records no special events, and needs no other key than that which every
Christian may find in his own bosom. It is David’s_ Heavenly Pastoral;
_a surpassing ode, which none of the daughters of music can excel. The
clarion of war here gives place to the pipe of peace, and he who so
lately bewailed the woes of the Shepherd tunefully rehearses the joys of
the flock. Sitting under a spreading tree, with his flock around him,
like Bunyan’s shepherd-boy in the Valley of Humiliation, we picture
David singing this unrivalled pastoral with a heart as full of gladness
as it could hold; or, if the Psalm be the product of his after years, we
are sure that his soul returned in contemplation to the lonely
water-brooks which rippled among the pastures of the wilderness, where
in early days he had been wont to dwell. This is the pearl of Psalms
whose soft and pure radiance delights every eye; a pearl of which
Helicon need not be ashamed, though Jordan claims it. Of this delightful
song it may be affirmed that its piety and its poetry are equal, its
sweetness and its spirituality are unsurpassed._
_The position of this Psalm is worthy of notice. It follows the
twenty-second, which is peculiarly the Psalm of the Cross. There are no
green pastures, no still waters on the other side of the twenty-second
Psalm. It is only after we have read_, “My God, my God, why hast thou
forsaken me!” _that we come to_ “The Lord is my Shepherd.” _We must by
experience know the value of the blood-shedding, and see the sword
awakened against the Shepherd, before we shall be able truly to know the
sweetness of the good Shepherd’s care._
_It has been said that what the nightingale is among birds, that is this
divine ode among the Psalms, for it has sung sweetly in the ear of many
a mourner in his night of weeping, and has bidden him hope for a morning
of joy. I will venture to compare it also to the lark, which sings as it
mounts, and mounts as it sings, until it is out of sight, and even then
is not out of hearing. Note the last words of the Psalm_—“I will dwell
in the house of the Lord for ever;” _these are celestial notes, more
fitted for the eternal mansions than for these dwelling places below the
clouds. Oh that we may enter into the spirit of the Psalm as we read it,
and then we shall experience the days of heaven upon the earth!_
EXPOSITION.
The LORD _is_ my shepherd; I shall not want.
2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside
the still waters.
3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness
for his name’s sake.
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.
5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies:
thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
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.
1. “_The Lord is my shepherd._” What condescension is this, that the
Infinite Lord assumes towards his people the office and character of a
Shepherd! It should be the subject of grateful admiration that the great
God allows himself to be compared to anything which will set forth his
great love and care for his own people. David had himself been a keeper
of sheep, and understood both the needs of the sheep and the many cares
of a shepherd. He compares himself to a creature weak, defenceless, and
foolish, and he takes God to be his Provider, Preserver, Director, and,
indeed, his everything. No man has a right to consider himself the
Lord’s sheep unless his nature has been renewed, for the scriptural
description of unconverted men does not picture them as sheep, but as
wolves or goats. A sheep is an object of property, not a wild animal;
its owner sets great store by it, and frequently it is bought with a
great price. It is well to know, as certainly as David did, that we
belong to the Lord. There is a noble tone of confidence about this
sentence. There is no “if” nor “but,” nor even “I hope so;” but he says,
“The Lord _is_ my shepherd.” We must cultivate the spirit of assured
dependence upon our heavenly Father. The sweetest word of the whole is
that monosyllable, “_My_.” He does not say, “The Lord is the shepherd of
the world at large, and leadeth forth the multitude as his flock,” but
“The Lord is _my_ shepherd;” if he be a Shepherd to no one else, he is a
Shepherd to _me_; he cares for _me_, watches over _me_, and preserves
_me_. The words are in the present tense. Whatever be the believer’s
position, he is even now under the pastoral care of Jehovah.
The next words are a sort of inference from the first statement—they are
sententious and positive—“_I shall not want_.” I might want otherwise,
but when the Lord is my Shepherd he is able to supply my needs, and he
is certainly willing to do so, for his heart is full of love, and
therefore “_I shall not want_.” I shall not lack for _temporal things_.
