The Spiritual Leader
Notes
Transcript
Ephesians 5:15-16, Psalm 23:1-6
Ephesians 5:15-16, Psalm 23:1-6
Intro:
Charlie Kirk Comments - Sorrow for his family, and the family of the assailants.
We sit with tragedy, and we sit with questions. Every week it feels like we are confronted with new reminders that the world is not as it should be. We see violence that robs families of fathers and mothers. We see injustice that wounds the most vulnerable. We see hatred that seems to multiply with every news cycle. And deep inside, we find ourselves asking: How should we live in a world like this?
How do we respond when the headlines leave us overwhelmed, when our neighbors are hurting, when evil seems to have the upper hand?
But the question isn’t only about out there. If we’re honest, it’s also about in here. This constant barrage of sorrow and division doesn’t just touch the world—it touches our own hearts. It leaves us weary, cynical, anxious, and sometimes even numb.
So maybe the question we need to wrestle with today is this: How are we supposed to live in the midst of good and evil? Not just in theory, but in our daily steps, in our homes, in the way we spend our days.
And this is where the apostle Paul’s words give us both clarity and hope. To the spiritually healthy family, to the people of God walking together in difficult days, he writes in:
Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil.
Paul wrote these words in the second half of Ephesians, where he shifts from doctrine (what God has done for us in Christ, chapters 1–3) to application (how we live in response, chapters 4–6).
In chapter 5 specifically, Paul is urging the church to “walk in love” (v. 2), “walk as children of light” (v. 8), and not “walk in darkness” or be deceived by the empty ways of the world.
He’s reminding us that life in Christ is not casual. It requires attentiveness—literally, the Greek says, “Look carefully at how you walk.” In other words, pay attention to your steps. Don’t just drift through life.
And when Paul says, “make the best use of the time” the phrase literally means “redeem the time” or “buy back the time.”
It’s the language of urgency—time is short, the days are evil, and every moment matters.
The context of “the days are evil” isn’t meant to scare us, but to remind us that we live in a world that is bent against God. Evil is real. Darkness is powerful. But it also means every moment of faithfulness, every act of love, every step in the light becomes a radical witness to the kingdom of God.
So Paul’s command here is deeply practical: In a world filled with distraction, violence, and evil, the people of God are called to live carefully, intentionally, and wisely, stewarding every moment for the glory of Christ.
Notice how Paul doesn’t say, “Ignore the darkness and focus on yourself.” He doesn’t offer a shallow optimism or a distraction from reality.
He says, Be careful. Live wisely. Make the most of every opportunity.
In other words, our calling in the midst of a dark world is to live intentionally. To let the light of Christ guide our every step.
To let His Spirit shape our response to tragedy and evil, instead of reacting out of fear, anger, or confusion.
This is exactly what it means to walk in the light, as Jesus promised in John 8:12:
Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”
Walking in the light isn’t simply about avoiding sin or making “good choices.” It’s about letting the glory of God illuminate our path, shaping how we respond to the world around us—especially when the world seems hostile, violent, or unfair.
So, as we reflect on the tragic events of this week, and as we consider the pressures and distractions around us, Paul’s call is clear:
live wisely, make the most of every opportunity, and let the light of Christ guide your life.
This is the peculiar majesty of God’s kingdom, where weakness serves to reveal real strength, and where ordinary lives can shine with His glory.
In Indonesia, on August 27, 1883, the island of Krakatoa experienced one of the most powerful volcanic eruptions in recorded history. I’ve shared this story before, but I think it serves us well today. The initial blast was estimated to be ten thousand times more powerful than the atomic bomb. The sound was so violent that it could be heard over 2,000 miles away—imagine an explosion in Carl Junction being heard as far away as Seattle.
The sky turned red, the sea boiled, and rocks rained from the heavens. Many who lived through it believed the end of the world had come. In fact, the eruption was so catastrophic that even in North America the skies appeared red and the sun was darkened. Over 36,000 people died. The world was left stunned, grieving, and uncertain about what the future would hold.
