the tents of Shem: my meaning is, that those who as yet never knew what
it was to be enfolded in the bosom of Jesus, who as yet were never lambs
nor ewes in Christ’s fold, consider the sweetness of this Shepherd, and
come in to him. Satan deals seemingly sweet, that he may draw you into
sin, but in the end he will be really bitter to you. Christ, indeed,
_is_ seemingly bitter to keep you from sin, hedging up your way with
thorns. But he will be really sweet if you come into his flock, even
notwithstanding your sins. Thou lookest into Christ’s fold, and thou
seest it hedged and fenced all about to keep you in from sin, and this
keeps thee from entering; but oh! let it not. Christ, indeed, is
unwilling that any of his should wander, and if they be unwilling too,
it’s well. And if they wander he’ll fetch them in, it may be with his
shepherd’s _dog_ (some affliction); but he’ll not be, as we say,
_dogged_ himself. No, he is and will be sweet. It may be, now Satan
smiles, and is pleasant to you while you sin; but know, he’ll be bitter
in the end. He that sings syren-like now, will devour lion-like at last.
He’ll torment you and vex you, and be burning and bitterness to you. O
come in therefore to Jesus Christ; let him be now the shepherd of thy
soul. And know then, he’ll be sweet in endeavouring to keep thee from
sin before thou commit it; and he’ll be sweet in delivering thee from
sin after thou hast committed it. O that this thought—that Jesus Christ
is sweet in his carriage unto all his members, unto all his flock,
especially the sinning ones, might persuade the hearts of some sinners
to come in unto his fold.—_John Durant, 1652._
_Verse 1 (first clause).—Feedeth me_, or, is _my feeder, my pastor_. The
word comprehendeth all duties of a good herd, as together feeding,
guiding, governing, and defending his flock.—_Henry Ainsworth._
_Verse 1.—“The Lord is my shepherd.”_ Now the reasons of this
resemblance I take to be these:—First, one property of a good shepherd
is, skill to know and judge aright of his sheep, and hence is it that it
is a usual thing to set mark upon sheep, to the end that if they go
astray (as of all creatures they are most subject to wander), the
shepherd may seek them up and bring them home again. The same thing is
affirmed of Christ, or rather indeed Christ affirmeth the same thing of
himself, “I know them, and they follow me.” John x. 27. Yea, doubtless,
he that hath numbered the stars, and calleth them all by their names,
yea, the very hairs of our head, taketh special notice of his own
children, “the sheep of his pasture,” that they may be provided for and
protected from all danger. Secondly, a good shepherd must have skill in
the pasturing of his sheep, and in bringing them into such fruitful
ground, as they may battle and thrive upon: a good shepherd will not
suffer his sheep to feed upon rotten soil, but in wholesome pastures....
Thirdly, a good shepherd, knowing the straying nature of his sheep, is
so much the more diligent to watch over them, and if at any time they go
astray, he brings them back again. This is the Lord’s merciful dealing
towards poor wandering souls.... Fourthly, a good shepherd must have
will to feed his sheep according to his skill: the Lord of all others is
most willing to provide for his sheep. How earnest is Christ with Peter,
to “feed his sheep,” urging him unto it three several times! Fifthly, a
good shepherd is provided to defend his flock.... The Lord is every way
provided for the safety and defence of his sheep, as David confesseth in
this Psalm (verse 4), “_Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me_.” And
again, “I took unto me two staves” (saith the Lord), “the one I called
Beauty, and the other I called Bands; and I fed the flock.” Zech. xi. 7.
Sixthly, it is the property of a good shepherd, that if any of his sheep
be weak and feeble, or his lambs young, for their safety and recovery he
will bear them in his arms. The Lord is not wanting to us herein. Isa.
xl. 11. And lastly, it is the property of a good shepherd to rejoice
when the strayed sheep is brought home. The Lord doth thus rejoice at
the conversion of a sinner. Luke xv. 7.—_Samuel Smith._
_Verse 1.—“The Lord is my shepherd.”_ I notice that some of the flock
keep near the shepherd, and follow whithersoever he goes without the
least hesitation, while others stray about on either side, or loiter far
behind; and he often turns round and scolds them in a sharp, stern cry,
or sends a stone after them. I saw him lame one just now. Not altogether
unlike the good Shepherd. Indeed, I never ride over these hills, clothed
with flocks, without meditating upon this delightful theme. Our Saviour
says that the good shepherd, when he putteth forth his own sheep, goeth
before them, and they follow. John x. 4. This is true to the letter.
