For You Are With Me
Psalm 23 reveals a paradox in the Christian faith. Emily Freeman, spiritual director, author and podcaster, explains that ‘Psalm 23 has the potential to reveal to us a new kind of life. But first we must come to grips with this one reality: no one is immune to suffering and struggle is a part of life.’ In part two of this three-part series, Jules Badger explores the ‘with-ness’ of the shepherd who accompanies us through life’s trials and tribulations.
Psalm 23 is, of course, a poem. We cannot fully appreciate its beauty and symmetry in the English language, but when we read it in the original Hebrew, we discover something astounding: if you count 26 Hebrew words from the beginning of the poem and 26 Hebrew words from the end, and meet in the middle, then the phrase you land upon is, ‘for you are with me’. I don’t know about you, but I find this stunning! At the very heart of Psalm 23—verse 4—is the promise of God’s presence, the ‘with-ness’ of God through our struggle and strife.
‘Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me. Your rod and your staff, they comfort me.’ (NKJV)
Not what, but who…
In this same verse there is also a subtle shift from referring to God as ‘he’ to ‘you’. What initiates this shift? The darkest valley. It’s in this unwanted space that the psalmist discovers something new. And it’s not a case of what the psalmist finds in the darkness, but who. Who does the psalmist find there? A God who is with him. A God who is close.
The New Living Translation says, ‘I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me’. The Psalmist discovers an intimacy with God not previously sought or needed in the light, and so not experienced.
When everything is going well in our lives, we often think we are full of faith, when the truth is often the opposite—what we’re full of is self-sufficiency. And then when things turn to custard, we turn to God. As Charles Swindoll writes, ‘When I ask people when they really grew spiritually, they never describe an easy time. Never.’
The idea of the ‘with-ness’ of God has captured my attention in a new and deeper way, bringing a freshness and lightness to the reality of God’s presence in my life—especially when times are tough. Not only have I learnt that the shepherd is right there, but he’s come prepared with the tools of his trade at the ready. A shepherd uses a rod to protect the sheep from predators, and a staff (or crook) to guide them away from harm. When a sheep is in trouble, being hooked around the neck with a staff and firmly hauled up the side of a cliff may look uncomfortable, but it is necessary and it’s always towards the safety of the shepherd’s presence that the sheep is pulled.
When I fell into the pit of despair and hopelessness, I felt so very vulnerable. I was vulnerable. But the shepherd came after me. He found me all alone in that pit, and then gently but firmly hauled me out, tended my wounds and brought me back into the fold.
Where, not why…
Suffering and struggle are part of life. If you are in doubt, check out the Scriptures! All the biblical greats navigated difficulty, despair and darkness—and yet the Lord was with them. We must come to grips with this, as Emily Freeman encourages, because this is the paradox of our faith. I know the Lord is my shepherd, and I will walk through the darkest valley. In verse 5 this paradox is most poignant.
‘You prepare a feast for me in the presence of my enemies.’ (NLT)
God prepares a feast for me, and yet I still have enemies. Our brothers and sisters from the persecuted Church around the world live in this paradox every day. It’s God’s with-ness that sustains them. Not everyone will love us for our choice to follow Jesus. And yet, God is with us.
I’ve been reminded that rather than asking why something bad or painful may be happening, looking for where God is, is a very different posture. It’s a posture of faith and trust during times of challenge or suffering. It’s a posture of alertness and expectancy. It’s a posture that, in my experience at least, invites peace—peace that not only ‘surpasses all understanding’ but peace that is hard to explain because it is a gift from God—a gift we can only receive precisely because we find ourselves in seasons and situations that we do not understand. When we find ourselves continually asking God why, we miss the God moments and everyday miracles.
Why places me in the centre of things, and my limited understanding becomes the focus rather than the expansive mystery of the One whose ways are not our ways, the One who can ‘do immeasurably more than we could ever ask or imagine’. We miss the power of the promise of the ‘with-ness’ of God when we give in to the why question.
Letting go to be with…
Christian artist Tauren Wells writes and sings, ‘it ain’t even faith ‘til your plan falls apart and you still choose to follow’. Powerful words! He adds, ‘Grace will be there when you come to the end of your rope, and you let go’.
I’m so grateful for the revelation of the ‘with-ness’ of the God who loves me with an everlasting love, even (and especially) when I come to the end of my rope, my strength, my resources, myself. Even (and especially) then, the ‘with-ness’ of God remains. Yes, we know that Jesus calls us to abide in him—that’s our part—but wrapped around that abiding is his ‘with-ness’. And while, shockingly, God’s ‘with-ness’ is not dependent on our abiding, it’s our abiding that illuminates God’s ‘with-ness’.