At the time, the world was in the midst of the Industrial Revolution—a season of enormous technological progress. Humanity had never felt so powerful, so confident in its ability to shape its own destiny. But in a single moment, Krakatoa reminded everyone how fragile and small human beings really are.
Seven weeks later, when a Dutch engineering team set foot on the island, they discovered that Krakatoa had been completely transformed. Whole mountain peaks were gone. Parts of the island had sunk into the sea. Other parts had expanded outward. The familiar forests and wildlife were gone, replaced with fields of ash and rivers of hardened rock. What had been was no more, and what would be was unknown.
The island was left in what we might call a “valley” season. It wasn’t what it once was, and it wasn’t yet what it would become. It was in-between.
And friends, doesn’t that sound familiar? Isn’t that what life feels like right now? We look around at the world and it feels like so much has shifted under our feet. The cultural landscape is different, and it feels like it happened overnight. Even life as the church feels different. What once was is no more, and what will be has not yet taken shape. And in the in-between, we can feel disoriented, uncertain, even hopeless.
But here’s the good news: it’s precisely in moments like this that Paul’s words in Ephesians 5:15–16 become so powerful. “Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil.”
Paul doesn’t promise us an easy path, or a simple escape from the chaos. Instead, he calls us to live differently in the midst of it. To walk carefully. To choose wisdom over foolishness. To redeem the time we’ve been given, because these days—just like in Paul’s time—are marked by evil and uncertainty.
The eruption of Krakatoa permanently reshaped an island. What once was, was gone. What would be, was not yet clear. It was an in-between season—unsettling, uncertain, and full of questions.
And in many ways, the winds have shifted in our own day too.
Political polarization, rapid technological advances, worldwide disasters, and our constant awareness of them—mixed with an endless flood of information from every perspective imaginable, at every moment of the day—has left even Christians spiritually weary, and families anxious like never before.
And in seasons of catastrophe and cultural upheaval, people tend to long for the past while fearing the future. And that combination produces apathy in the present—and I believe that is exactly what the enemy intends.
We get stuck. We freeze. We numb ourselves just to get by.
I believe that’s where many of us find ourselves today—not outright abandoning faith, but drifting into a kind of spiritual apathy. And without realizing it, we’re leading our families and raising the next generation to do the same.
We are so overwhelmed by what was, and so afraid of what may be, that we forget the importance of how we live right now.
And that is exactly why Paul’s words in Ephesians 5:15–16 are so timely:
“Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil.”
So, as we acknowledge the chaos around us: the world reshaped by forces beyond our control, the ways culture and circumstance leave us anxious, and the spiritual weariness that so easily creeps in.
We are now left with the questions that follow Paul’s guidance:
How do we live faithfully in a world that feels overwhelming, unpredictable, and even hostile at times?
How do we walk wisely when the winds have shifted, when the ground beneath our feet seems uncertain, and when the noise of life threatens to drown out the voice of God?
This morning I think we can best understand Paul’s words in light of David’s.
In Psalm 23, David paints an incredible picture of what it looks like to live wisely—not by controlling the world around us, but by trusting in the Shepherd who controls the chaos.
Psalm 23 invites us to step out of apathy and fear and into the confidence that God, who has proven His faithfulness in the past, will lead, provide, and restore in the present.
Where Ephesians 5 calls us to walk carefully in the midst of evil, Psalm 23 shows us the path of that careful walk. It reminds us that even when we are in valleys—dark, uncertain places—there is a Shepherd who leads us, provides for us, and restores our souls. In other words, Psalm 23 gives flesh to Paul’s command: it’s not about mastering our circumstances; it’s about following the Shepherd’s guidance through them.
So as we turn to Psalm 23 today, we will see what it looks like to live wisely in a broken world—not by controlling the chaos, but by walking with the One who has already conquered it, who still waters our souls, and who guides us safely through every valley.