They are so tame and so trained that they _follow_ their keeper with the
utmost docility. He leads them forth from the fold, or from their houses
in the villages, just where he pleases. As there are many flocks in such
a place as this, each one takes a different path, and it is his business
to find pasture for them. It is necessary, therefore, that they should
be taught to follow, and not to stray away into the unfenced fields of
corn which lie so temptingly on either side. Any one that thus wanders
is sure to get into trouble. The shepherd calls sharply from time to
time to remind them of his presence. They know his voice, and follow on;
but, if a stranger call, they stop short, lift up their heads in alarm,
and, if it is repeated, they turn and flee, because they know not the
voice of a stranger. This is not the fanciful costume of a parable, it
is simple fact. I have made the experiment repeatedly. The shepherd goes
before, not merely to point out the way, but to see if it is practicable
and safe. He is armed in order to defend his charge, and in this he is
very courageous. Many adventures with wild beasts occur, not unlike that
recounted by David (1 Sam. xvii. 34-36), and in these very mountains;
for though there are now no lions here, there are wolves in abundance;
and leopards and panthers, exceeding fierce, prowl about the wild
wadies. They not unfrequently attack the flock in the very presence of
the shepherd, and he must be ready to do battle at a moment’s warning. I
have listened with intense interest to their graphic descriptions of
downright and desperate fights with these savage beasts. And when the
thief and the robber come (and come they do), the faithful shepherd has
often to put his life in his hand to defend his flock. I have known more
than one case in which he had literally to lay it down in the contest. A
poor faithful fellow last spring, between Tiberias and Tabor, instead of
fleeing, actually fought three Bedawin robbers until he was hacked to
pieces with their khanjars, and died among the sheep he was defending.
Some sheep always keep near the shepherd, and are his special
favourites. Each of them has a name, to which it answers joyfully, and
the kind shepherd is ever distributing to such, choice portions which he
gathers for that purpose. These are the contented and happy ones. They
are in no danger of getting lost or into mischief, nor do wild beasts or
thieves come near them. The great body, however, are mere worldlings,
intent upon their mere pleasures or selfish interests. They run from
bush to bush, searching for variety or delicacies, and only now and then
lift their heads to see where the shepherd is, or, rather, where the
general flock is, lest they get so far away as to occasion a remark in
their little community, or rebuke from their keeper. Others, again, are
restless and discontented, jumping into everybody’s field, climbing into
bushes, and even into leaning trees, whence they often fall and break
their limbs. These cost the good shepherd incessant trouble.—_W. M.
Thomson, D.D., in “The Land and the Book.”_
_Verse 1.—“Shepherd.”_ As we sat, the silent hillsides around us were in
a moment filled with life and sound. The shepherds led their flocks
forth from the gates of the city. They were in full view, and we watched
them and listened to them with no little interest. Thousands of sheep
and goats were there, grouped in dense, confused masses. The shepherds
stood together until all came out. Then they separated, each shepherd
taking a different path, and uttering as he advanced a shrill peculiar
call. The sheep heard them. At first the masses swayed and moved, as if
shaken by some internal convulsion; then points struck out in the
direction taken by the shepherds; these became longer and longer until
the confused masses were resolved into long, living streams, flowing
after their leaders. Such a sight was not new to me, still it had lost
none of its interest. It was perhaps one of the most vivid illustrations
which human eyes could witness of that beautiful discourse of our Lord
recorded by John, “And the sheep hear the shepherd’s voice: and he
calleth his own sheep by name, and leadeth them out. And when he putteth
forth his own sheep, he goeth before them, and the sheep follow him: for
they know his voice. And a stranger will they not follow, but will flee
from him: for they know not the voice of strangers,” chap. x. 3-5. The
shepherds themselves had none of that peaceful and placid aspect which
is generally associated with pastoral life and habits. They looked more
like warriors marching to the battle-field—a long gun slung from the
shoulder, a dagger and heavy pistols in the belt, a light battle-axe or
ironheaded club in the hand. Such were the equipments; and their fierce
flashing eyes and scowling countenances showed but too plainly that they
were prepared to use their weapons at any moment.—_J. L. Porter, A.M.,
in “The Giant Cities of Bashan,” 1867._
_Verse 1.—“I shall not want.”_ You must distinguish ’twixt _absence_,
and ’twixt _indigence_. _Absence_ is when some thing is not present;
_indigence_ or _want_, is when a needful good is not present. If a man
were to walk, and had not a staff, here were something absent. If a man
were to walk, and had but one leg, here were something whereof he were
indigent. It is confessed that there are many good things which are
absent from a good person, but no good thing which he wants or is
indigent of. If the good be absent and I need it not, this is no want;
he that walks without his cloak, walks well enough, for he needs it not.
