Psalm 23

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Psalm 23

King James Bible 1611

A psalm is a sacred song, hymn, or poem; usually, the term is associated with the Book of Psalms, a book in the Bible containing 150 of these sacred works. Most of the psalms were originally believed to be written by David, the Hebrew king who lived around 970 b.c.e. Biblical scholars of recent centuries, however, have come to agree that the psalms are, at least in part, the work of many authors. The Old Testament of the King James Version of the Bible contains the most famous English translation of the psalms. Although the King James Version was finished in 1611, the original Hebrew psalm texts are thought to date between the thirteenth and the third centuries b.c.e. The predominant theme of the Book of Psalms is the expression of faith in God, but the individual poems have been classified into many forms, including hymns, laments, songs of confidence, and songs of thanksgiving. Psalm 23 is perhaps the most universally recognized of the psalms. Its popularity over the centuries stems from both the beauty of its poetry and the intensity with which the psalmist expresses trust in God. The psalm’s chief poetic device is the metaphor: God is portrayed as two different archetypal figures in ancient Near Eastern culture, the shepherd and the host. As the shepherd, He guides and protects his flock, which is humankind. As host, God provides for humans, allowing them to celebrate His blessings. Through these metaphors, the psalmist presents a childlike trust in God. This trust is perhaps the purest manifestation of faith: although death and misfortune threaten the speaker, he or she believes in the protection of God. As a result, the speaker has no fear.

Poem Text

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

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.

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of   5
     mine enemies: thou anointest my head with
     oil; my cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the
     days of my life: and I will dwell in the
     house of the Lord for ever.

Poem Summary

Line 1

The first line is perhaps the most famous in all the psalms. Its power derives from the crisp use of metaphor—the assumed, rather than directly stated, comparison between God and a shepherd. The nature of this comparison must have been evident to ancient Hebrews who meditated upon this poem. Like most Near Eastern peoples, the Hebrews relied on a herding economy, and the importance of the shepherd-figure derives not only from the necessity of sheep to that economy but also from the hostile nature of the environment. Because of the predators, poachers, and harsh desert conditions that threatened grazing lands, the shepherd needed to take great care to protect the sheep. The qualities of sheep complete the psalm’s main metaphor. By calling God his shepherd and himself God’s lamb, the psalmist expresses a specific relationship between the two. The psalmist is helpless, innocent, and utterly dependent on God. God, for his part, fulfills his role as shepherd by protecting the psalmist. Thus, the psalmist “shall not want.”

Lines 2-3

The second two verses describe God as a guide. The images in verse 2 are entirely pastoral: the shepherd leads his lamb to “green pastures” and “still waters.” In verse 3, the implications are spiritual:

Media Adaptations

A recording of the entire King James Bible, narrated by Alexander Scourby, can be heard on the Internet at http://www.audio-bible.com/.
Psalm 23 in Middle English can be found on the Web at http://wwwl.cord.edu/faculty/sprunger/e315/psalm23.htm.
Johann Sebastian Bach’s Cantata 85, “Ich bin ein guter Hirt” (I am the good Shepherd) is based on the shepherd theme in the Bible. It includes a solo chorale based on Psalm 23. Psalms 18 through 29 in various musical settings, including Psalm 23 arranged by Charles Hylton Stewart, are available on Psalms from St. Pauls, Volume 2, performed by the St. Paul’s Cathedral Choir on Hyperion Records.

God still leads the psalmist, but the metaphor of the shepherd is no longer evident. This second type of “leading” involves the psalmist’s soul, which God “restoreth” by guiding the psalmist “in the paths of righteousness.” Righteousness here probably refers to the Hebrew law, which is extensively delineated throughout the first books of the Old Testament and was regarded by the Hebrew people as a direct expression of God. By following the Hebrew law, the psalmist is paying tribute to God and furthering God’s influence. Thus, it is in his own “name’s sake” that God leads the speaker to righteousness.

Line 4

In the fourth verse the psalmist discusses faith in terms of trust—which is perhaps the purest expression of faith. The verse also contains implications of misfortunes in the speaker’s life. These are conveyed through the second-most famous metaphor in the poem: “the valley of the shadow of death.” Valleys in ancient Palestine represented many good and terrifying aspects of life. They were places for grazing sheep and for building cities but also for battles. In this verse, the valley is one of death and evil, but because the speaker has utter trust in God as shepherd, he or she is free from fear. God is close by, protecting the speaker with the shepherd’s tools: a rod for use as a weapon, and a staff for support. The psalmist’s sense of personal closeness with God is emphasized by the shift from third to second person: whereas before he referred to God as “He,” now he uses “Thou.”

