runs to Him.

The psalm divides into two allegories. In verses 1-4 God is the Shepherd who leads, restores, and walks with His sheep through the valley; in verses 5-6 He is the gracious Host who spreads a table, anoints the head with oil, and fills the cup to overflowing. Together they show a God who not only guides His people through danger but lavishes abundant grace upon them. The Westminster Confession (7) frames this as God's covenant condescension, by which He freely binds Himself to bless His people.

Because the focal point of the psalm is the Shepherd, not the sheep. Dr. Holt urges underlining the word "He": He makes me lie down, He leads me, He restores my soul — and all "for His name's sake." The word "makes" is telling, for lying down in green pastures is primarily of God's volition, not ours; left to ourselves we would lie down within reach of every wolf for a country mile. As Psalm 23:3 says, "He restores my soul; He leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake."

No. Dr. Holt warns that God's provision is not protective bubble wrap, against the health-and-wealth notion that the moment you turn to the Shepherd everything will go well. These verses do not insulate the sheep from wolves; they promise that when you face them, you do not face them alone. The spiritual terrain remains deadly — the valley is as dangerous when you enter church as when you leave — but the difference is that you no longer walk it by yourself, for the Lord is with you.

It pictures the deadly terrain of the Christian life in a fallen world. Dr. Holt observes that in military conquest the least ideal terrain is a valley: your vision is hemmed in by rising ground, an unseen enemy can ambush you, and if you flee you are bottlenecked and cut off from support. Spiritually we live in such a valley, where the devil prowls like a lion. Yet David, hounded by enemies, still said, "I will fear no evil; for You are with me" (Psalm 23:4).

Dr. Holt calls it the error of the "commando sheep" or "ninja sheep" — the believer who reasons, "I am stronger than the weak and new; I can have those conversations and watch those shows and it won't affect me." He calls this unbiblical, deadly, and foolish; if we could see the claw marks the world has already laid on our backs and the ungodly ideas that have infiltrated our worldview, we would not play with fire. David's emphasis is to turn to God and trust not our own strength but His.

The image shifts from Shepherd to Host. In that culture a host anointed his guest's head with oil and filled the cup to overflowing to say, "while you are in my house, you will lack nothing." It echoes the prodigal's father, who ran across the field and killed the fatted calf for a returning son, and Christ who gave His own lifeblood at Calvary. Dr. Holt stresses there is absolute unity between God's power to love His child and His willingness to do so — He does not have the power to love and give only half of that love.

Reformed theology teaches that the sheep's security rests on the Shepherd's faithfulness, not their own. John Murray, in Redemption Accomplished and Applied, argues that perseverance is fundamentally God's preservation of His people, so that those effectually called are kept by His power. This mirrors Psalm 23: because the Lord is the Shepherd, the believer lacks nothing and is pursued by goodness and mercy. Jesus grounds the same confidence in John 10:28, declaring of His sheep, "They shall never perish."

Key Theological Points

1. Christ the Good Shepherd and the Security of His Sheep

The believer's confidence rests not in the strength of the sheep but in the faithfulness of the Shepherd. Jesus said, "My sheep hear My voice... and they shall never perish; neither shall anyone snatch them out of My hand" (John 10:27-28). The Westminster Confession (17.1) teaches that those whom God has accepted in Christ can neither totally nor finally fall away, but shall persevere to the end. The Lord who leads His sheep also keeps them.

2. God's Sovereign, Gracious Leading For His Name's Sake

The psalm's emphasis falls on the Shepherd who acts: "He makes me to lie down in green pastures... He leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake" (Psalm 23:2-3). Left to ourselves we would never seek the green pastures or the right paths. The Westminster Confession (5.1) teaches that God upholds, directs, and governs all His creatures by His most wise and holy providence, leading His people for the glory of His own name.

3. The Overflowing Provision of the Divine Host

The Host anoints the head with oil and fills the cup to overflowing, declaring that His guest will lack nothing (Psalm 23:5). There is perfect unity between God's power to love and His willingness to love; He who gave His own Son's lifeblood withholds no good thing from His children. The Westminster Confession (7.3) sets this within the covenant of grace, in which God freely offers life and salvation, and superabundantly supplies all His people's need.