Does he not feed the ravens, and cause the lilies to grow? How, then,
can he leave his children to starve? I shall not want _for spirituals_,
I know that his grace will be sufficient for me. Resting in him he will
say to me, “As thy day so shall thy strength be.” I may not possess all
that I wish for, but “I shall not _want_.” Others, far wealthier and
wiser than I, may want, but “_I shall not_.” “The young lions _do_ lack,
and suffer hunger: but they that seek the Lord shall not want any good
thing.” It is not only “I do not want,” but “_I shall not_ want.” Come
what may, if famine should devastate the land, or calamity destroy the
city, “_I shall not want_.” Old age with its feebleness shall not bring
me any lack, and even death with its gloom shall not find me destitute.
I have all things and abound; not because I have a good store of money
in the bank, not because I have skill and wit with which to win my
bread, but because “_The Lord is my Shepherd_.” The wicked always want,
but the righteous never; a sinner’s heart is far from satisfaction, but
a gracious spirit dwells in the palace of content.
2. “_He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside
the still waters._” The Christian life has two elements in it, the
contemplative and the active, and both of these are richly provided for.
First, the contemplative, “_He maketh me to lie down in green
pastures_.” What are these “_green pastures_” but the Scriptures of
truth—always fresh, always rich, and never exhausted? There is no fear
of biting the bare ground where the grass is long enough for the flock
to lie down in it. Sweet and full are the doctrines of the gospel; fit
food for souls, as tender grass is natural nutriment for sheep. When by
faith we are enabled to find rest in the promises, we are like the sheep
that lie down in the midst of the pasture; we find at the same moment
both provender and peace, rest and refreshment, serenity and
satisfaction. But observe: “He _maketh_ me to lie down.” It is the Lord
who graciously enables us to perceive the preciousness of his truth, and
to feed upon it. How grateful ought we to be for the power to
appropriate the promises! There are some distracted souls who would give
worlds if they could but do this. They know the blessedness of it, but
they cannot say that this blessedness is theirs. They know the “_green
pastures_,” but they are not made to “_lie down_” in them. Those
believers who have for years enjoyed a “full assurance of faith” should
greatly bless their gracious God.
The second part of a vigorous Christian’s life consists in gracious
activity. We not only think, but we act. We are not always lying down to
feed, but are journeying onward toward perfection; hence we read, “_he
leadeth me beside the still waters_.” What are these “_still waters_”
but the influences and graces of his blessed Spirit? His Spirit attends
us in various operations, like waters—in the plural—to cleanse, to
refresh, to fertilise, to cherish. They are “_still_ waters,” for the
Holy Ghost loves peace, and sounds no trumpet of ostentation in his
operations. He may flow into our soul, but not into our neighbour’s, and
therefore our neighbour may not perceive the divine presence; and though
the blessed Spirit may be pouring his floods into one heart, yet he that
sitteth next to the favoured one may know nothing of it.
“In sacred silence of the mind
My heaven, and there my God I find.”
Still waters run deep. Nothing more noisy than an empty drum. That
silence is golden indeed in which the Holy Spirit meets with the souls
of his saints. Not to raging waves of strife, but to peaceful streams of
holy love does the Spirit of God conduct the chosen sheep. He is a dove,
not an eagle; the dew, not the hurricane. Our Lord leads us beside these
“_still waters_;” we could not go there of ourselves, we need his
guidance, therefore is it said, “_he leadeth me_.” He does not drive us.
Moses drives us by the law, but Jesus leads us by his example, and the
gentle drawings of his love.
3. “_He restoreth my soul._” When the soul grows sorrowful he revives
it; when it is sinful he sanctifies it; when it is weak he strengthens
it. “_He_” does it. His ministers could not do it if he did not. His
Word would not avail by itself. “_He restoreth_ my soul.” Are any of us
low in grace? Do we feel that our spirituality is at its lowest ebb? He
who turns the ebb into the flood can soon restore our soul. Pray to him,
then, for the blessing—“Restore thou me, thou Shepherd of my soul!”
“_He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake._” The
Christian delights to be obedient, but it is the obedience of love, to
which he is constrained by the example of his Master. “_He leadeth_ me.”
The Christian is not obedient to some commandments and neglectful of
others; he does not pick and choose, but yields to all. Observe, that
the plural is used—“the _paths_ of righteousness.” Whatever God may give
us to do we would do it, led by his love. Some Christians overlook the
blessing of sanctification, and yet to a thoroughly renewed heart this
is one of the sweetest gifts of the covenant. If we could be saved from
wrath, and yet remain unregenerate, impenitent sinners, we should not be
saved as we desire, for we mainly and chiefly pant to be saved _from_
sin and led in the way of holiness. All this is done out of pure free
grace; “_for his name’s sake_.” It is to the honour of our great
Shepherd that we should be a holy people, walking in the narrow way of
righteousness. If we be so led and guided we must not fail to adore our
heavenly Shepherd’s care.