Line 5

In verse 5, the metaphor for God shifts from shepherd to host. The role of host in most ancient civilizations was an important one. A host was obligated to provide his guests with comfort and pleasure, but he was also responsible for the protection of anyone staying in his house. God as host provides a table for a feast, perhaps the sacrificial feast conducted in the Temple as part of Hebrew religious ceremony. This feast includes an abundance of wine (“my cup runneth over”) as well as oil. Oil in ancient Hebrew culture had many uses. It was often a sign of opulence, and people who could afford oil applied it to their bodies as an expression of gladness and refreshment. Oil was also used to soften wounds, which in this verse might reflect the danger implied in verse 4. But most significant is the ritual of “anointing” in which the Hebrews applied oil to the foreheads of kings, priests, and the sick to symbolize blessing and purification. Though the psalmist is a helpless lamb, he or she is also like a king by virtue of closeness with God. At the same time, however, the speaker is like the sick, vulnerable to death and in need of God’s blessing.

Line 6

The last verse is a final declaration of hope and faith. The hope is eternal: the psalmist’s faith transcends the barriers of time and thus makes the stay in “the house of the Lord” one that will last “for ever.” Since all guests must eventually leave, the last line suggests the psalmist is in fact not a guest but rather a member of the household. As such, he or she is indefinitely entitled to the shelter of the house and the pleasures offered by God.

Themes

Protection and Security

A major theme in the psalm is the security that the Lord provides and will continue to provide; this security includes such things as food and drink, shelter from enemies, and protection in hostile circumstances. This theme is introduced in the psalm’s famous first line, “The Lord is my shepherd.” In this line and the following three verses, the speaker proclaims that the Lord will care for him the same way a shepherd cares for his flock. When the speaker announces “I shall not want,” he is confident that his shepherd will provide everything he needs. Some scholars see an ambiguity in this line as well. They believe that the ancient Hebrew can also mean “I shall not go missing” or “I shall not become separated from the flock,” which for a sheep in the wilderness would be fatal.

Later the Lord is portrayed as a host who provides shelter from one’s enemies. Although the speaker sits “in the presence of mine enemies,” he is in no danger from them. Indeed, he will be protected from all danger, even if he walks “through the valley of the shadow of death.” The Lord’s staff will provide guidance, his rod defense. Verse 4 is the only depiction of this very real and powerful danger. The Lord’s abundant protection eliminates any fear the speaker would otherwise have.

Trust

Psalm 23 is a celebration of trust in the Lord, in his protection and goodness. The simple, direct language of the psalm conveys utter confidence. When the psalmist writes “I shall not want” in the first verse, it is obvious he feels no doubt whatsoever. In the fourth verse, halfway through, the speaker expresses his unwavering conviction in the protection the Lord provides. Regardless what happens, no matter how threatening the situation, “I will fear no evil.” The speaker knows the Lord will protect him. The final verse of Psalm 23 sums up the speaker’s faith. “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.” Based on what the Lord does for him everyday, he concludes that he has nothing to fear in the future.

The psalmist expresses his trust in the Lord in two ways. In the first three and a half verses, he proclaims his trust in the Lord’s goodness to the world. When he writes “he restoreth my soul,” readers have the impression that they are being addressed personally, that the psalmist is telling them of his trust in the Lord. Midway through verse 4, however, the form of address abruptly changes. The speaker no longer refers to the Lord as “He” but as “Thou.” Describing the moment of greatest danger, the psalmist speaks to the Lord directly and makes a personal confession of trust.

Rites of Passage

The psalm depicts a journey, similar to that in Exodus in which the Israelites were led out of Egypt across the desert to the Promised Land. At the beginning of the psalm, the speaker compares himself to a sheep guided by a shepherd. “He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters … he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness.”

In the Exodus story, Moses led his people out of Egypt. Midway through the psalm, the speaker passes through “the valley of the shadow of Death,” similar to the forty years of wandering in the desert. The danger is only imagined by the speaker. Nevertheless the threat has been overcome, the passage complete, and the speaker is welcomed into the safety of Lord’s household. At first the speaker is a guest. But ultimately, in the psalm’s final “passage,” the speaker is adopted as a member of the Lord’s own family.

So the psalm depicts a rite of passage that begins with faith in the Lord, faith that leads through danger to salvation. That it is movement toward greater good is obvious in the steady improvement in the status of the speaker. He begins as a sheep in a flock, is welcomed as a guest by the Lord, and ultimately attains the status of family member.

The Covenant

The Covenant was the solemn agreement that established a special relationship between the Lord and the Jewish people. As a result of the relationship, the Jews were marked as the Lord’s chosen people on earth. Psalm 23 depicts this holy covenant; as the first sign, the speaker addresses the Lord as “Thou” rather than referring to him as “He,” which suggests a much more personal relationship. In verse 5, the Lord is portrayed as host who takes the speaker in and provides food and protection. Significantly, the Lord surpasses the normal expectations of a host; for example, “thou annointest my head with oil,” a ritual usually reserved for honored guests, suggests a very special relationship.

In ancient Israel, covenants were sealed with a meal. That the meal has sealed a special relationship between the Lord and the psalmist is obvious when he writes “I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.” The Lord has made the speaker a member of his immediate family. Family bonds imply the special relationship, for family members have duties toward the rest of the family, and they reap special benefits from their place in the family.