The Scripture Text: Psalm 23:1-3 (NKJV)

"The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul; He leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake."

Continue studying: explore the full Book of Psalms sermon series, or browse the complete Reformed Sermon Archive.

About Our Speaker
Dr. Toby B. Holt

About The Speaker: Dr. Toby Holt serves as the third President of New Geneva Theological Seminary (Colorado Springs, CO), founded 1993. An expository preacher with over 1.9 million sermon downloads on SermonAudio.com, Dr. Holt brings over 17 years of pastoral experience to his verse-by-verse Bible teaching. New Geneva offers fully online Reformed theological education — M.Div., Th.M., D.Min., and other degrees.

Sermon Transcript

Summary. In this sermon on Psalm 23, Dr. Toby Holt of New Geneva Theological Seminary teaches that the God of the Bible not only cares for His people but is present with them, upholding them in the midst of a fallen world. From a Reformed perspective, Holt shows how David's confession 'The Lord is my shepherd' makes a bold relational claim: God is the Shepherd who guards, provides, and leads, while we are wayward sheep prone to wander who cannot survive on our own strength. Walking through the valley of the shadow of death, believers can fear no evil not because the world is safe, but because the Shepherd who defeated the enemies of His flock is with them and will bring them at last to dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Speaker: Dr. Toby B. Holt · Text: Psalm 23 · Full transcript (lightly edited for readability), ~27 min. Click any timestamp to jump to that point.

God Cares and God Is at Our Side

You know, whenever I conduct a funeral or a memorial service, I typically ask folks, I say, is there any text that you'd like me to read? Any particular text you'd like to have incorporated into the service? With that said, the number one selection, time and time again, it's this text that we're looking at in Psalm 23.

Psalm 23 reminds us two important things. Number one, it reminds us that God cares, and number two, it reminds us that He's at our side. See, it's one thing if God just cared for you, but He was so far removed from you that He couldn't do anything about it. It'd be one thing if God shouted, I love you, through a megaphone so you could barely hear it or you could barely see it in the pages of scripture.

It'd be one thing if God's care was remote, but it's not. Not only does God care for us, not only does He love us, but He's with us, upholding us in the midst of our hurts.

Continue reading the full transcript 30-minute read · 17 sections · every section links back to the audio

The Valley of the Shadow of Death: A Fallen World

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.”

— Psalm 23:4 (NKJV)

Psalm 23 doesn't try to hide the reality that this world is hard. Outside these doors, inside our hearts, there's all manner of things that can absolutely bring us to our knees. It doesn't matter how strong we are. There are things that exist in this world, among which is death, that can cause us to crumble.

If it hasn't happened to you in times past, beware. It can happen in a time yet ahead. There's all manner of things outside these doors that can and should remind us that although today is pretty and beautiful and sunny and the like. In a spiritual sense, this is the valley.

This is the valley, the shadow of death. Scripture doesn't hide that fact, whether it's Psalm 23 or elsewhere. A couple weeks ago, we considered that this world is really not all that it's cracked up to be. There's a reason why God is going to wrap it up like a scroll at the end of time.

This is a fallen earth. And even on the best of days, we have hardship. Although Scripture is honest with us about this, Scripture also reminds us that even though we live out our days in the valley, that we can fear no evil. God tells you, you live out your days in the valley of the shadow of death.

But at the same time, and in the same breath, says that while you're living out your days in the valley of the shadow of death, you can and should fear no evil. How can that be? The reason you can fear no evil while living out your days of the valley of the shadow of death is this, because you're not alone, because God is with you.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, because Thou art with me.

Encouragement to Take the Next Step

Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. This morning, do you need to be comforted? This morning, do you need to be comforted? When you think about your life, the obstacles that have risen up against you in times past, or maybe on the horizon, when you think of the suffering that you've gone through, or maybe going through right now, do you need encouragement for today and tomorrow?

Encouragement to take another step. Psalm 23 was written and given to provide us just that. Encouragement for the next step. If you have to live out your days in the valley, if you have to walk through it, if you have to keep your head down and plow forward, and if you've got another step to take today and tomorrow, the encouragement in this text is to take that step knowing that God is with you as you do so.