As long as I can walk carefully and cheerfully in my general or
particular calling, though I have not such a load of accessories as
other men have, yet I _want_ nothing, for my little is enough and serves
the turn.... Our corruptions are still craving, and they are always
inordinate, they can find more wants than God needs to supply. As they
say of fools, they can propose more questions than twenty wise men need
to answer. They in James iv. 3, did _ask_, but _received not_; and he
gives two reasons for it:—1. This _asking_ was but a _lusting_: “ye lust
and have not” (verse 4): another, they did ask _to consume it upon their
lusts_ (verse 3). God will see that his people shall not want; but
withal, he will never engage himself to the satisfying of their
corruptions, though he doth to the supply of their conditions. It is one
thing what the sick man wants, another what his disease wants. Your
ignorance, your discontents, your pride, your unthankful hearts, may
make you to believe that you dwell in a barren land, far from mercies
(as melancholy makes a person to imagine that he is drowning, or
killing, etc.); whereas if God did open your eyes as he did Hagar’s, you
might see fountains and streams, mercies and blessings sufficient;
though not many, yet enough, though not so rich, yet proper, and every
way convenient for your good and comfort; and thus you have the genuine
sense, so far as I can judge of David’s assertion, “_I shall not
want_.”—_Obadiah Sedgwick._
_Verse 1.—“I shall not want.”_ Only he that can want does not want; and
he that cannot does. You tell me that a godly man wants these and these
things, which the wicked man hath; but I tell you he can no more be said
to “_want_” them than a butcher may be said to want Homer, or such
another thing, because his disposition is such, that he makes no use of
those things which you usually mean. ’Tis but only necessary things that
he cares for, and those are not many. But _one_ thing is necessary, and
that he hath chosen, namely, _the better part_. And therefore if he have
nothing at all of all other things, he does not _want_, neither is there
anything _wanting_ which might make him rich enough, or by absence
whereof his riches should be said to be deficient. A body is not
_maimed_ unless it have lost a principal part: only _privative_ defects
discommend a thing, and not those that are _negative_. When we say,
there is nothing _wanting_ to such-and-such a creature or thing that a
man hath made, we mean that it hath all that belongs necessarily to it.
We speak not of such things as may be added for compliments or ornaments
or the like, such as are those things usually wherein wicked men excel
the godly. Even so it is when we say that a godly man _wanteth nothing_.
For though in regard of unnecessary goods he be “as having nothing;” yet
in regard of others he is as if he possessed all things. He wants
nothing that is necessary either for his glorifying of God (being able
to do that best in and by his afflictions), or for God’s glorifying of
him, and making him happy, having God himself for his portion and supply
of his wants, who is abundantly sufficient at all times, for all
persons, in all conditions.—_Zachary Bogan._
_Verse 1.—“I shall not want.”_ To be raised above the fear of want by
committing ourselves to the care of the Good Shepherd, or by placing our
confidence in worldly property, are two distinct and very opposite
things. The confidence in the former case, appears to the natural man to
be hard and difficult, if not unreasonable and impossible: in the latter
it appears to be natural, easy, and consistent. It requires, however, no
lengthened argument to prove that he who relies on the promise of God
for the supply of his temporal wants, possesses an infinitely greater
security than the individual who confides in his accumulated wealth. The
ablest financiers admit that there must be appended to their most choice
investments, this felt or expressed proviso—“So far as human affairs can
be secure.”... Since then no absolute security against want can be found
on earth, it necessarily follows, that he who trusts in God is the most
wise and prudent man. Who dare deny that the promise of the living God
is an absolute security?—_John Stevenson._
_Verse 1.—“I shall not want.”_ The sheep of Christ may change their
pasture, but they shall never want a pasture. “Is not the life more than
meat, and the body than raiment?” Matt. vi. 25. If he grant unto us
great things, shall we distrust him for small things? He who has given
us heavenly beings will also give us earthly blessings. The great
Husbandman never overstocked his own commons.—_William Secker._
_Verse 1.—“I shall not want.”_ Ever since I heard of your illness, and
the Lord’s mercy in sustaining and restoring, I have been intending to
write, to bless the Lord with my very dear sister, and ask for some
words to strengthen my faith, in detail of your cup having run over in
the hour of need. Is it not, indeed, the bleating of Messiah’s sheep,
“_I shall not want_”? “shall not want,” because the Lord is our
Shepherd! Our Shepherd the All-sufficient! nothing can unite itself to
him; nothing mingle with him; nothing add to his satisfying nature;
nothing diminish from his fulness. There is a peace and fulness of
expression in this little sentence, known only to the sheep. The
remainder of the Psalm is a drawing out of this, “_I shall not want_.”
