Sam Bush, “Who Rescued Who?”
There are several written works that are embedded into our collective subconscious, words that you know by heart, without even realizing it. For example, I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America; Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house; Just a small town girl, livin' in a lonely world, she took the midnight train going anywhere. (Listen, love it or hate it, “Don’t Stop Believing” is a part of our cultural DNA whether you like it or not.)
Today’s psalm, Psalm 23, has had its place in the canon for millenia. The other day, I was with a man in his nineties who has dementia. During the visit, he was convinced that someone was trying to take his car which was a fantasy. But we started reading Psalm 23 together and he fell right in line. He knew every word. It brought him back to reality. There is a reason why Psalm 23 is chosen for so many funerals. It goes back to basics. It speaks to the fundamental truths of what it means to be a person and how God relates to us.
How does he relate to us? For starters, he is the subject. This psalm is about the Lord. He is the active agent. He makes me lie down, He leads me, He revives my soul, He guides me along right pathways. As the sheep, the only thing we do is whatever the shepherd directs us to do. It’s like the New Yorker cartoon where a dog is complaining to a friend, “It’s always sit, stay, heel, never think, innovate, be yourself!” As sheep, we don’t get a lot of say. Yet, under the care of the shepherd, there is no need to complain. “I shall not want” means “I shall not lack what I need.” We are being directed, protected and sustained from beginning to end. “All the days of my life.”
Still, we like to reverse the role. We like to assign ourselves as the shepherds, with Jesus as our trusty sidekick. We would prefer “The Lord is my life coach, I shall optimize my work/life balance,” or maybe “The Lord is my agent and shall open doors to success all the days of my life.” And yet, a sheep who takes matters into its own hands is not long for this world - at least in the valley of the shadow of death where thieves and predators wait behind every corner - which is why it’s important that this Psalm insists that the Lord is not second in command, but our director and leader.
The notion of God going before us is echoed in our baptismal liturgy: “through the water of baptism, God led the children of Israel into the land of promise, in it, Jesus was anointed to lead us from the bondage of sin into everlasting life.” As Christians, we are not left to “choose our own adventure” or to “find our truth,” but to be found by the watchful shepherd and to follow his lead.
But it can be hard to follow his lead. The Lord’s shepherding strategies feel a bit outdated. The world is full of modern-day shepherds. Chances are you are shepherding someone, be it a friend or an aging parent. There are doctors, nurses, teachers, coaches and, of course, parents. Shepherding children is a terrifying ordeal. With all the slings and arrows of life, parents want to protect their children at all costs and the parenting industry is well aware of that. There is a cavalcade of apps, gadgets and experts to lead us to successfully shepherd our little flocks. In last week’s Atlantic article titled, “Parenthood Cannot Be Optimized,” Hillary Kelly sites a long list of online courses with titles such as “Taming Temper Tantrums” and “Winning the Toddler Stage,” as if a tiny child were less a lamb and more a foe to be defeated, as if parenting were perfectable. “Some advice is certainly helpful,” she writes, “but the idea of mastery in parenting is an illusion—one that seems to lurk just beyond an ever-receding horizon,” she writes. When we see ourselves as the chief shepherd of our own lives and the lives of others, life can be exhausting and terrifying. Try as we might, our human shepherding is ultimately amateurish. The Lord, however, is a professional.
God, however, allows his sheep to roam, seemingly free range. He does not hover over us or tell us what to do, even when we could really use some guidance. For some reason, he allows us to make terrible mistakes, even if those mistakes lead to harm.
His aim is not to control or master, but rather to love. It is not the absence of evil or harm that comforts us. It’s his rod and his staff, his very presence. “I shall fear no evil; for you are with me.” Should we find ourselves in harm’s way - and we will; when we are lost, defenseless, anxious and afraid - we can fully trust Him to come to our rescue.
In those moments, we will find that our relationship with God is not collaborative. It is not “Help me, help you.” It is help for the helpless. You’ve seen the bumper sticker for owners of rescue animals. The paw print that says "Who rescued who?" It's a sweet thought that some forsaken animal actually rescued its owner from loneliness. But God does not have that bumper sticker on His car. Who rescued who? He rescued you (and me) - it's not a mutual saving. How exactly does he save? Not by removing us from suffering and pain, but by entering into it himself. In order to redeem our sheepishness, you see - our neediness, stubbornness and fear - The Good Shepherd became a Lamb. A lamb who, on the Cross, entered into the valley of the shadow of death and by whose blood we are saved.
The author Donald Miller once told a story about a Navy SEALS team on a covert operation, to free a group of hostages. They stormed the building where the hostages had been imprisoned for months, in a room that was filthy and dark. But their arrival was not greeted with cheers, but frightened gasps. The hostages were not in their right mind. They didn’t believe they were being rescued. They sat on the floor, huddled in a corner, refusing to move.
He says, “The SEALs stood there, not knowing what to do. They couldn’t possibly carry everybody out. One of the SEALs got an idea. He put down his weapon, took off his helmet, and curled up tightly next to the other hostages, getting so close his body was touching some of theirs. He softened the look on his face and put his arms around them. He was trying to show them he was one of them. None of the prison guards would have done this. He stayed there for a little while until some of the hostages started to look at him, finally meeting his eyes. The Navy SEAL whispered that they were there to rescue them. Will you follow us? he said.” He stood to his feet and one of the hostages did the same, then another, until all of them were willing to go. The story ends with all the hostages safe on an aircraft carrier.
When you are feeling helpless and hopeless, when the well being of the people you love is beyond your control, I hope the words of Psalm 23, buried in your subconscious, will come to mind. Its words will bring you back to the basics of life: The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil; for you are with me. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
Amen.