All right, let's read about this shepherd now.

Two Allegories: The Shepherd and the Host

“The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.”

— Psalm 23:1 (NKJV)

Let's look at verse 1 of the text, and we'll just work our way through the balance. Verse 1, the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. All right, over the course of its six verse totality, Psalm 23, it's split roughly down the middle into two different allegories. Now, in the first four verses, we see God depicted as a shepherd.

We see Him as one who guards and provides for His flock, one who leads them down safe paths and down the road that they're called to travel. And then the last two verses, the final two, God is depicted then as a benevolent host. He's first depicted as a shepherd, then He's depicted as a benevolent host who protects us and provides for us.

David the Shepherd: We Are the Sheep

With that said, as we look at verse one, let's talk about the implication of this statement that the Lord is my shepherd. Who wrote Psalm 23? David. David wrote Psalm 23.

Now, what was David's occupation when he was younger? Shepherd. David, when he says, the Lord is my shepherd, he's not just talking out of his inexperience. When he says, the Lord is my shepherd, he's talking out of a wellspring of experience because he knew what shepherds do and he knew who shepherds are.

Furthermore, he knew about sheep. And he knew that sheep are wayward and they're prone to wander. They're kind of stupid if you've ever dealt with sheep. He had all sorts of experiences with sheep.

And he knew that sheep are some of the dullest, most obstinate creatures on this earth. So David had these experiences. He had been entrusted when he was younger with the welfare and the nurturing and the provision and the safety of a flock of sheep. And it's in that context that he says that the Lord is my shepherd.

That statement has two implications. The first one is to put God in the role of the shepherd, the one who provides and nurtures and makes those safe who are in His care. That's one implication. The second implication is that David, if he's saying God is my shepherd, he's saying that I am a sheep.

That's the other implication of this. He's saying I am a sheep. And if he's saying that I'm a sheep, he's saying that I am unruly and prone to wander or prone to make mistakes, prone to stupidity, prone to doing things I shouldn't do.

The Danger Within: The Sinful Heart

But I have a shepherd. David knew that there's things outside his doors, our doors, that he needed protection from. He knew that he needed guidance. He needed to be led.

He needed to be watered. He needed to be cared for. But his protection wasn't only from external dangers. The biggest threats aimed at you aren't actually aimed from an external source.

David knew that the dangers that were manifest in his own heart were greater still. Remember Bathsheba? David knew that even as a sheep, and especially as a sheep, he was prone to wander. He was prone to mess up.

He was prone to do things that he ought not, as we are. And so David — even though this is no slouch of a guy. You know, if you're talking about, like, the greatest man who ever walked the face of the earth, David's got to be in your top five, top 10. David's no slouch.

David is no slouch.

A Bold Relational Claim: The Lord Is MY Shepherd

And yet he says, the Lord is my shepherd. He says, I'm a sheep. But I want you to notice when he says, the Lord is my shepherd. If you circle the word my, you would be wise to do so because he doesn't just call the Lord a shepherd in the abstract sense, but rather he makes a bold relational claim.

He says, the Lord is my shepherd. Not just a shepherd of someone else or some other people. No, he says, the Lord, the Lord is my shepherd. You know, in order for a sheep to benefit from the graces and the care of a shepherd, there has to first be a relationship between the two.

In order for a sheep that's out wandering the hillsides to benefit from the care of a shepherd, There has to be a relationship between both.

Marked and Known: The Sheep Hear His Voice

On a couple of different occasions, I've had the opportunity to preach and teach in Ireland. And, you know, you ever see postcards of Ireland and there's all these kind of stones and fields and there's sheep jumping over them and they're like, well, that's all real. That's definitely, that's like Western Ireland, pretty much all that.

But, but it was different than what I expected. In our sense, you look at a farm and you might see sheep or cows or something, but there's always fences and it's pretty clear whose property is whose. And, like, that's not the way it works in Western Ireland. There wasn't a fence that I could see.

There was just sheep that seemed to be roaming everywhere. And one of my questions of the missionary that I was with — one of my questions is, well, how did they know whose sheep or whose? And I said this from a distance as I saw these. And he says, wait till you get closer, wait till you get closer, and you'll, uh, you'll figure that out.