In the unfolding we find repose, refreshment, restoring mercies,
guidance, peace in death, triumph, an overflowing of blessings; future
confidence, eternal security in life or death, spiritual or temporal,
prosperity or adversity, for time or eternity. May we not say, “_The
Lord is my Shepherd_”? for we stand on the sure foundation of the
twenty-third Psalm. How can we want, when united to him! we have a right
to use all his riches. Our wealth is his riches and glory. With him
nothing can be withheld. Eternal life _is_ ours, with the promise that
_all_ shall be added; all _he_ knows we want. Our Shepherd has learned
the wants of his sheep by experience, for he was himself “led as a sheep
to the slaughter.” Does not this expression, dictated by the Spirit,
imply a promise, and a full promise, when connected with his own words,
“_I know my sheep_,” by what painful discipline he was instructed in
this knowledge, subjected himself to the wants of every sheep, every
lamb of his fold, that he might be able to be touched with a feeling of
their infirmities? The timid sheep has nothing to fear; fear not want,
fear not affliction, fear not pain; “_fear not_;” according to your want
shall be your supply, “The Lord is my portion, saith my soul;
_therefore_ will I trust in him.”—_Theodosia A. Howard, Viscountess
Powerscourt (1830), in “Letters,” etc., edited by Robert Daly, D.D.,
1861._
_Verse 1.—“I shall not want.”_ One of the poor members of the flock of
Christ was reduced to circumstances of the greatest poverty in his old
age, and yet he never murmured. “You must be badly off,” said a
kind-hearted neighbour to him one day as they met upon the road, “you
must be badly off; and I don’t know how an old man like you can maintain
yourself and your wife; yet you are always cheerful!” “Oh, no!” he
replied, “we are not badly off, I have a rich Father, and he does not
suffer me to want.” “What! your father not dead yet? he must be very old
indeed!” “Oh!” said he, “my Father never dies, and he always takes care
of me!” This aged Christian was a daily pensioner on the providence of
his God. His struggles and his poverty were known to all; but his own
declaration was, that he never wanted what was absolutely necessary. The
days of his greatest straits were the days of his most signal and timely
deliverances. When old age benumbed the hand of his industry, the Lord
extended to him the hand of charity. And often has he gone forth from
his scanty breakfast, not knowing from what earthly source his next meal
was to be obtained. But yet with David he could rely on his Shepherd’s
care, and say, “I shall not want;” and as certainly as he trusted in
God, so surely, in some unexpected manner was his necessity
supplied.—_John Stevenson._
_Verse 1._—In the tenth chapter of John’s gospel, you will find six
marks of Christ sheep:—1. They _know their Shepherd_; 2. They _know his
voice_; 3. They _hear him_ calling them each by name; 4. They _love
him_.; 5. They _trust him_; 6. They _follow him_—_In “The Shepherd
King,” by the Authoress of “The folded Lamb” [Mrs. Rogers], 1856._
_Verses 1-4._—Come down to the river; there is something going forward
worth seeing. Yon shepherd is about to lead his flock across; and as our
Lord says of the good shepherd—you observe that he goes before, and the
sheep follow. Not all in the same manner, however. Some enter boldly,
and come straight across. These are the loved ones of the flock, who
keep hard by the footsteps of the shepherd, whether sauntering through
green meadows by the still waters, feeding upon the mountains, or
resting at noon beneath the shadow of great rocks. And now others enter,
but in doubt and alarm. Far from their guide, they miss the ford, and
are carried down the river, some more, some less; and yet, one by one,
they all struggle over and make good their landing. Notice those little
lambs. They refuse to enter, and must be driven into the stream by the
shepherd’s dog, mentioned by Job in his “parable.” Poor things! how they
leap, and plunge, and bleat in terror! That weak one yonder will be
swept quite away, and perish in the sea. But no; the shepherd himself
leaps into the stream, lifts it into his bosom, and bears it trembling
to the shore. All safely over, how happy they appear! The lambs frisk
and gambol about in high spirits, while the older ones gather round