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._” This unspeakably delightful verse has been sung on many a
dying bed, and has helped to make the dark valley bright times out of
mind. Every word in it has a wealth of meaning. “Yea, though I _walk_,”
as if the believer did not quicken his pace when he came to die, but
still calmly _walked_ with God. To walk indicates the steady advance of
a soul which knows its road, knows its end, resolves to follow the path,
feels quite safe, and is therefore perfectly calm and composed. The
dying saint is not in a flurry, he does not run as though he were
alarmed, nor stand still as though he would go no further, he is not
confounded nor ashamed, and therefore keeps to his old pace. Observe
that it is not walking _in_ the valley, but _through_ the valley. We go
through the dark tunnel of death and emerge into the light of
immortality. We do not die, we do but sleep to wake in glory. Death is
not the house but the porch, not the goal but the passage to it. The
dying article is called a _valley_. The storm breaks on the mountain,
but the valley is the place of quietude, and thus full often the last
days of the Christian are the most peaceful in his whole career; the
mountain is bleak and bare, but the valley is rich with golden sheaves,
and many a saint has reaped more joy and knowledge when he came to die
than he ever knew while he lived. And, then, it is not “the valley of
death,” but “the valley _of the shadow_ of death,” for death in its
substance has been removed, and only the shadow of it remains. Some one
has said that when there is a shadow there must be light somewhere, and
so there is. Death stands by the side of the highway in which we have to
travel, and the light of heaven shining upon him throws a shadow across
our path; let us then rejoice that there is a light beyond. Nobody is
afraid of a shadow, for a shadow cannot stop a man’s pathway even for a
moment. The shadow of a dog cannot bite; the shadow of a sword cannot
kill; the shadow of death cannot destroy us. Let us not, therefore, be
afraid. “_I will fear no evil._” He does not say there shall not be any
evil; he had got beyond even that high assurance, and knew that Jesus
had put all evil away; but “I will _fear_ no evil;” as if even his
fears, those shadows of evil, were gone for ever. The worst evils of
life are those which do not exist except in our imagination. If we had
no troubles but real troubles, we should not have a tenth part of our
present sorrows. We feel a thousand deaths in fearing one, but the
Psalmist was cured of the disease of fearing. “I will fear _no evil_,”
not even the Evil One himself; I will not dread the last enemy, I will
look upon him as a conquered foe, an enemy to be destroyed, “_For thou
art with me_.” This is the joy of the Christian! “_Thou_ art with me.”
The little child out at sea in the storm is not frightened like all the
other passengers on board the vessel, it is asleep in its mother’s
bosom; it is enough for it that its mother is with it; and it should be
enough for the believer to know that Christ is with him. “_Thou_ art
with me; I have in having thee, all that I can crave: I have perfect
comfort and absolute security, for _thou_ art with me.” “_Thy rod and
thy staff_,” by which thou governest and rulest thy flock, the ensigns
of thy sovereignty and of thy gracious care—“_they comfort me_.” I will
believe that thou reignest still. The rod of Jesse shall still be over
me as the sovereign succour of my soul.
Many persons profess to receive much comfort from the hope that they
shall not die. Certainly there will be some who will be “alive and
remain” at the coming of the Lord, but is there so very much of
advantage in such an escape from death as to make it the object of
Christian desire? A wise man might prefer of the two to die, for those
who shall not die, but who “shall be caught up together with the Lord in
the air,” will be losers rather than gainers. They will lose that actual
fellowship with Christ in the tomb which dying saints will have, and we
are expressly told they shall have no preference beyond those who are
asleep. Let us be of Paul’s mind when he said that “To die is gain,” and
think of “departing to be with Christ, which is far better.” This
twenty-third Psalm is not worn out, and it is as sweet in a believer’s
ear now as it was in David’s time, let novelty-hunters say what they
will.