This Psalm has encouraged the weary, fearful christian in the midst of every generation:
“Psalm 23 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.” - Henry Ward Beecher
With that, let’s consider Psalm 23:1
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
When you study the life of David, you see God’s intentionality in preparing him for service. As a young man, David was a shepherd; this is because he was a younger sibling. The role of shepherd often fell to the youngest because it was not a position of honor and was thus undesired.
But David had grown to see the beauty of this lowly role, the significance of the Shepherd was clear to him. When David calls the Lord “his shepherd” he says this as one who had spent years shepherding. He likely recalled memories of rescuing sheep from beasts that sought to devour them; he remembers watering, feeding, and nursing sickly lambs back to health. He recalls wandering for hours looking for the one sheep that strayed away…that rebellious, dumb sheep that always strayed from the safety of the Shepherd, and the herd….in that sheep, David sees himself, as one who now seems constantly in need of rescue.
In the opening verse of this Psalm, David is acknowledging that he is fully dependent on the Lord’s leading for his survival. That he has life, purpose, and provision only because of his Shepherd. This theme and terminology is used all throughout scripture, Old and New Testament →
Isaiah 40:11 tells us that the LORD will feed His flock like a shepherd; He will gather the lambs with His arm.
Micah 7:14 invites the LORD to Shepherd Your people with Your staff…As in days of old.
Zechariah 13:7 speaks of the Messiah as the Shepherd who will be struck, and the sheep scattered (quoted in Matthew 26:31 ).
In John 10:11 and 10:14 , Jesus clearly spoke of Himself as the good shepherd, who gives His life for the sheep and who can say, “I know My sheep, and am known by My own.”
1 Peter 2:25 calls Jesus/the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.
and 1 Peter 5:4 calls Jesus the Chief Shepherd.
Christian, I want to ask you a simple question this morning: Is the Lord your Shepherd in the way David speaks of?
It’s easy to answer “yes” instinctively. Many of us would say it without a second thought. But I want you to pause for a moment and truly consider the question.
Do you trust Him—not just with your Sunday mornings or your good days, but with your whole life?
Do you submit to Him, even when you don’t understand where He is leading you, even when the path seems uncertain or frightening?
Do you bring your needs before Him, laying down your fears, your desires, your longings, and your struggles at His feet?
Every single day, we are faced with this question: God…is He really my Shepherd?
If He is, the promise of this verse is sure: “I shall not want.”
Now, this isn’t a promise that you will get everything you wish for, or that your life will be free from challenges. The Hebrew here is more precise—it means you will not lack what you truly need.
The Shepherd knows His sheep intimately. He knows your needs, even when you don’t. He knows the difference between what is good for you and what would only satisfy a fleeting desire.
Following Him guarantees giving up some things you want, 100%, but you can do so with confidence, because under His care, you have all that you truly need.
And what you truly need, is described in verse 2:
He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.
The Shepherd doesn’t just provide; He restores. He guides. He cares. The needs of your soul—the deep, quiet needs—are met when you trust Him and follow Him.
God knows what His sheep need.
Consider the scene in Exodus 14. Here we see the ultimate “in-between valley.”
God has brought His beloved people out of slavery in Egypt, but now their former captors are coming to kill them and an uncrossable sea stands in front of them, preventing them from retreat. In this moment, there was no hope to be seen, it seemed God had abandoned them. In this moment, they longed for the past and feared the future.
God’s people were ready to give up, to surrender…and then He spoke, saying in:
And Moses said to the people, “Fear not, stand firm, and see the salvation of the Lord, which he will work for you today. For the Egyptians whom you see today, you shall never see again. The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.”
Friend, your Shepherd will split the ocean in two in front of you, and you have only to be silent…
But I ask you, can you do that?
I don’t mean general silence, but can you sit in the Lord’s presence trusting and delighting in Him, knowing He in in control and submitting to His ways?
Can I just acknowledge this today, I really struggle with this.