their faithful guide, and look up to him in subdued but expressive
thankfulness. Now, can you watch such a scene, and not think of that
Shepherd who leadeth Joseph like a flock; and of another river, which
all his sheep must cross? He, too, goes before, and, as in the case of
this flock, they who keep near him “fear no evil.” They hear his sweet
voice saying, “When thou passest through the waters, I will be with
thee; and through the rivers they shall not overflow thee.” Isaiah
xliii. 2. With eye fastened on him, they scarcely see the stream, or
feel its cold and threatening waves.—_W. M. Thomson._
_Verse 2.—“He maketh me to lie down in green pastures,”_ etc. Not only
he hath “_green pastures_” to lead me into, which shows his ability, but
he _leads me into them_, which shows his goodness. He leads me not into
pastures that are withered and dry, that would distaste me before I
taste them; but he leads me into “_green_ pastures,” as well to please
my eye with the verdure as my stomach with the herbage; and inviting me,
as it were, to eat by setting out the meat in the best colour. A meat
though never so good, yet if it look not handsomely, it dulls the
appetite; but when besides the goodness it hath also a good look, this
gives the appetite another edge, and makes a joy before enjoying. But
yet the goodness is not altogether in the greenness. Alas! green is but
a colour, and colours are but deceitful things; they might be green
leaves, or they might be green flags or rushes; and what good were to me
in such a greenness? No, my soul; the goodness is in being “green
_pastures_,” for now they perform as much as they promise; and as in
being _green_ they were a comfort to me as soon as I saw them, so in
being green “_pastures_” they are a refreshing to me now as soon as I
taste them. As they are pleasant to look on, so they are wholesome to
feed on: as they are sweet to be tasted, so they are easy to be
digested; that I am now, methinks, in a kind of paradise and seem not to
want anything unless perhaps a little water with which now and then to
wash my mouth, at most to take sometimes a sip: for though sheep be no
great drinkers, and though their pastures being green, and full of sap,
make drink the less needful; yet some drink they must have besides. And
now see the great goodness of this Shepherd, and what just cause there
is to depend upon his providence; for he lets not his sheep want this
neither, but “_he leadeth them beside still waters_,” not waters that
roar and make a noise, enough to fright a fearful sheep, but waters
“_still_” and quiet; that though they drink but little, yet they may
drink that little without fear. And may I not justly say now, “_The Lord
is my Shepherd; I shall not want_”? And yet perhaps there will be want
for all this; for is it enough that he lead them into green pastures and
beside still waters? May he not lead them in, and presently take them
out again before their bellies be half full; and so instead of making
them happy, make them more miserable? set them in a longing with the
sight, and then frustrate them of their expectation? No, my soul; the
measure of this Shepherd’s goodness is more than so. He not only leadeth
them into green pastures, but “_he makes them to lie down_” _in them_—he
leads them not in to post over their meat as if they were to eat a
passover, and to take it _in transitu_, as dogs drink Nylus; but, “_he
makes them to lie down in green pastures_,” that they may eat their fill
and feed at leisure; and when they have done, “_lie down_” and take
their ease, that their after reckoning may be as pleasing as their
repast.—_Sir Richard Baker._
_Verse 2.—“He leadeth me.”_ Our guiding must be mild and gentle, else it
is not _duxisti_, but _traxisti_—drawing and driving, and no _leading_.
_Leni spiritu non durâ manu_—rather by an inward sweet influence to be
_led_, than by an outward extreme violence to be forced forward....
Touching what kind of cattle, to very good purpose, Jacob, a skilful
shepherd, answereth Esau (who would have had Jacob and his flocks have
kept company with him in his _hunting_ pace), Nay, not so, sir, said
Jacob, it is a tender cattle that is under my hands, and must be softly
driven, as they may endure: if one “should over drive them but one day,”
they would all die or be laid up for many days after. Gen. xxxiii.
13.—_Lancelot Andrewes._