5. “_Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies._”
The good man has his enemies. He would not be like his Lord if he had
not. If we were without enemies we might fear that we were not the
friends of God, for the friendship of the world is enmity to God. Yet
see the quietude of the godly man in spite of, and in the sight of, his
enemies. How refreshing is his calm bravery! “_Thou preparest a table
before me._” When a soldier is in the presence of his enemies, if he
eats at all he snatches a hasty meal, and away he hastens to the fight.
But observe: “Thou _preparest_ a table,” just as a servant does when she
unfolds the damask cloth and displays the ornaments of the feast on an
ordinary peaceful occasion. Nothing is hurried, there is no confusion,
no disturbance, the enemy is at the door and yet God prepares a table,
and the Christian sits down and eats as if everything were in perfect
peace. Oh! the peace which Jehovah gives to his people, even in the
midst of the most trying circumstances!
“Let earth be all in arms abroad,
They dwell in perfect peace.”
“_Thou anointest my head with oil._” May we live in the daily enjoyment
of this blessing, receiving a fresh anointing for every day’s duties.
Every Christian is a priest, but he cannot execute the priestly office
without unction, and hence we must go day by day to God the Holy Ghost,
that we may have our heads anointed with oil. A priest without oil
misses the chief qualification for his office, and the Christian priest
lacks his chief fitness for service when he is devoid of new grace from
on high. “_My cup runneth over._” He had not only enough, a cup full,
but more than enough, a cup which overflowed. A poor man may say this as
well as those in higher circumstances. “What, all this, and Jesus Christ
too?” said a poor cottager as she broke a piece of bread and filled a
glass with cold water. Whereas a man may be ever so wealthy, but if he
be discontented his cup cannot run over; it is cracked and leaks.
Content is the philosopher’s stone which turns all it touches into gold;
happy is he who has found it. Content is more than a kingdom, it is
another word for happiness.
6. “_Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my
life._” This is a fact as indisputable as it is encouraging, and
therefore a heavenly _verily_, or “_surely_” is set as a seal upon it.
This sentence may be read, “_only_ goodness and mercy,” for there shall
be unmingled mercy in our history. These twin guardian angels will
always be with me at my back and my beck. Just as when great princes go
abroad they must not go unattended, so it is with the believer. Goodness
and mercy follow him always—“_all the days of his life_”—the black days
as well as the bright days, the days of fasting as well as the days of
feasting, the dreary days of winter as well as the bright days of
summer. Goodness supplies our needs, and mercy blots out our sins. “_And
I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever._” “A servant abideth not
in the house for ever, but the son abideth ever.” While I am here I will
be a child at home with my God; the whole world shall be his house to
me; and when I ascend into the upper chamber I shall not change my
company, nor even change the house; I shall only go to dwell in the
upper storey of the house of the Lord for ever.
May God grant us grace to dwell in the serene atmosphere of this most
blessed Psalm!
EXPLANATORY NOTES AND QUAINT SAYINGS.
_Whole Psalm._—David has left no sweeter Psalm than the short
twenty-third. It is but a moment’s opening of his soul; but, as when
one, walking the winter street, sees the door opened for some one to
enter, and the red light streams a moment forth, and the forms of gay
children are running to greet the comer, and genial music sounds, though
the door shuts and leaves the night black, yet it cannot shut back again
all that the eyes, the ear, the heart, and the imagination have seen—so
in this Psalm, though it is but a moment’s opening of the soul, are
emitted truths of peace and consolation that will never be absent from
the world. The twenty-third Psalm is the nightingale of the Psalms. It
is small, of a homely feather, singing shyly out of obscurity; but, oh!