Topics for Further Study

What contemporary profession could you use as a metaphor for God? Write a poem that extends the metaphor, showing specific parts of the job and explaining how these are similar to things God does.
Which one stanza do you think fits most awkwardly into the poem? Which one stanza do you think best captures the thought and feeling of the entire poem? Explain the reasons you came to these conclusions.

Style

In ancient Hebrew poetry, the verse comprises the basic unit of thought. Generally the verse is broken into two parts in which the idea expressed in the first is balanced or expanded in the second. This characteristic is called parallelism, and there are several types common in the psalms. One type, synthetic parallelism, involves the explanation or elaboration in the second part of an idea presented in the first part. This is the chief device used in Psalm 23, and good examples of it can be seen in verses 4 and 5. In verse 4, the first part declares that the speaker walks “through the valley of the shadow of death,” but is not afraid. The second part explains why: God is with the speaker, protecting him or her the way a shepherd protects a lamb. Verse 5 shows a slightly different type of synthetic parallelism. While the first part introduces the idea of a “table” that God has prepared for the psalmist, the second part elaborates the idea with specific images. The table becomes a feast, replete with “oil” and a cup that “runneth over.”

Historical Context

The Composition of the Psalms

The precise date of their composition has never been firmly established by scholars. Traditions extending back to ancient times credit them to King

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Today: The tobacco industry, accused of selling products harmful to public health, is forced to pay a government settlement totaling billions of dollars.
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David who lived around 1000 b.c.e. It is known that David had a reputation as a skilled lyre player and composer, and was supposed to have organized the guilds of temple singers and musicians that would have performed the psalms. In addition to this evidence, Davidic authorship is often supported by lines in the psalms themselves. For example, the end of Psalm 72 states: “The prayers of David son of Jesse are ended.” However, some scholars believe these lines were added sometime after the original composition.

Experts now believe that the psalms were written by several authors over a long period extending from the time of David, through the Babylonian exile (587-539 b.c.e.), to the period of Persian domination (539-450 b.c.e.) when Israel enjoyed a time of religious and cultural revival. It is known that a collection of psalms were sung in the Second Temple of Jerusalem built under the Persians.

A Greek translation that corresponds to the Book of Psalms and to older Hebrew documents found among the Dead Sea Scrolls was made in Alexandria circa 130 b.c.e. for Jews living in Egypt. It seems probable that the Greek translators had problems with the Hebrew, much of which was completely obsolete by their time. This indicates to historians that a considerable time, probably measuring in centuries, had passed since the original collection had been put together.

The King James Version

In January of 1604, King James I proposed that a new English translation of the Bible be made. At that time, there were two English versions in widespread use which reflected the split in the English church. The Church of England used the Bishops Bible; the Puritan sect preferred what was known as the Geneva Bible. King James called for a Bible “consonant as can be to the original Hebrew and Greek … without any marginal notes.” Marginal notes in earlier English versions had been used less for biblical exegesis than for political and theological attacks on opponents. The king wanted a uniform version that would cut across denominational lines.

Fifty-four translators, both Anglican and Puritan, organized into six groups and took nearly five years to compete the work. The translation was never intended to be a completely original translation. The King James translators were instructed use the Bishops Bible as the basis for their work and to compare it with the Hebrew and Greek originals. However, they were allowed—even encouraged—to consult other works; for example, they looked at the Latin Vulgate version, earlier English translations, Martin Luther’s famous German translation, and translations into other European languages. They also consulted with other biblical scholars and translators.

In the course of their work, the King James translators read every verse of the bible aloud to better measure their rhythm and balance. The King James Bible was thus eminently suited to be preached aloud in church. It was published in 1611, and the king stipulated that it was to be read in every English church, a fact which contributed greatly to its quick popularity. One hundred and eighty–two editions were published by 1644; it eventually supplanted even the Puritan’s Geneva Bible.

The language of the King James Bible is conservative. The translators consciously favored older, even obsolete forms (for example, “Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies” in Psalm 23) over more modern forms that were already in common use in the 1600s. The archaic language gave the Bible an austerity, even at its time of publication. This was felt to be more appropriate than everyday speech for the Holy Scriptures.

However, the overall language of the Bible was kept relatively simple. It has a vocabulary of less than 8,000 words, which is less than half the total vocabulary in the works of William Shakespeare, considered the other great influence on modern English. Among the many expressions from the King James Bible that have passed into everyday use are “an eye for an eye,” “the skin of my teeth,” “the apple of his eye,” “a man after his own heart,” “out of the mouths of babes,” and “at their wits’ end.”

Critical Overview

The eighteenth-century critic J. G. Herder writes about the sudden transition in metaphor from God as shepherd to God as host. He speculates that Psalm 23 was composed while its author was in exile from Palestine, which explains the psalm’s emphasis on the idea of a secure resting place, the “house of the Lord.” It also explains the significance of the feast spread out in “the presence of mine enemies” and the urgent shift from the valley to the table. “The sudden transition from one image to another,” he writes, “is in the spirit of the Oriental ode. Yet but one feeling pervades the whole.” Psychoanalyst Erich Fromm contrasts the mood of Psalm 23 with that of some other psalms. Rather than boasting “that he is good, that God will reward him, and that the wicked shall perish,” writes Fromm, the psalmist conveys a quieter but perhaps more convincing resolve. “The elements of smugness, self-righteousness, and indignation are lacking,” Fromm writes, “and instead we find a mood of quiet confidence and inner peace.”

