In Psalm 23, David penned his famous words: “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” (Psa 23:4). (Interestingly, most people familiar with the verse know it in King James English. I wonder why?) Very comforting—but what does it actually mean?
The phrase “the valley of the shadow of death” is familiar, but foreign. Most of us have heard it, but do we really know what it is?
The expression “shadow of death” translates the Hebrew phrase gêʾ tsalmāvet. (See? And you thought it was all Greek to you.) It isn’t really talking about death itself. It’s talking about a shadow—a place of deep darkness. Most literally, it means “death’s shadow,” a poetic description of profound gloom. We might say, “Though I walk through the lowest, darkest places in my life…”
Then there’s that “evil” David says he will not fear. What is that? The Hebrew term is raʿ. We routinely interpret “evil” as specifically “moral evil,” but this isn’t that. While raʿ can refer to moral evil in some contexts, here it refers to things that are bad, harmful, injurious, or dangerous.
It is translated this way in Isaiah: “I am YHWH, and there is no other, the One forming light and creating darkness, causing well-being and creating calamity; I am YHWH who does all these” (Isa 45:6–7). The King James says, “I make peace, and create evil,” but we know God doesn’t create moral evil (James 1:13–14), so it’s not that kind of “evil.”
David, then, is saying, “Even though I walk through the darkest, most dangerous places in my life, I will not fear harm, calamity, or serious injury.”
And note—David isn’t sprinting through these things. He’s not fleeing or cowering. He’s walking. In the middle of it. Unafraid.
Why? Because God is there, and He has His rod and staff.
The rod is the tool a shepherd uses to defend his sheep, sometimes with great violence. “I’m safe because You will fight for me.”
The staff is the shepherd’s guidance and rescue tool. He might pull a sheep from the edge of a precipice or lift him out of a ditch. He might tap the sheep with it to turn him in the way he should go. Guidance, rescue, relationship at hand.
David faced valleys in his life. He was running for his life for a long time—and more than once. Yet David claimed he didn’t need to fear during those times. He might run to save his life, but he knew God was there and was always defending and guiding him. David didn’t look for the comfortable; he looked to the character of his Shepherd.
What about you? Do difficult circumstances scare you? Do you fear? You don’t have to. The same Shepherd who walked with David walks with you. His rod still protects. His staff still guides. And His presence still turns the darkest valleys into places where courage can breathe again.
2 comments:
I certainly hope that when the time comes I will rest assured in His promises.
At first reading, one might be puzzled about how David would find comfort in the Shepherd’s “rod” and “staff,” which sound like instruments of unpleasant discipline or even punishment. Once you learn how a shepherd uses those tools to insure the sheep’s safety and protection, however, it makes sense. Knowing that the Lord “has my back” that way helps waylay my fears regarding all that lies ahead for me (as I no doubt will soon face my most challenging years very soon). “All I have seen teaches me to trust the Creator for all that I have not seen.” (Disclaimer: I interpret this thought slightly differently from how Ralph Waldo Emerson meant it.)
Post a Comment