Well, as we got closer, as we got closer to these sheep just all over the place, I noticed something. And it was — it was weird. I'd never seen this. This doesn't make the postcards.

But what was weird was that the various owners or shepherds of these sheep, they had marked each one — not through a brand, but through a spray paint. You go up and you see the sheep in Ireland, and a lot of them will have just a stripe of pink or purple or green or yellow or something on their side or on their back.

Maybe an X marks the spot. They're really kind of ugly — it makes the sheep look kind of mottled — but I'll tell you this much: you know whose sheep is whose. The farmer who puts a green X on the sheep, that's his sheep. You don't mess with his sheep.

And they might go from here to there and so forth, but the sheep, who they belong to, is not in doubt. Now, with that said, as odd as that is, something else I noticed about the sheep is that there was a vehicle that had a particular, I don't know, old F-150 or something, but it had a rumble to it.

And as the vehicle — I saw drive through down one of the neighboring streets — I noticed that some of the sheep bolted, went to this vehicle. Not all of them, but some of them did. And I thought, well, that was weird, too. And he says, well, they just know that's old Pete.

You know, that's the old farmer Pete, and he's out feeding the sheep. And I said, well, how in the world do the sheep know? And he says, well, they know which car it is. They know which truck.

Now, man alive, my mind is just connecting all these preaching points that are coming out of this. This picture of the sheep knowing the voice or knowing the sound or what have you of the shepherd and then running to him when he came in and being marked in such a way — this is a wonderful picture, not only of Psalm 23, but of Christ's text when He talks about the sheep.

Christ the Good Shepherd: Are You One of His Sheep?

In John 10, Jesus is talking to the Pharisees, and He said this. He says, you don't believe because you're not of My sheep. My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me. And I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish, neither shall anyone snatch them out of My hand.

Jesus Christ, whether it's way back in Psalm 23, whether it's way forward in John 10, or on into Revelation, Jesus Christ is repeatedly described as a shepherd. With that said, the real question for you this morning, the real question for you is, are you one of His sheep? Because not all are. And Jesus said that straightforwardly.

He says, you do not believe because you are not of My sheep. My sheep hear My voice. I know them and they follow Me. This suggests that some are His and some are not.

Can you make the bold relational claim that David made? Can you say that the Lord is my shepherd? I mean, it's all the voices. I mean, it's all those who would attempt to lead me or direct me or manipulate me to whatever ends.

The singular voice that I will respond to. The singular voice that drives me comes from the Lord who is my shepherd. I hear His voice. I run to Him.

This is David's invitation. David's view of his own faith.

He Makes Me Lie Down: The Shepherd as the Focus

“He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul; He leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake.”

— Psalm 23:2-3 (NKJV)

Let's look at verses 2 and 3 as he builds on it. Verse 2. He makes me to lie down in green pastures. That sounds nice.

He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. Leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake. You know, in order for us to appreciate Psalm 23, We have to realize who the focal point of this whole psalm is.

Psalm 23, in the verses we just read, repeatedly, repeatedly, the word that comes up is the word he. He makes me. He leads me. He restores me.

He leads. Why does He do these things? Verse 2-3 says, for His own name's sake. The sheep are not the focus of Psalm 23.

The shepherd is. Remember that at funerals. Remember that when you encounter the text. Remember that whenever you hear this text read.

On the one hand, it has direct application to the hearts of we sheep who are herding. But the prime focus of Psalm 23 is not the sheep, it's the shepherd. Now, right off the bat, we read that this shepherd, this one, makes us to lie down in green pastures. Now, the word makes, the English translation of this, the word makes, it's a telling word choice.

You see, the language here suggests that this action of lying down by green pastures is not of our own volition, but it's primarily of God's. The implication is that left to our own devices, we wouldn't necessarily seek out green pastures. We wouldn't necessarily travel in the paths of righteousness. Left alone, what does sheep do if there's no shepherd, no voice, no leading?

Well, they just wander forever. They wander to places that are deadly to them. If we were truly left alone in this world, if we were left alone, we would dive headfirst in all manner of sins and snares. We would regularly drink from water that does not quench.