Criticism

Jhan Hochman

Jhan Hochman is a writer and instructor at Portland Community College in Portland, Oregon. In the following essay, Hochman examines the metaphorical language used in Psalm 23.

The word psalm is derived from a Greek word meaning a twitching, or to twitch or strum, especially the strings of a harp, lyre, or kithara. One of the Greek forms of the word also refers to a song sung to the accompaniment of the lyre, an early form of the guitar. In the context of the Old Testament psalms, of which Psalm 23 is a part, a psalm is not just any song sung to the accompaniment of a stringed instrument. It is a religious song—or better, a hymn. Psalms are most often spoken or chanted because their melodies have been lost to us.

The Old Testament Psalter, that is, the Book of Psalms, is comprised of 150 psalms divided into five parts in imitation of the Pentateuch, the first five books of the Old Testament (Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy). The psalms have been classified into the following kinds: hymns (acts of praise); laments (solicitations by individuals for deliverance from sickness or

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The Anatomy of Melancholy by Robert Burton is a famous early work of human psychology published in 1621.
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false accusations, or solicitations by a nation for help in times of crisis); songs of trust (expressions of confidence in God’s readiness to help); thanksgivings (gratitude for deliverance); sacred histories (recountings of God’s dealings with the nation); royal psalms (accompaniments for coronations and royal weddings); wisdom psalms (meditations on life and God); and liturgies (compositions for specific occasions). Psalm 23 is considered a song of trust as are Psalms 11, 16, 27, 62, 131. Psalm 23 is one of the best known of all the psalms, chanted in churches and synagogues throughout America, and even occasionally making an appearance in popular culture. For example, it was prominently featured in Quentin Tarantino’s film Pulp Fiction.

More than half of the psalms were thought to be composed by David, the second King of Israel who reigned from 1010 to his death in 970 B.C. The singer is none other than David, the boy who killed the giant Goliath with a slingshot. Before David became king he was a young shepherd, visited by Samuel and told that he had been chosen by God to be the next king of Israel. The interested student can find out more about David from Samuel 1 (16:1) and Samuel 2.

Psalm 23, composed by David, is meant to soothe the tortured soul and promote trust in God. The setting is peaceful pastureland, an area with which David, as a shepherd, was once familiar. David notices that like himself, God, too, is a “shepherd,” and that David, the shepherd, is himself led by God like a sheep or lamb.

In other psalms, we find a variety of metaphors for God. Psalm 62 is perhaps the most fertile. First, God is a rock—rocks appear to last forever without changing, are often immovable, and have a homogeneous oneness about them that other natural entities lack. It is no surprise then that the next metaphor in Psalm 62 is God, the fortress; as a fortress protects from one’s enemies, so, hopefully, will God. Notice that in Psalm 23, a fortress would have been more comparable to God’s house (the temple) or the shepherd’s pasture than to God Himself. In other words, the metaphorical leap is larger, and arguably more provocative in Psalm 62 than in Psalm 23.

The next metaphor in Psalm 62 is God as a refuge, a place of safety from one’s enemies. In other psalms, God is light (27), a cup (16), and a mother (131). Perhaps it is not difficult then to understand how God is so conducive to a broad panorama of metaphors since a common comment about God—itself a metaphor—is “God is all.”

In another metaphor, God’s “lambs” are people. This is the predominant metaphor of the psalm, or more precisely, of the first two stanzas; people are lambs, God is the shepherd. Because a metaphor is a comparison between unlike things, or a yoking together of what is different, metaphors have both strengths and weaknesses. Psalm 23 is no exception.

Let us begin with the strengths of the metaphor. As a shepherd protects his flock from wolves or other predators, God is said to protect people—some or all depending upon your religious belief—from harm. In terms of sheep, “green pastures” and “still waters” (an alternative translation from the Hebrew is “waters of rest”) are settings of peace and plenty, places where sheep can drink, eat, and lie down without fear, provided the shepherd is there to guard them. And even when the shepherd leads his flocks to or from the pastures through dangerous territories (“the valley of the shadow of death,” alternatively translated as “the valley of deep darkness”), he watches over them, rod ready at hand to scare off or strike at predators.

But among these analogies, David—or far more likely, the translator—moves beyond the metaphor by personifying sheep instead of “sheepifying” people. For instance, it is said that God will restore the soul. Sheep seldom are thought to have souls. The Hebrew word, however, could have more accurately been translated as “lives” which would have still maintained the analogy in David’s metaphor. In a second example, there are the “paths of righteousness.” Sheep are seldom thought to be concerned about issues of morality, religious right and wrong. Again, however, the Hebrew is more accurately translated as “right paths,” which is in keeping with David’s noticing that both sheep and people walk on paths through pastures, valleys, or forests.

