Embracing the Poetry

Text: “14 I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, 15 just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep.” (John 10:14-15)

“1  The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want” (Psalm 23:1).

Those words of David are beautiful. They have a power that resonates even with unbelievers. And the question today is simple: will you trust them? Will you trust Him— your Good Shepherd.

So will you trust Him? Today, our confirmands come before this altar— all cleaned up; dressed nicely; in beautiful, white robes— and make the promise that each of us made. That we will trust Him, no matter what.

But life is not clean. It’s not nice and orderly. It’s not pretty. Will you trust Him then?

With apologies to King David, the shepherd-king, the poet-king, and his beautiful words, the Lord is your shepherd, but you still want what you can not and should not have. He invites you to lie down in green pastures, but the grass always looks greener on the other side of the fence. He leadeth you beside still waters, but there are more exciting places that you’d love to drink your fill.

He leads you in paths of righteousness, but you want to run other directions, living like the beast that you and I are. He leads you for His name’s sake, but you want to make a name for yourselves.

There are certainly plenty of enemies, but no time for a feast. And fear… there’s plenty of that too. Countless reasons to fear. And, it would seem, few reasons to trust (Paraphrased from “The Lord Is My Shepherd But I Still Want,” by Chad Bird, www.chadbird.squarespace.com, May 7, 2019.). Will you trust Him then?

Do you want to trust Him?

We don't want a Good Shepherd, but a hireling, one who does not own us. We crave our freedoms: freedom to walk in unrighteousness paths if the end justifies the means; freedom to lie down in the Greens’ bed, or the Joneses’ bed, or whatever bed our lower appetites choose; freedom to pull the wool over men’s eyes, to twist every story to paint ourselves in the best light, to lie when we ought to confess, and to confess other men’s lies to make our own wool seem that much whiter than theirs. (Ibid.)

Can you trust Him? Can you really trust Him?

Can you trust Him when the confirmation gown is replaced with the hospital gown? Can you trust Him when it’s your life on the line— or, worse yet, the life of someone you love? Can you really trust Him when the valley of the shadow of death is no longer a far off place in the future, but the nightmare that you wake up to each morning?

“The Lord is my shepherd”— beautiful, poetic words. But can you trust them?

Yes. Because in today’s Gospel reading, Jesus embraces David’s poetry.

What a beautiful image David chose. Without a doubt, during his time tending to his father’s flocks, there would have been wolves that came after the flock. And David, like a faithful shepherd, fought them off and rescued them. Years later, after all that he had seen, after all that he had been through, the best way he could sum it all up was to say, “The Lord is my shepherd.” And now, centuries later, David’s Lord embraces his poetry with both arms. He embraced David’s poetry in order to be your Good Shepherd.

“I am the Good Shepherd,” Jesus says, embracing the poetry with both arms.

[Our Lord, our] David went after the wolf, attacked him, and rescued us from his jaws. When the lion of hell rose up against Him, our David seized him by his beard and struck him and killed him.

No, more than that. He rescued you, but not as the shepherd David did. He laid down His life for you. He laid down His body between you and the satanic wolf, between you and the lion of hell, and gave Himself over to be devoured. The beast of Hades licked up the blood of the slain shepherd, chewed His flesh, and gulped Him down.

But that which the beast wolfed down could not be digested in the tomb of his stomach. And when He who laid down His life took it back again, that tomb could not contain Him. The Good Shepherd vacated the stomach that had entombed Him, leaving behind Him a predator that you, O little flock, need fear no more. (Ibid.)

[F]or us, who are but dust of dust, He who is God of God came down, was beaten down, and beat down Satan under our feet. For us, who are the sheep that love to wander, the Lamb of God is bound to the altar in order to bind us to Himself. For us, whose mouths are open far too often, He did not open His mouth, like a Lamb that is led to the slaughter. (Ibid.)

He raised you up from the pit into which you have fallen. He placed you upon His shoulders and rejoiced to carry you home. He washed you in cleansing waters, bound up that which was broken, and healed all your wounds. [Still, here in the midst of your enemies,] He prepare[s His table] before you and anointed your head with oil. His cup continually runs over—over your lips, over your sins, quenching your thirst while making you yearn for more.

All this He does for you. And because He is the Good Shepherd, you are His good sheep. He gives His life for you. He makes your life His own and His life your own. He became what you are in order to make you what He is. (Ibid.)

Even when you face death, itself, you need not fear. The grave can not hold you. Because it could not hold Him.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow you, shall precede you, shall be on your right and on your left, above you and below you, all the days of your life, and you shall dwell in the flock of the Lord forever. (Ibid.)