We would regularly lay down like every naive and stupid sheep does. I mean, within the grasp of every wolf for a country mile. But fortunately, God's not an absentee shepherd. Remember we said earlier, it's not like God just made us and formed us and yells at us occasionally through a bullhorn from a billion miles away.

That's not Emmanuel God with us. Rather, our shepherd, He's not an absentee shepherd, but He's a close one. Instead of being an absentee shepherd, our God takes us by the hand. He leads us.

Sometimes He sets us down in green pastures and still waters. And in that moment, we might not understand how peaceful things are for us. In that moment, we might be kind of bored. We might say, well, God, don't You have something better for me?

In those moments, He may be training us, nurturing us, preparing us for the storm to come. But God does this when we oftentimes wouldn't do it for ourselves. And a repeat emphasis of verse 2 and 3 is that He does this not because of us, but often in spite of us, in spite of our tendency to run the other way.

Not Bubble Wrap: Provision Is Not Prosperity

Now let me add that God's provision should not be confused with protective bubble wrap. There are some, even some in the greater evangelical world, that in essence say that the minute you turn to God, the minute you turn to this shepherd, that there's health and wealth and prosperity, and things will always go well for you.

That is not the teaching of Scripture. These verses don't suggest that just because you have a shepherd that you're insulated from the fact that there are wolves out there. What it suggests is that when you face them, you don't face them alone.

The Valley in Enemy Territory: Fear No Evil

Let's see in verse 4 how this is built on. Verse 4. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I'll fear no evil, for You are with me. Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

You have to see the distinction here. The distinction is this. You are sheep. You have a shepherd, and that is good.

And there are seasons in your life — there'll be the green pastures and still waters and all of that — but the reality of the spiritual landscape around you is still deadly. You have a sheep — but as long as you're on this side of the mortal coil, as long as you live out your days here, you have a shepherd who will watch out over you.

But the landscape itself remains the same. You see that? That's an important distinction to make. The spiritual terrain outside these doors was as deadly when you came into church as it will be when you go out of church.

The landscape, the valley, the shadow of death is there. The distinction, the hope, the promise that we have is that when we face it, when we go out these doors, we're not facing it alone, that the shepherd is with us. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death — it will happen, it does happen, it'll happen again — I will fear no evil.

And I won't fear evil because You are with me. Your rod and Your staff, which is the shepherd's tools to beat off the wolves and to draw the sheep close — they are in Your hand, O God, and that comforts me. You know, in military conquests, one of the least ideal forms of topography that you can ever enter is a valley.

A valley. Now, why is that? Well, when you enter a valley, your vision is usually limited by the terrain that has risen up on each side, and so you can be more readily ambushed in a valley by an enemy that is just out of sight. And should you turn to flee — should you get ambushed when you're inside a valley and should you turn to run from it — what you may find is that you're bottlenecked — again, the terrain hems you in, it closes you off, and support has trouble even getting to you.

Even the most trained soldier, even the Rambo of soldiers, is going to be apprehensive about going into a valley — especially, and not just any valley, mind you, but especially a valley that exists in enemy territory, where you already know that there's an enemy looking out to get you. With that said, where do you think we live?

Well, the short answer is the valley. This is a spiritual valley. I know in reality we're on sea level here, but this, spiritually speaking, is a valley. There are enemies you can't see around the next bend.

There are things behind you that are chasing you. This is real. This is true. The devil's like a prowling lion seeking those who he might devour.

There are evils and dangers around every bend. Some of them have already left scars on our backs to testify to their reality. And these evils are not benign. They are malignant to the extreme.

And they have you and I in our crosshairs. David knew that. Even if you and I just kind of shrug our shoulders at that, David knew the reality of that. He was a man who was hounded and persecuted and had enemies just again on every corner.

His travels had taken him through valleys that had claimed other men's hope and had claimed other men's lives. And yet, even though he knew that geography would not change just because he penned Psalm 23, he knew that geography would not change when he went to bed and woke up in the next morning, though he knew that was true, though he knew the geography would not change, and that sin and war and betrayal and temptation, all that would still be there, even though he was a man beset on all sides.