The psalm’s central weakness, more attributable to David than the translator, is that the psalm can be read in a different way. Shepherds guard sheep only from other predators. When the sheep have been readied or the shepherd is ready, sheep are shorn for their wool and later killed for food. In this way shepherds are more like prison guards in charge of a prisoner readied for execution. The guards look out for the prisoner; they feed him, talk to him, make sure he does not get killed by other prisoners. If the metaphor is read in this way, a way David surely did not mean, the psalm turns sinister and contradictory.

The metaphor of the lamb as a victim of the Shepherd (God) is pertinent when Christ is called the “Lamb of God”; according to God’s plan, he is slaughtered like a scapegoat for the sake of all people. And as lambs are eaten by people, so is Christ also “eaten” in Mass as the host, or wafer, for the purpose of sustaining those who partake.

David as a killer of lambs becomes a more feasible perception when we learn from Samuel 1 that David left his sheep shortly before killing Goliath, telling King Saul that he was able to fight the far more experienced and larger warrior because he previously killed lions and bears who had threatened his sheep. Not only did David fell Goliath with a stone, but David stabbed him with a sword and then cut his head off. Later, he killed 200 Philistines and, in a rather curious method of scalping, brought home the Philistinian foreskins to King Saul, which enabled David to marry King Saul’s daughter. Perhaps in this light, the role of the shepherd as killer of sheep and their predators is not, after all, so distant from that of the warrior, especially since the shepherd often castrates his sheep like David mutilated the genitals of his slain foes.

In the third stanza of Psalm 23, the metaphor of sheep and shepherd is abandoned. David now imagines himself a “kind of guest in “the house of the Lord”—that is, the Jewish synagogue or temple, sitting at a table with God as the generous host. God consecrates, or makes sacred, his follower with a cleansing oil and fills David’s cup until it overflows, the overflowing cup as a symbol of life’s bounties. As long as people worship in the temple, David seems to say, they will have good lives.

The third stanza’s central metaphor, temple as pasture, implies that for David the “house of the Lord” is protected and bountiful due to God’s generous hospitality, much like pastures are protected and bountiful for sheep because of shepherds. Here, we might notice that as pasturing sheep are threatened by “evil” in “the valley of the shadow of death,” the worshipper in the synagogue is threatened by “enemies” ready to slander or assault the righteous dining “in the house of the Lord.” Some readers have confused the “house of the Lord” with heaven, primarily because of the last words in the line “I shall dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.” But the translation, “for ever” can be replaced by the alternative, “as long as I live.” Such a translation lends clarity to the locale of the temple. The temple protects the person who worships there and follows the path created by God.

In summary, then, David’s metaphorical language expresses these concepts: pasture as temple of Israel, sheep are like worshippers, shepherd equals God. Only by trusting in the Lord within the temple, David implies, are worshippers able to escape one’s enemies.

Source: Jhan Hochman, in an essay for Poetry for Students, Gale, 1998.

Gene Rice

In the following essay, Rice elaborates on the metaphors and imagery used in Psalm 23.

In times of anxiety, danger, or sorrow, Psalm 23, as few other passages of Scripture, mothers the human heart. Although Psalm 23 is one of the most familiar texts of the Bible, there is a perennial freshness about it. Deep wells of meaning are opened by the metaphors of shepherd and sheep, of host and guest, and they speak to one at whatever one’s level of sophistication.

The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want (v. 1; RSV).

For a people with arable land, fenced fields, and an urban, industrial way of life, the metaphor of shepherd may not resonate with its full measure of meaning. Even if one knows something about sheep and the care of them, the grazing land of Palestine is quite unlike that of contemporary America. For the most part, the pastures of Palestine consist of trackless, arid hillocks and jagged ravines, rained upon only for a few months out of the year and beaten upon relentlessly by the sun during the summer. But the harshness of the landscape is occasionally relieved by “hollows as gentle and lovely as those ravines are terrible, where water bubbles up and runs gently between grassy banks through the open shade of trees” [according to George Adam Smith in his Four Psalms, 1896]. It is in such a setting as this that we are to visualize the shepherd at work in Psalm 23.

The demands on the shepherd are eloquently described by Jacob in his defense of himself to Laban. “It was like this with me: by day the heat consumed me, and the cold by night, and my sheep fled from my eyes” (Gen. 31:38–40). God’s promise to the exiles in Babylon to be a shepherd to them calls attention to the many tasks of the shepherd. “I will make them lie down, says the Lord GOD. I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the injured, and I will strengthen the weak” (Ezek, 34:15; cf. Luke 15:3–6). And the tenderness of the shepherd is touchingly pictured in the Isaianic picture of the return from exile, when God will “gather the lambs in his arms, … carry them in his bosom, and gently lead those that are with young” (Isa. 40:11).

The metaphor of shepherd thus reverberates with tones of selfless devotion, alertness, concern, tenderness, and security. Not surprisingly, it is a favorite image in the biblical world and is applied to judges, kings, prophets, and especially God.

