The Divine Shepherd
A Psalm of David.
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul. He leads me in right paths for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff— they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long.
As dawn slips on a cool summer morning, the psalm hits home. The day promises to be cool but nearly perfect at 73 degrees. There are some gray clouds racing across the sky in rush to greet the sun somewhere to the east. Flickers sing a squeeze box song in the trees beyond the creek and chickadees chickadee their music from the lilacs. A bucolic setting, serene but for the rush of traffic on Highway 93 lying to the west more than a mile away. The negative aspect of hearing aids is that even though I can hear the whispers of nature better but the roar of traffic is much loader. On a calm still morning, the traffic sounds awfully close.
Psalm 23 should have its own label. Rather than being a praise psalm, it should simply be a peaceful psalm or a pastoral one. I learned the psalm by heart as a child in Methodist Sunday school using the King James version of the bible so often used in the early 60s before the RSV pushed it to the side. Ask me today to recite the psalm and this is what will come out:
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
This is one example of a passage of scripture that should be left in the king's English of the 17th century. After reading both the NAB and the KJS versions, what drifts in front of my eyes are the images of a rod and staff. I think of the Bishop's crozier, the rod of Moses and the processional crucifix found at the St. Mary's Mission chapel which had been shaped out of a shepherd's crook.
A downy woodpecker has arrived to peck at the wooden pole from which the suet is hung. He is very tame and he allows me to approach close enough I could reach out and touch him. I don't do so, however, I don't want him to be concerned at all. I want him to remain unafraid.
Is fear drawing me close to the image of the shepherd's tools used to protect himself and his flock? I there something lurking beyond my awareness that causes me to find comfort in the image of protection? There is nothing threatening me that would cause me to use a staff. My apprehension is not physical it is emotional.
A flicker lands on the feeder across from me, no more than 6 feet away. He is not afraid either. He is used to my presence here and seems to be curiously watching me write. He flits still closer and continues to watch me. The cat mews as if she were warning me of great danger from the birds which visit this morning. The cat represents danger. She would pounce on many of the visitors but perhaps not the flicker that is nearly her size.
The notion of fear crosses my mind again. Am I frightened of something even on this peaceful morning settled deep into solitude? I think of the conflict between Lori and me the last two days. My irrational irritation flared up momentarily when I returned home. What irritated me is unimportant because it was unimportant. I was not hostile or angry. I did not flare up and start a shouting match. I simply bristled but it was enough to provoke her sense of fear of what I might do next, that I might explode with anger. I did not. I was not even close to blowing up.
It is a fact there is something deep inside of me that flares up even though it is unwanted. I am like many other people especially alcoholics who have a hair trigger irritation point that is uncovered for no apparent reason with no warning or known trigger. I work hard to avoid it. I try to look for symptoms that may be observed before to the event so I can learn to avoid or extinguish the spark before it flames. I have made progress but it is a fact, an incredibly sad but certain fact, that I will never be able to erase the potential for unwarranted anger. At my age and with all of the effort I have exerted and my profound desire, I still have not been able to overcome this character defect. I want to, I need to but I cannot make it happen.
What comes next is guarded anger from Lori, a wariness born of living with something wild and unpredictable. The discussion comes about the need to keep it from happening and this is followed by the promise to not have it ever happen again but it is not a promise I can keep despite everything in my being wanting to make it happen. The emotional turmoil will continue throughout the day and into the next and, on this occasion, into the third day.
Like Paul, I have prayed for the thorn to be removed but I can't even tell what the thorn is or what it represents. I can't explain why the irritation is so tightly focused on Lori but it is and it causes someone who should be my rod and staff of comfort and protection is instead in need of comfort and protection myself.
The rod and the staff do not cause me fear nor do they bring me comfort, they simply cause me to examine the fear that is at the root of all my defects. As I end I have not arrived at a point of relief, only continued edginess that more conflict might be coming today but I do not sense it as yet. It is good I will be away for the day; it will allow us to cool. I will stay here in the green pastures of plenty and see if gratitude will offer me the still waters I need to find peace.
There is no blue sky this morning, no sun has come up over the trees, and the clouds are too thick even though they are not threatening. It is just a gray day but there is a promise of sun. There is a splash of color in the cottonwood on the northeast corner of the yard, a clear signal summer is ending quickly.
Lord, make me lie down in a green pasture this morning that I might become the shepherd made in your image I so desire to become.
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