it has filled the air of the whole world with melodious joy, greater
than the heart can conceive. Blessed be the day on which that Psalm was
born! What would you say of a pilgrim commissioned of God to travel up
and down the earth singing a strange melody, which, when one heard,
caused him to forget whatever sorrow he had? And so the singing angel
goes on his way through all lands, singing in the language of every
nation, driving away trouble by the pulses of the air which his tongue
moves with divine power. Behold just such an one! This pilgrim God has
sent to speak in every language on the globe. It has charmed more griefs
to rest than all the philosophy of the world. It has remanded to their
dungeon more felon thoughts, more black doubts, more thieving sorrows,
than there are sands on the sea-shore. It has comforted the noble host
of the poor. It has sung courage to the army of the disappointed. It has
poured balm and consolation into the heart of the sick, of captives in
dungeons, of widows in their pinching griefs, of orphans in their
loneliness. Dying soldiers have died easier as it was read to them;
ghastly hospitals have been illuminated; it has visited the prisoner,
and broken his chains, and, like Peter’s angel, led him forth in
imagination, and sung him back to his home again. It has made the dying
Christian slave freer than his master, and consoled those whom, dying,
he left behind mourning, not so much that he was gone, as because they
were left behind, and could not go too. Nor is its work done. It will go
singing to your children and my children, and to their children, through
all the generations of time; nor will it fold its wings till the last
pilgrim is safe, and time ended; and then it shall fly back to the bosom
of God, whence it issued, and sound on, mingled with all those sounds of
celestial joy which make heaven musical for ever.—_Henry Ward Beecher,
in “Life Thoughts.”_
_Whole Psalm._—This Psalm may well be called David’s _bucolicon_, or
pastoral, so daintily hath he struck upon the whole string, through the
whole hymn. _Est Psalmus honorabilis_, saith Aben-Ezra; it is a noble
Psalm, written and sung by David, not when he fled into the forest of
Hareth (1 Sam. xxii. 5), as some Hebrews will have it; but when as
having overcome all his enemies, and settled his kingdom, he enjoyed
great peace and quiet, and had one foot, as it were, upon the
battlements of heaven. The Jews at this day use for most part to repeat
this Psalm after they are sat down to meat.—_John Trapp._
_Whole Psalm._—Augustine is said to have beheld, in a dream, the one
hundred and nineteenth Psalm rising before him as a tree of life in the
midst of the paradise of God. This twenty-third may be compared to the
fairest flowers that grew around it. The former has even been likened to
the sun amidst the stars—surely this is like the richest of the
constellations, even the Pleiades themselves!—_John Stoughton, in “The
Songs of Christ’s Flock,” 1860._
_Whole Psalm._—Some pious souls are troubled because they cannot at all
times, or often, use, in its joyous import, the language of this Psalm.
Such should remember that David, though he lived long, never wrote but
one twenty-third Psalm. Some of his odes do indeed express as lively a
faith as this, and faith can walk in darkness. But where else do we find
a whole Psalm expressive of personal confidence, joy, and triumph, from
beginning to end? God’s people have their seasons of darkness and their
times of rejoicing.—_William S. Plumer._
_Verse 1.—“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”_ Let them say
that will, “My lands shall keep me, I shall have no want, my merchandise
shall be my help, I shall have no want;” let the soldier trust unto his
weapons, and the husbandman unto his labour; let the artificer say unto
his art, and the tradesman unto his trade, and the scholar unto his
books, “These shall maintain me, I shall not want.” Let _us_ say with
the church, as we both say and sing, “The Lord is my keeper, I shall not
want.” He that can truly say so, contemns the rest, and he that desires
more than God, cannot truly say, the Lord is his, the Lord is this
shepherd, governor and commander, and therefore I shall not want.—_John
Hull, B.D., in “Lectures on Lamentations,” 1617._
_Verse 1.—“The Lord is my shepherd; I want nothing:”_ thus it may be
equally well rendered, though in our version it is in the future
tense.—_J. R. Macduff, D.D., in “The Shepherd and his Flock,” 1866._
_Verse 1.—“The Lord is my shepherd.”_ We may learn in general from the
metaphor, that it is the property of a gracious heart to draw some
spiritual use or other from his former condition. David himself having
sometimes been a shepherd, as himself confesseth when he saith, “he took
David from the sheepfold from following the sheep,” etc., himself having
been a shepherd, he beholds the Lord the same to him. Whatsoever David
was to his flock—watchful over them, careful to defend them from the
lion and the bear, and whatsoever thing else might annoy them, careful
of their pasturage and watering, etc., the same and much more he beholds
the Lord to himself. So Paul: “I was a persecutor, and an oppressor: but
the Lord had mercy on me.” This we may see in good old Jacob: “With this
staff,” saith he, “I passed over Jordan;” and that now God had blessed
him and multiplied him exceedingly. The doctrine is plain; the reasons
are, first, because true grace makes no object amiss to gather some
gracious instruction: it skills not what the object be, so that the
heart be gracious; for that never wants matter to work upon. And,
secondly, it must needs be so, for such are guided by God’s Spirit, and
therefore are directed to a spiritual use of all things.—_Samuel Smith’s
“Chiefe Shepheard,” 1625._