He says, I fear no evil. I fear no evil. Now, how is that possible? Again, David's enemies outnumbered ours.

You could spend the rest of your life trying to make enemies, and you still won't get to the mountain that David had. So, how could he say, I fear no evil, given the amount of evil that was looking for him? Well, again, he says, You're with me, God, You're with me. And that means something to me.

Praying, to David, is not like praying is sometimes to us. Sometimes for us, prayers are these wispy trial balloons. We kind of float up and we hope that they reach the ears of God and that maybe He'll respond. Maybe He'll hear, maybe He'll do something.

For some of us, that's what prayer life is. For David, it was much more than that. He says, I'm a sheep. I cry out.

My shepherd hears and He responds. And he had seen it happen time, time again. You know, if a sheep goes out into the wilderness and meets a wolf, it's game over for the sheep, unless, unless he is tucked behind the standing and the stature of his mighty and impressive shepherd who can defend and protect him.

The Folly of the Ninja Sheep: Trusting Our Own Strength

Now, let me stop here for a second. You and I might be able to look at verse 23 and say, all right, I understand that we're sheep-like, sheep-ish. Most of us get that. It comes with the territory, if you read enough scripture — this understanding that we're sheep-like.

However, we do something kind of odd. I've said this before. I've used this statement before and I'll use it again because it comes to mind most readily when I think about sheep. You and I, we sort of get that we're sheep.

We see it in scripture and so we nod our head and we say, okay, I'm sheep. But guess what sort of decisions we make, say, this week? Guess what sort of decisions that we make? We know that we're sheep.

We know that there's some sort of spiritual lion out there and there's enemies and the like. We know that's true. And we know that we're sheep as we wander out into that wilderness. But we wander out thinking we're far stronger than we are.

Sometimes we go into the heart of the most dangerous circumstances and settings and we're not necessarily trusting in the shepherd. We are trusting — we were trusting this picture that although we're sheep, we're some sort of special sheep. And we can endure something our lesser brothers and sisters can't. We think that we're some sort of commando sheep — is a phrase I've used.

Ninja sheep. Some of us think that when it comes to evils out there and the music and television and the institutions around us, that, well, I'm strong enough in my faith. I'm stronger than those who are somewhat weak and new in the faith. And I can endure all this.

We march down places, you know, Bourbon Street or the spiritual equivalent of that in our everyday choices, thinking that somehow we can enter into those scenarios or have those conversations or watch those shows and that it has no effect on us. Because why? We're ninja sheep. We're somehow more powerful and stronger than our peers.

That's wrong. It's unbiblical and it's deadly and it's stupid. If you and I — if we could only see, if you could only see in a spiritual sense the claw marks that this world has already laid upon your back. If you could only see the way in what your world view — maybe it was years ago, maybe it's today — but the way in which your world view has been manipulated and infiltrated with the most ungodly heathen ideas, beliefs, opinions, and the like.

The world has left claw marks on our back, and we don't recognize it. We think we're stronger than we are. So we play with fire. Well, David's emphasis is don't.

He says, yea, I walked through the valley of the shadow of death, but I feared no evil because You were with me. I turned to my God.

God the Benevolent Host: A Table and an Overflowing Cup

“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You anoint my head with oil; my cup runs over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.”

— Psalm 23:5-6 (NKJV)

I don't trust in my own strength. I trust in His. All right, let's look at verses 5 and 6. These verses wrap up the psalm.

In these verses, there's a transition from the image of God as a shepherd to that of a host or a benefactor. Let me explain what we mean. Let's read verses 5 and 6. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.

You anoint my head with oil. My cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. You know, in the centuries preceding the time of Christ, it was customary for those who were visitors in someone else's home in the ancient days to have their head and their feet anointed in oil.

Some of that's because people had traveled long distances and kind of smelly, so you would anoint people's heads and the feet with oil or perfume. And this gesture — when you did this for someone who was visiting you, someone who came into your house — this gesture, along with — if someone gave you their wine glass as a visitor, you fill it to the brim, almost to overflowing — these sort of gestures were intended to convey to your guest that when you're in my house, you lack nothing.