It’s incredibly rare that I preach anything to you that is not first convicting to me, and today that feels especially true.
Like, I don’t want to be a hypocrite here…this reality has been a deep struggle for me as of late, and God’s tested me in ways that have proved this tension in my heart.
I want to fix things:
I want to fix your pain
I want to fix sin
I want to fix tensions and hurts in our church
I want to fix the reality of sin and brokenness in my own household
And I have a 100 ideas as to how to fix those things…but in reality, only one of them can actually truly bring healing.
All I really have to say to you, is that you need to give what you’re carrying to Jesus, the Good Shepherd:
Bartimaeus, the blind beggar: He cried out to Jesus from the roadside, knowing only the Shepherd could restore his sight.
The woman with the issue of blood: She humbly touched the hem of Jesus’ garment, trusting Him to meet her deepest need.
The centurion seeking healing for his servant: He brought his servant’s sickness to Jesus, confident in His authority to heal.
The paralytic lowered through the roof: His friends brought him to Jesus, making every effort to place his need in the Shepherd’s hands.
The Canaanite woman: She persisted in asking Jesus for her daughter, showing that faith means bringing our need again and again.
Mary and Martha with Lazarus: They sent word to Jesus in their grief, surrendering the one they loved into His care.
Every one of these stories reminds us that the only true response to our needs—physical, emotional, or spiritual—is to bring them to the Good Shepherd, trusting Him to provide, heal, and restore.
If you trust He is your Shepherd, then you don’t have to carry the world on your shoulders, He will fight for you, and you need only to be silent in His presence.
In other words:
Because He is all powerful, you don’t have to be.
Because He has everything under control, you don’t have to.
Because He loves you, you can rest in assurance.
Because we’re his flock we don’t have to fear, but can respond boldly wherever He calls us to follow.
This morning, God’s Word calls us not only to be a healthy gospel family but also to lead and nurture healthy households.
That’s a tall order—and it requires that we lead from a place of health ourselves.
We can’t tell our children how amazing Jesus is while living prayerless lives.
We can’t tell them that Jesus is enough while running around like the world depends on us.
We can’t teach them that Jesus is all they need if we ourselves fail to trust Him with our own needs.
We can’t tell them gospel community is important, and then make it the first thing we’ll sacrifice on our schedule
We can’t tell them the corporate gathering is essential and then cast it aside for “rest”
Psalm 23 reminds us that the Shepherd restores our souls and leads us in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.
This isn’t just poetic language—it’s practical. When we allow the Shepherd to restore us, we gain the capacity to lead others well.
When we don’t trust the Shepherd, we live under the illusion that rest is something we’ll find later.
“One day, when life slows down, I’ll rest.”
“Once all the work is done, then I can pause.”
But if we never place our trust in Him, that day never comes. We keep running, constantly anxious, constantly weary, never experiencing the restoration He offers, and never teaching it to those entrusted to us.
To lead our households faithfully—to be a healthy gospel family—we must first let the Shepherd care for us.
Only then can we model the life of trust, peace, and dependence on God that our families so desperately need.
“Be still, and know that I am God.
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth!”
Brother, Sister, God’s glory is a done deal, when Jesus walked out of that tomb, operation glory was complete!
You want to know the secret to having a healthy soul, believe that….The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.
If you are not taking time to sabbath each week, meaning, setting aside a day, to rest in the Lord.
If you’re not sitting with Jesus, taking in His word and coming to Him in prayer each day, praying for your household, and giving Jesus your needs.
Then the message of your life is that your work is more important than His.
Functionally, you believe that you’re the savior of those placed in your care.
Sabbath rest dissolves the artificial urgency of our days - Wayne Muller
To walk as wise, not as unwise,
to make the best use of your time in the midst of evil days…
You must understand that His work precedes your own.
This is the point of the term “For His names sake.”
God brings you beside still waters, for your good…and His glory. God is not glorified in all that you try to do by your own strength, but in your submission to His.