The metaphor of sheep is likewise used to express Israel’s relation to her leaders and to God. Without her king, Israel was like sheep without a shepherd. Israel was God’s flock and the sheep of God’s pasture. Normally, God as shepherd was thought of in relation to Israel as a flock. It is a rare and bold act when the psalmist claims the LORD as personal shepherd (elsewhere only by Jacob in Gen. 48:15). By doing so, the psalmist gives the metaphor its greatest intimacy and depth.

When the psalmist claims God as shepherd, the psalmist implicitly likens himself or herself to a sheep—not a very flattering comparison. One of the most vulnerable of animals, a sheep is helpless without leadership, guidance, care, and protection. And sheep are prone to get lost, injure themselves, and blindly follow the impulses of the flock. By this comparison, the psalmist acknowledges inadequacy, dependence, and need for a Shepherd; thus the psalmist becomes like a little child (Mark 10:15).

The psalmist completes the initial confession of faith with the affirmation, “I shall not want,” lo’ ’eshsar, a verbal phrase without an object. The lack of an object opens this affirmation to the widest possible meaning. Material well-being is certainly embraced within this statement but is by no means its sole content. The psalmist’s religion embraces the totality of life, both spiritual and material.

Content is given to the psalmist’s opening confession in the following description of the shepherd’s feeding, guiding, and protecting the sheep. First the image of feeding.

He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads
me beside still waters; he restores my soul.

Skillfully wending his way through endless tracts of scrubby, tough, dried-up herbage, the shepherd guides the sheep to those special places, known only to himself, where the grass is fresh, tender, and succulent. There the shepherd lets the sheep graze leisurely so that they may relish their food. “After the sheep have eaten their fill, he does not immediately lead them to drink; otherwise, some of them might bloat to death” [according to Samuel Terrien in The Psalms and Their Meaning for Today]. Avoiding those places where the stream is rapid and dangerous, the shepherd seeks out a place where the water is calm and restful so that the sheep may safely slake their thirst, rest, and be renewed.

This is a strikingly “materialistic” picture. There is unconcealed delight in food, rest, and renewal, unmarred by consciousness of a distinction between sacred and secular. It should be noted, however, that what the sheep delights in are the basic and simple things of life. While the sheep are free of want and relish those things that satisfy their basic needs, their life is not one of luxury and indulgence, nor is their life a sated seeking after pleasure for its own sake.

The meaning of this imagery is transparent. The psalmist is alluding to the task of earning a livelihood and to the simple, everyday activities of life. As the sheep travel far and endure the hardships of the journey, so the psalmist most likely works hard to supply the material needs of life. Yet the psalmist knows zest, joy, and serenity in earning a livelihood because even in this area of life God is shepherd. Living in trustful surrender to God, the psalmist is not anxious about life, about what to eat or drink or wear (Matt. 6:25). The psalmist is not one with tension headaches or high blood pressure, nor one feverishly caught up in the lust for things or in need of mood-altering drugs. The psalmist’s faith has permeated everyday events and work and has made of them a sacrament.

The psalmist next pictures the guidance of the shepherd.

He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s
sake.

Because the choice nooks of pasture and of safe watering places are few and far between, the shepherd and his sheep need to be constantly on the move. The shepherd guides his sheep so that at the end of the day they arrive at a suitable lodging place for the night. In the open pasture land of Palestine is a bewildering maze of paths. But God, the shepherd, knows the right paths, the paths that lead to the desired goal and that fulfill the purpose of the journey. Such guidance is part of the responsibility of a shepherd. The shepherd’s name (i.e., character and reputation) are at stake. And as a Near Eastern shepherd, God leads rather than drives the sheep.

As paths that lead to the desired goal are important in the pasture land of Palestine, so are paths in life. Just as a sheep is inadequate to make its way in a trackless pastureland, so the psalmist affirms that we are not able to make our way in life on our own. The psalmist knows that some paths seem right, but their end is death (Prov: 14:12). The psalmist also knows that although life is like the pastureland of Palestine, there is One whose very nature it is to lead a person in paths of righteousness, paths that give meaning and purpose to life, paths that lead to the fulfillment of a person’s God-appointed destiny. Even with the best guidance, however, life is not free of anxiety and danger.

“The metaphors of shepherd and sheep perfectly capture the trustful submission and the care, provision, guidance, and protection that flow from this relationship.”

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow
of death, I fear no evil; for thou art with me; thy rod
and thy staff, they comfort me.

The words of the psalmist suggest a time in the late afternoon when the sun is about to set and the valleys are slowly filling up with shadows. This gloom provides a hiding place for beasts of prey and robbers. It is a place where death is a real possibility. (Tzalmaweth means literally “darkest valley.”…) If they are to reach the desired lodging place for the night, the shepherd and the sheep will have times when there is no choice but to go through such a valley. But even in that situation the sheep proceed with confidence because their shepherd is with them, going ahead, picking out a secure path, and staying ready with a rod to ward off preying animals or robbers and with a staff to give the shepherd sure footing and to keep the sheep in good order.

