The Writings · Psalms
Psalm 23: The Lord, My Shepherd
Written by a man who had actually done the job
This is one of the best-known texts in the Bible. It is quoted at funerals, printed on remembrance cards, and half-known by people who could not tell you where it is. That familiarity is the problem. It was written late in David’s life, looking back over the highs and the lows, and recognising that the Lord had been his Shepherd all along.
A psalm of David. The LORD is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will 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 your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.
Psalm 23:1–6 · New International Version
When it was written
Some suggest it comes from the worst week of David’s life — his son Absalom’s takeover of Jerusalem, and David fleeing the city on foot (II Samuel 15–17). It is a reasonable guess: the psalm has a table set in the presence of enemies, and that week he had plenty.
I am more inclined toward the idea that it was written late in his life, looking back over the whole journey. Read it that way and “all the days of my life” is not a hope. It is a report.
What a shepherd actually was
Almost nobody reading this has been a shepherd or even met one, so some background will help — especially since David was one, and the psalm is clearly informed by the job rather than by a pleasant idea of it.
David’s early years were spent keeping his family’s flock. Normally that meant living with the sheep, because sheep are prey animals and need guarding day and night. Not most of the day. All of it.
The Lord, our Shepherd, guards us the same way — and another psalm says so directly:
Indeed, the Guardian of Israel never rests or sleeps.
Psalm 121:4 · God’s Word
A shepherd was the guard. And a good shepherd led — which in David’s case meant taking on a lion and a bear, and killing them both. That was on his résumé, and he produced it when he was trying to convince King Saul he could handle Goliath:
Whenever a lion or a bear came and carried off a sheep from the flock, I went after it, struck it, and rescued the sheep from its mouth. If it attacked me, I took hold of its mane, struck it, and killed it… The LORD, who saved me from the lion and the bear, will save me from this Philistine.
I Samuel 17:34–37 · God’s Word
Keep that picture in view for the rest of the psalm. When David says the Lord is his shepherd, he is not picturing someone standing decoratively in a field. He is picturing someone who goes into the dark after one animal and comes back carrying it.
“I lack nothing”
The shepherd is responsible to provide for the sheep — so much so that David can say, with God as his shepherd, I lack nothing.
The deeper idea is not that I get everything I want. It is that I have everything I need to fulfil my purpose. Which is exactly the promise Jesus made:
But first, be concerned about his kingdom and what has his approval. Then all these things will be provided for you.
Matthew 6:33 · God’s Word
Lying down, and still water
He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters.
What you need to know about sheep is that they will not lie down unless they feel safe, and they will not drink from moving water. David is saying that the Lord takes him to a place safe enough to lie down in, and to water still enough to drink from.
And by doing that, he refreshes my soul — the King James says he restores my soul.
The word restore deserves a moment. You cannot restore what has not been depleted. The verse assumes the depletion. It is not describing a man who is fine; it is describing what happens to a man who is not fine. When I am empty, my Shepherd leads me somewhere safe enough to stop, and I am refilled.
The right paths — and whose name is on them
He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake. The King James: he leads me in the paths of righteousness, for his name’s sake.
He leads me down the path that arrives at what He made me for. But look at the reason given. Not so that I will feel better. For His name’s sake. It is for His purposes, and that is a bigger thing to be caught up in than a good mood.
How much bigger? Here is a passage that should stop you where you stand:
He did this so that now, through the church, he could let the rulers and authorities in heaven know his infinite wisdom. This was God’s plan for all of history which he carried out through Christ Jesus our Lord.
Ephesians 3:10–11 · God’s Word
You and I, the Body of Christ, are what God is using to display His wisdom — and not only to the people around us. To the rulers and authorities in heaven. And that was not a contingency plan. It was His plan for all of history.
Let that sit for a moment before you read on. The path you are being led along is load-bearing.
The valley, and it is when
Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me. The King James has the valley of the shadow of death. God’s Word has the dark valley of death.
