By Caleb George
Jesus was intimately acquainted with the Psalms. He quoted the 22nd from the cross and appears to summarize the heart of the 24th in Matthew 5:8. It is possible He alludes to the 23rd in Luke 7:46; regardless, He certainly would have been familiar with the 23rd and may have sung it and meditated on it many times. As can be seen in Jesus’ life, Psalm 23 is far from a promise of a comfortable physical life; rather, it is the affirmation of faithful trust in God.
Yahweh is My Shepherd, though He leads Me silent to the shearers, though He leads Me, His Passover Lamb, to slaughter.
I shall not want, though I fast forty days and forty nights, though I sit weary and thirsty by a Samaritan well and have nothing with which to draw, though My disciples forget our bread, though My tongue cleave to my palate and I cry out, “I thirst.”
He makes me lie down in green pastures, though I lie cradled where animals have fed, though I have nowhere to rest My head, neither den nor nest, when even Galilee’s tempest cannot wake Me from My exhausted sleep within the rocking boat and yet My faithless disciples rouse Me, though I lie extended upon a cross as My mother watches the Shepherd lay Me in the dust of death.
He leads me beside quiet waters, though I toddle in sandy Egypt, though His Spirit compels me into the desert to be tempted of Satan, though I walk through raging waters, though My thirst for water is quenched with bitter gall, though My heart melts like hot wax within Me and I am poured out like water from My own pierced bosom.
He restores My soul even as My soul is dismayed in anticipation of the hour for which I have come, even as My soul is deeply grieved, to the point of death, as I cry out, “It is finished” and that soul is torn from its tabernacle.
He leads Me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake, even while they call Me a glutton and a drunk, a friend of tax-collectors and sinners, a vessel of the power of Beelzebub and they crucify me with thieves, deeming My actions 1 more worthy of death than those of a murderer.
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil for You are with me, even as I ask, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” and when it seems “far from My salvation are the words of My groaning,” when “I call by day, but You do not answer; and by night, but I have no rest.”
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort Me even as the multitude comes for Me with swords and clubs and as the soldiers mock My kingdom and wound My head with another staff.
You prepare a table before Me, even in the presence of My enemies – I share the bread and the sop with the one whose gain is My death; even My close friend in whom I trusted, who ate My bread, has lifted up his heel against Me. The Paschal feast is seasoned with bitter herbs and the shared bread must be broken.
You anoint with oil My head which is crowned with plaited thorns. Over that head I am thrice proclaimed King, but see that throne on which I am lifted up. My feet also are bathed in precious nard, a princely gift in honor of My finest hour, though the fragrance fades and you do not always have Me.
My cup overflows with the blessing of My Father as the cup of My blood is poured out for many. Abba! Father! All things are possible for You; remove this cup from Me; yet not what I will, but what You will.
Surely goodness and lovingkindness will pursue Me all the days of My life and I will dwell in the house of Yahweh forever. For You will not forsake My soul to Sheol; You will not give Your Holy One over to see corruption. You will make known to Me the path of life; in Your presence is fullness of joy; in Your right hand there are pleasures forever.