Again, the landscape of Palestine serves as a counterpart of life. The deep, dark gorge is as much a part of the scene as the trackless pastureland, the glens of green grass, and the still waters. Life, too, has its anxieties and dangers, and sometimes one cannot escape them. The psalmist’s life has not been all serenity and repose. That a real experience underlies the imagery of the valley of the shadow of death is suggested by the unconscious turning from the third to the second person: “For thou art with me.” A life-threatening experience may have been the occasion that inspired this psalm. In any case, it is because of the experience of God’s presence in the midst of anxiety and danger that the psalmist can speak with such assurance. Trust in God does not exempt one from the valley of the shadow of death. But when God is with us—and this is “the salvation word par excellence of Scripture” [According to Patrick D. Miller Jr., in Interpreting the Psalms]—even this valley can be traversed victoriously.

With the scene of the sheep negotiating the dark, dangerous valley at the end of the day under the watchful and protective care of the shepherd, the psalmist concludes the use of the metaphors of shepherd and sheep. In the series of scenes illustrating the shepherd’s care of the sheep, the psalmist encompasses experience in the world and shows how life has been illumined and blessed because of this special relationship to God. The metaphors of shepherd and sheep perfectly capture the trustful submission and the care, provision, guidance, and protection that flow from this relationship. Turning next to the experience of worship at the house of the LORD, the temple, the psalmist describes what happens there and uses the metaphors of host and guest.

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of my enemies; thou anointest my head with oil, my cup overflows.

This verse transports one into a completely different setting and atmosphere. The psalmist is now present at the temple and is made to feel like a welcomed and honored guest of the LORD.

Shepherd is a powerful metaphor and tends to dominate the interpretation of Psalm 23, but the metaphor of host is not without its own richness of meaning. The Near Eastern host is unrivaled for cordiality, graciousness, generosity, and attentiveness. These qualities are vividly illustrated by Abraham’s treatment of the three (divine) travelers who visit him at Hebron in Genesis 18. The venerable patriarch is so pleased that the three strangers have turned aside to his tent that he runs to meet them, bows to the ground, and entreats them to honor him with their presence. Assuming that they are hot, tired, and thirsty, he urges them to stop and rest in the shade of the trees so that they may have their feet bathed and eat a “morsel.” Pleased and excited by their acceptance, Abraham hastens into the tent and urges Sarah to quickly prepare generous portions of bread from the finest meal. Then he runs to the herd, chooses a calf “tender and good,” and has his servant, who catches Abraham’s excitement, hasten to prepare it. As his guests eat, Abraham hovers by them, attentive to their every need.

As the metaphor of shepherd is paired with that of sheep, so the metaphor of host is paired with that of guest. As anyone who has known genuine hospitality can testify, such an experience is a high moment in human relationships. The metaphors of host and guest have a dimension of depth and intimacy that is not true of the metaphors of shepherd and sheep. A sheep may delight in the security of being provided for, guided, and protected by its shepherd, but a guest may enjoy full rapport with his or her host. Thus the metaphors of host and guest complement and add a significant dimension to the metaphors of shepherd and sheep. As the guests of Abraham were made welcome, accepted, and honored, so is the psalmist in the experience of worship at the temple. Is it not the experience of being God’s guest at the temple that is the basis of the psalmist’s knowing God as shepherd in the world?

As a guest of the LORD, the psalmist participates in a communion sacrifice in which part of an animal is offered to God and the rest is eaten in a festive meal by the psalmist with family and friends. Such a meal was a joyful, sacramental occasion in which one renewed one’s bond with God and one’s fellow worshipers (cf. Ps. 22:26). Since the meal was eaten in the temple precincts and those participating were the LORD’s guests, it was appropriate to refer to the LORD as preparing a table for the psalmist.

The quality of the LORD’s reception of the psalmist is illustrated by the reference to the anointing of the head with oil and the filling of the cup of wine to overflowing. The anointing with oil tangibly expresses the acceptance, the cordiality, and the care with which the psalmist is received in God’s house. The overflowing cup of wine symbolizes the blessing and exhilaration of communion with God and fellow worshipers. The psalmist has drunk from the rivers of God’s delights (Ps. 36:8); the psalmist’s soul is feasted as with marrow and fat (Ps. 63:5).

As a guest of the LORD, the psalmist also enjoys the protection of the host and, in the LORD’s presence, feels secure from enemies. The enemies are not identified nor is there any indication of why the psalmist regards them as such. Are the enemies persons who have accused the psalmist of some offense that required trial by a religious tribunal, and is the psalmist giving thanks for having been vindicated? Or are the enemies hostile, foreign troops stationed in Palestine? Or are the enemies godless members of the psalmist’s own society who scoff at and oppose the psalmist? Is there a connection between the enemies and the psalmist’s experience of going through the valley of the shadow of death?