Notice that it does not say if. Every one of us will walk through the darkest valley at one time or another.
And it is not primarily about dying. Dying may be a dark valley — though it can also be something else entirely. David says so himself, in another psalm:
Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his faithful ones.
Psalm 116:15 · God’s Word
The valley in this psalm is the dark stretch we are all certain to face. And the answer given is not an explanation. It is a presence: for you are with me. Watch the pronoun, too — up to this point David has been talking about God. Here he turns and talks to Him, and he does it in the valley.
The rod and the staff
Two tools, two jobs. The rod was the shepherd’s weapon — what he used when the flock was under attack. The staff was for direction, and sometimes for correction; the crook let him take hold of a sheep and turn it around.
Comfort, in this verse, is not a soft thing. It is a club and a hook.
And the promise about walking in darkness gets picked up centuries later by a prophet, about someone else:
The people who walk in darkness will see a bright light. The light will shine on those who live in the land of death’s shadow.
Isaiah 9:2 · God’s Word
A table, with the enemy still in the room
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.
Notice what God does not do. He does not wait for the threat to end. In their presence — while they watch — He sits me down to a meal. God’s Word makes the awkwardness of it explicit: “You prepare a banquet for me while my enemies watch.”
We will not always be delivered out of our troubles. Sometimes, right in the middle of the situation, we are invited to His table. That is a harder promise than rescue, and a better one.
Oil on the head
You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
In that world, when a guest arrived at a home — particularly an honoured guest — the host anointed his head with fragrant oil, olive oil mixed with perfume. It was welcome, respect, refreshment, celebration. The ancient equivalent of rolling out the red carpet and giving someone the seat of honour at the banquet.
And in that setting, my cup overflows. Again: more than enough. Enough to minister to somebody else out of.
Put the two halves of the verse together and hear what David is actually saying. “Even when my enemies surround me and want to destroy me, You treat me with honour, joy, healing and overflowing generosity. You refresh me, protect me, celebrate me, and make me feel like royalty — in Your presence, and in theirs.”
Please take the time to let that sink in.
“Follow” is far too gentle a word
Then David stops praying and makes a declaration: Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life.
The second of those two words is hesed — a covenant word, usually rendered lovingkindness, or steadfast love. It is the word God uses about Himself. When Moses asked to see God’s glory, God told him he could not see His face and live, but that He would pass by (Exodus 33:18–23). And as He passed, He announced Himself:
Yahweh, Yahweh God, compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in lovingkindness and truth.
Exodus 34:6 · Legacy Standard Bible
So it is God’s own hesed that David says will follow him all the days of his life.
And now the word “follow.” Malcolm Smith put it this way: this is not a Chihuahua nipping at your heels, but a Rottweiler that refuses to let go.
He is right, and the translators back him up. The Hebrew is radaph — the ordinary word for chase, pursue, hunt down. It is the word used of an army in pursuit. The Legacy Standard translates it exactly that way: “goodness and lovingkindness will pursue me all the days of my life.” God’s Word gets at the same thing from the other side: “goodness and mercy will stay close to me.”
Every other clause in this psalm has God out in front — leading, guiding, going ahead to set the table. This one has Him behind you, coming after you, and not stopping. There is no direction left uncovered.
Forever has already started
And I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.
Just as I insist the valley of the shadow of death is not first of all about dying — neither is living in the house of the Lord.
Forever does not begin when I die. It has already begun. I am invited to live in the house of the Lord starting yesterday.
Which brings the psalm back round to where it started. A shepherd guards his sheep day and night, in the same field, for the whole of their lives. Not at the end. Throughout.
Where to go from here
Read the text itself: Psalm 23 in God’s Word, then the same psalm in the Legacy Standard — and watch the last two verses. Four minutes, and worth it.
Read next: Understanding David — the son who was not in the lineup, and what it cost him. About eight minutes.