As long as I am the one responsible for your care when you are in my house, you will lack nothing. Break the most expensive bottle of oil, perfume, pour it on your feet of all things. Fill your cup to overflowing, and that's just the start of it. So verse 5, David is contrasting God's provision for us with these customs because the people would have understood that.

Now if you think back to the night of the Last Supper, you can see Jesus doing this very thing in a sense, when He washed the feet of His disciples. Jesus, this great host, this great benefactor, He washes the feet of His own. And then in their presence, He broke bread and He poured out the wine, suggesting that He was going to offer from His own abundance, His own merit, that which would overflow the spiritual needs of those that were gathered there.

The Overflowing Provision of God: The Father Who Gave His Son

If you think about the banquet to the prodigal son — remember, the son goes off, he does crazy stuff, he comes back to the father. What does the father do? Does the father just kind of go, well, all right, come on? Does the father just kind of indifferent to the return of the son?

Not at all. The father just rushes across the field. Father gives him his robe, he gives him his signet ring, he kills the fatted calf, and he says, we're going to have a banquet. These are pictures of a God whose love and provision, even for wandering lost sheep when they come back to Him, just overflows.

You have no idea what God is willing to give for you, what provision God is willing to make for you and for your life and for your needs and your concerns and your hurts and the like. Good gravy. He sent His own son to die on the cross. What do you think He'd withhold from you?

What good, now or eternity, do you think God is going to say, meh, not for you? If He was willing to give up that which was the most precious to Himself, His own son's lifeblood on Calvary. For some of us, there are people we've loved who've let us down. For some of us, we have an experience that there are those in our life who have withheld from us that which we've needed, who were stingy, maybe with resources, maybe with their love and attention in our times of need.

In our own experiences, there are folks who have let us down in the past. God never will. David looks at this picture, this abundance. He says, You set up a table in the presence of my enemies.

You anoint my head with oil. He says, there's nothing You don't do. He says, You make every provision for me, no matter how terrible my situation is. You are with me.

You preserve me, and You protect me, and ultimately, You're going to take me out of this into something far better. He says, this is a God I can serve. He says, this is a God I can love, and this is a God I can trust in when things go badly tomorrow. The fact that something goes badly in your life tomorrow or next week does not mean that God doesn't love you.

Some of us, we think that God's love hinges on how good we're doing or what our circumstances are like and so forth. The love of God for you will not change based on that — what you do or don't do.

The Struggle to Trust a God Who Will Not Let Us Down

With that said, we are called to trust, but it doesn't come easy. Even trusting God for some of us is hard. And that's because there are others who have let us down. And so we have difficulty even trusting God.

Sometimes people acknowledge God's existence and His power and all the stuff we sing about, but they say that that love and that power and that grace and that mercy applies to someone other than me. Because as sheep go, I've done a lot of things that God knows and He can't possibly forgive me for.

If that's you this morning, you have to understand there's absolute unity between God's power to help you and His willingness to do so. God doesn't have the power to love His child and only give them half of that love. There's absolute unity between God's power and His willingness to pour out that power and that grace in order to assist us.

Marching Down the Valley: Goodness and Mercy All My Days

Now, David got this. All this he got, and it meant the world to him. The things we've talked about this morning — this idea that God really does care and He really is there and He really does provide and that's not going to stop tomorrow — none of that's new or ground shaking.

If it is, you haven't been in church long enough. None of that's new or ground shaking. The problem is, again, that some of us have trouble just really buying it. We understand it intellectually or theologically, but then when tomorrow comes and a danger comes up on a radar — some hurt or some diagnosis — we really don't end up trusting them as much as we might think we would, theologically, intellectually.

David got this, and so he consistently marched right down the valley, holding his head up high, knowing that God was with him. For David, tomorrow was never in doubt, and that's why he could close this psalm by confidently declaring the same words that we'll close the sermon with, and the same words I hope that you hold dear.

David closes the psalm saying, Surely, goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life. Not just one, not just some. Not just when I'm being nice or good or God especially loves me. He says, surely, truly, take it to the bank.

Goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life. And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. That is an encouraging thought for David. It's an encouraging thought for us.

Let's pray.

Apply to New Geneva