The reference to the psalmist’s enemies is too general and brief for us to be able to identify them and to know the cause of their enmity. Still, the reference is a reminder that the life of the psalmist is not sheltered and idyllic, removed from hostility and threat. And it is significant that the psalmist does not curse the enemies or ask God to destroy them, as some psalmists do. Whoever the enemies are and whatever the reason for their enmity, they are no longer a threat to the psalmist who, because of God’s presence, is secure and triumphant.

Still aglow with the companionship and hospitality of the host at the temple, the psalmist’s thoughts turn to the time of leaving this blessed place.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever.

As the psalmist anticipates leaving the temple, it is with the certainty that one is not abandoned upon leaving the holy place. While God’s presence and companionship are known in a special way at the temple, they are by no means confined to it. The psalmist knows that God’s presence, personified as goodness and mercy, follows (literally, “pursues” translated from radap) one in the world. And this pursuit is not momentary, but all the days of one’s life. Goodness (tob) and mercy (hesed, elsewhere translated “steadfast love”) are basic attributes of God that evoke thanksgiving and praise. Goodness is the gracious, compassionate benevolence of God demonstrated in creation and in deliverance from oppression and want. Mercy is the commitment that maintains the integrity of a relationship. The pairing of mercy with goodness expresses God’s determination to see that goodness prevails.

The traditional translation, “and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD,” follows Syriac, Targum, and Vulgate (weyāšabtî). The Septuagint and Symmachus translate, “And my dwelling shall be in the house of the LORD” (wešibtî). But the Hebrew (MT) reads, “and I shall return to the house of the LORD” (wešabtî). The word translated “forever,” le’ōrek yāmîm, means literally, “for length of days” (i.e., a very long time, note the parallel with “all the days of my life” and cf. NRSV, “my whole life long”). Because of the reference to being pursued by goodness and mercy, it seems clear that the psalmist contemplates returning to the world. And from the psalmist’s description of life in the world in verses 1–4, it does not appear that the psalmist wishes to retreat from the world. Probably the intention of the psalmist is best represented by the Hebrew text (MT) and its sense is best expressed by the translation, [by Bernard W. Anderson in Out of the Depths: The Psalms Speak for Us Today,] “And I shall be a guest in Yahweh’s house as long as I live.” Yet the traditional translation is true to the inherent depths of the passage and should be retained, for it is clear that the psalmist is sure that the communion experienced as God’s guest will not be broken (cf. Rom. 8:39).

Great literature has such depth and breadth that it may reveal its total meaning only over a period of time or that it may assimilate new meaning. The change from return of the Hebrew (Masoretic) text to dwell by the Greek, Syriac, Targum, and Vulgate shows that the deeper implications of the text were felt within Judaism. And because Jesus identified himself as the good shepherd and laid down his life for his sheep (John 10:1–18; cf. 1 Pet. 2:25; 5:4), the words of Psalm 23 have been filled with new meaning for the Christian. Jesus, for the Christian, is the shepherd who “restores our souls, leads us in paths of righteousness, accompanies us through danger, spreads the holy supper before us in the presence of sin and death, and pursues us in his gracious love all the days of our lives” [remarks James L. Mays in Psalms 1994]. And the comfort this psalm gives at funerals attests the fuller meaning given to dwelling in the house of the LORD by Jesus’ victory over death and preparation of a place for his followers (John 14: 1–3). “The Lord has touched it with his finger, and enlarged its horizons” [according to J.R.P. Schlater in an article in The Interpreter’s Bible].

The word faith is not found in Psalm 23, but here is one of the finest expressions of the reality of faith in the Bible. The metaphor of sheep eloquently captures the trustful dependence of the life of faith, and the metaphor of guest vividly pictures the joyous fellowship of the faith relationship. Both metaphors emphasize that faith is a living relationship to a person who is like a shepherd and a host. Together, the metaphors of sheep and guest define faith in its full range of meaning and consequences. The psalm has a hymn-like quality, celebrating the goodness of life lived in trustful companionship with God. By contrast, the psalm exposes the poverty of the Godless person. The psalm is a testimony that knowing God as shepherd and host brings freshness and zest to routine activities, direction and meaning to the competing pressures and demands on life, confidence and courage in the face of danger, triumph and fullness in spite of adversity, and assurance of victory over death and uninterruped communion with God.

Source: Gene Rice, “An Exposition of Psalm 23,” in The Journal of Religious Thought, Vol. 52, No. 1, Summer/Fall 1995, pp. 71–78.

Sources

Fromm, Erich, “The Psalms,” in You Shall Be As Gods: A Radical Interpretation of the Old Testament and Its Traditions, Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1966, pp. 201-24.

Herder, J. G., The Spirit of Hebrew Poetry, translated by James Marsh and Edward Smith, 1833, pp. 222-46.

Lundblom, Jack R., “Psalm 23: Song of Passage,” in Interpretation, Vol. XL, No. 1, January, 1986.

Tappy, Ron, “Psalm 23: Symbolism and Structure,” in The Catholic Bible Quarterly, Vol. 57, No. 2, April, 1995.