Good Shepherd Sunday

Psalm 23 (NRSV)
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me to 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
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.

Living in a place where you may encounter sheep grazing in the fields right next to your house or where a flock might be trotting down the street to be let into another field by their Bedu shepherd sure gives a new depth of meaning to this psalm.

Even with that new visual, I'm not sure I have a sermon in me today [I wrote this sermon last Sunday, but it's apropos for today as our lectionary calendar has us read this psalm this week]. I'm exhausted, on the edge and lacking resiliency. But, if I'm at this state after only 5 weeks in this area, can I even begin to fathom what life is like for people who have to live in this every day with no escape (or desire to leave the land that is home). As for me and my well-being, I would leave if I had the opportunity.

And, honestly, true confession time!, I avoid preaching on this text if I can. I don't really like it; it feels so overused that it has become trite in my ears.

But, here it is. God (and the creators of the lectionary cycle) have put it before me to hear, wrestle with, be spoken to and dwell deeply in the words, rhythms, images and grace that are this psalm. These particular phrases resonate deeply within me this time:
--I walk through the darkest valley, yet fear no evil
--[God] prepare[s] a table before me in the presence of my enemies.
--Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life

Early on in our time as a team in Bethlehem, we decided that we needed to be honest with each about the work we were engaging in and our limitations. We all 'fessed up at least one thing (that was expected of us as a team) that we did NOT want to do. Mine was "going to demonstrations". I've never liked demonstrations or protests. It may be in part because I don't want to be too public about my politics or ideas (says the preacher lady!). It may be because there's an element of danger in it (I like to be a rule follower and most of the time demonstrations are technically illegal, at least here in Palestine). And, I'm sure that a large part of this is that I don't want to be caught in any sort of cross-fire -- even if it's just words being thrown.

Whatever the reason, I don't like demonstrations.

But, they are a part of what we do each week. As a team, we are to participate in at least one demonstration each week (actually, that's now three. AHHHH!).

Talk about the darkest valley.

I've wondered sometimes if there is an entrenched cultural difference (made deeper in the past 43 years): if I'd lived under occupation for my whole life, would I be used to it? If I was raised under occupation and if there had always been less of my life that I had oversight for, would it be easier for me that the Israelis had tremendous control over me?

Then, there's the image of God preparing a table for me in the presence of my enemies. What?!?

My time here as radically shifted how I hear this portion of the text now: when one has enemies, real enemies, not just ones from petty griefs, who are wanting to destroy you (by bullets, policies, prisons, threats and/or prejudice), this image of God preparing a table for you in the presence of those enemies is incomprehensible.

It scares me.

It humbles me.

It even angers me. I do not want to eat with my enemies.

But, surely, God's mercy and goodness are with me all the days of my life. God's mercy invites me to the table to sit with and break bread with my enemies, to look beyond their bullets, policies, prisons, threats and prejudice. God's goodness brings light and hope into those darkest valleys of fear, even the fear that rises in me when I consider the danger that may come from standing in solidarity with someone.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life. For you, O Lord, have walked in the darkest valleys and have eaten with those who are your bitterest enemies. And, through it all, you are compassion, goodness and mercy for all who need it.

Amen