If the Lord is your Shepherd, then you trust, submit and acknowledge Him as such, knowing you will have what you need, and what you need is rest in Him, your soul restored by His power.
When this becomes the rhythm of your life, you’re equipped to say:
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
Notice the change in David’s words in verse 4. In verses 1-3 David refers to God as “He” and then in verse 4 he approaches God as “You.”
David acknowledges God, who He is, and what He does, and it leads Him to praise.
There is a difference between knowing about God, and knowing God.
And that difference, is a choice you must make each day.
In Psalm 91:1 we see God’s promise to us:
He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.
But then, nine verses later, we see one, two letter word, that can change our entire lives.
If you say, “The Lord is my refuge,” and you make the Most High your dwelling,
no harm will overtake you, no disaster will come near your tent.
The ESV says “because” but on this rare occasion, I think the NIV is actually more accurate with the term “if.”
The term because is true in regards to our salvation, but each day we make a choice whether or not to trust in the Shepherd.
We can be safe in the scope of eternity, and still live lives of fear because we choose not to live in light of His power.
Walking in wisdom, hinges on that “IF”
Jesus says, that to bear fruit, is to “remain in Him” and then He says “apart from me you can do nothing”
So living apart from Him, apart from His power…it’s an option even for the Christian, but friend, it’s not a good one.
Closing:
Closing:
Three years after the first visit to Krakatoa another expedition visited the island and what they found surprised them. They did not arrive to find death and chaos, but they discovered life that was flourishing. Now, the life didn’t look the same as before, but moss, flowering plants, and ferns had grown and filled the island with a new kind of beauty. A year later they would note that there were fields of dense grass so thick that a man could hide himself in them.
From death and chaos…God birthed new life.
At first researchers were confused as to how this had happened in the midst of such destruction and desolation. Soon however it became clear that tiny seeds were carried onto the island from wind and birds, and those seeds, produced new seeds, and slowly but surely rebirth.
God has invited you and I to bring new life to the world, starting in your own households.
In this valley where we seem to live, God is doing something, even when we don’t see it.
Like the birds who carried life to an island of death, we deposit seeds of the gospel in the valley.
For Jesus is the King of the Valley, because it’s in the valley that He saved us:
The cultural chaos of this moment, the massive explosion on Krakatoa…neither of those forces could compare to Good Friday.
All who followed Jesus were filled with hope and joy as He walked the earth, giving His sheep the good news they had long awaited… and then that hope seemed to shatter as the world descended into devastation the moment He drew His last breath.
For three days, the world—and all believers—were trapped in the lowest of valleys. They didn’t know what to do, they longed for the past, and they saw no hope for the future… so they hid in confusion, and apathy began to build quickly.
Yet in that very valley, God was at work in ways far beyond their understanding, preparing to bring new life to all mankind.
The valley is often where God accomplishes His most miraculous work, and so we need not fear uncertainty. Instead, we can rejoice, knowing that even in the depths, God is moving.
Let us Pray
Communion
Communion
In a land filled with adversity, ruled by an enemy who seeks your souls, through His word, Psalm 23 says the Shepherd prepares for you a:
Table in the presence of your enemies
You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
“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.” - (Spurgeon)
As we come to the table today, remember that the Shepherd knows you intimately. He knows your fears, your needs, your weariness, and your doubts. And in the midst of life’s valleys—whether of loss, uncertainty, or pain—He calls you to bring your need to Him, to trust Him, and to rest in His care.
This table is a reminder that He provides for what you truly need, restores your soul, and leads you beside still waters. Each time we eat and drink, we proclaim that we are His, that His blood has given us life, and thus we trust His guidance, and that we receive His provision for body, soul, and spirit.
Here, in this moment, the Shepherd prepares this place for you, not because of your strength, but because of His faithfulness. And as we remember His care, let us lift our hearts in the song of the Psalmist:
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever.
