March 19, 2023

 I understand that the Lord is my Shepherd is your Psalm for today, my very favorite Psalm and one that has guided my whole life.  I was born blind but it was a limitation I was used to.  I didn’t know any different.  I participated in my community, my family.  I enjoyed many of the same things other people do—food, going to the synagogue, spending time with friends, listening to music and singing.  Every time I heard this Psalm, I felt so connected with King David, the youngest brother, the unlikely one, the humble one chosen to be King.  If you don’t mind, I’d like to share my view of this beautiful Psalm.

          The Lord is my Shepherd.  For me I have always needed a shepherd.  I have family and friends who guide me through the streets.  But I have a spiritual shepherd guiding me, the Lord who made us all.  Shepherds keep watch over the sheep and protect them, and I always felt protected by the Lord and watched over.  I was never afraid to admit that I was in need of protection—my need was always so obvious to myself and everyone around me.

          I shall not be in want.  I never concentrated on what I didn’t have.  I knew I was capable—there was a lot I could do for myself.  I had many blessings—family and friends and community.  I had abilities and gifts that I shared just like anyone else.  I didn’t think of myself as being in want.

          He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside still waters.  I found God’s gifts to be abundant, plentiful.  There was so much beauty in this world, which you don’t need eyes to see.  I could smell the plants and hear the animals thriving.  I enjoyed hearing the interactions of people helping each other in our village.  I enjoyed sitting by a stream and listening to the water flowing, to smell the sweet stream, knowing that waters were flowing where they were needed and where they gave life.

          You restore my soul.  Here is such an exciting part of the Psalm, where the writer goes from talking about God, to talking to God.  You, God, restore my soul.  This is a beautiful statement of how God recreates us, constantly renews us.  I am well-acquainted with this kind of restoration.  There is the restoration after sleep, after a pilgrimage, after a long day of hard work, in connection with others, in singing, in worship. 

          You guide me along right pathways for your name’s sake—this means that God restores our souls and leads us because that is in God’s nature and character for graciousness.  That’s who God is and what God does.

          Though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I will fear no evil:  Other people feared evil, but I let that go years ago.  When people saw me, they were afraid.  They imagined their own lives completely different.  They felt sorry for me.  They didn’t see what was strong and whole about me.  They saw what they thought of as broken.  They saw my limitation and it brought it too close to home that could be them.  My blindness made them think of their own limitations.  It made them think of shadows.  It made them think of death.

          So they often reacted by trying to blame someone.  They asked many times who sinned.  Whose fault was this that I was blind.  Everyone seemed to have their own answer, but what they didn’t understand is that we all walk through the Valley of the Shadow of death at different points in our lives—sometimes it is when we are dying, sometimes when we are in despair, sometimes a loved one is sick, sometimes we encounter our own limitations.

          But one day I heard this question asked as it had thousands of times before and it was a different answer.  This man said, “It isn’t anyone’s fault.  But so that glory will be given to God, God’s work would be done this day.”  The man didn’t ask me if I wanted to have sight, but simply spit in the mud and spread it on my eyes, and sent me to go wash in the pool called sent, Siloam.  It reminded of the part of the Psalm you anoint my head with oil.  That refers to several anointings—one is the kind that shepherds do to heal the wounds of the sheep.  One is the anointing of King David to set him apart as God’s servant.  Third is the anointing of Messiah, the Christ which means anointed one, who will save the world, heal the people, and bring peace on Earth.

          The Psalm goes on, “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.”  Many enemies were all around me that day that I received my sight.  Many people were in an uproar.  All these critics came charging in.  They didn’t like that I had been healed—maybe because they believed I deserved it as punishment for some sin.  They were angry that this happened on the Sabbath.  For a while everyone was talking about me instead of with me.  But even when I told them what happened, they wouldn’t believe it.  They were so upset.  They thought it must be sorcery, but how could something so kind and tender be a sin.

          They kept asking me over and over what happened and what I thought about this man, but they didn’t like the answer I gave.  I said he was a prophet.  Only prophets could do what he did—what had never been done before.  Only God could give sight.

          I have always known there are many ways of seeing.  Most of my life, I could not physically see, but I could tell if someone was telling the truth.  I could tell if someone was genuinely caring and interested.  I could see problems and faults in our society that hurt people.  But I knew people who were seeing that did not open the eyes of the hearts.  They didn’t treat people like people, didn’t see and respect others.  They refused to acknowledge miracles and signs of God’s love.  They only wanted to see paths to their own wealth and power and would step on anyone to get there.  So I felt sorry for those people most of all.  They were truly afraid of losing what they had, but what they had was not worth hanging on to.  It did not give them life or peace or any of the things that really matter.

          What was obvious to me is that this man was someone different.  He was caring.  He didn’t care one bit for our human rules, or even the temple rules.  He was interested in relationship and healing.  Even though I was driven out that day, I did find my life recreated, my soul renewed and I had the chance to tell that story over and over, until now I come to you today.  Jesus saw me.  He is my shepherd.  He didn’t think one more day should go by until I had my sight.  He exposed the blindness of people around me.  He lifted me up.  Sometimes I think my life was harder after that because I was driven out of my town, but I did find the end of the Psalm true.

          The Psalm ends, “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”  My encounter with Jesus changed my life on the outside—mostly changed how people saw me.  But I still found that the Lord is my shepherd, supplies my every need, leads me through many valleys of shadow, renews my life, anoints my head in healing, gives me strength to face my enemies and gives me goodness and mercy.  Some things don’t change and that’s a good thing.