The Twenty-Third Psalm has been familiar to most of us since childhood. For many of us it is like an old friend. When life made us wonder if God was there for us, made us wonder if God cared, Psalm Twenty-Three put comforting arms around us and reassured us of a Loving God who commands, leads, restores, comforts, prepares, and anoints so that in darkness and in light, in life and in death, we may dwell with Him:
The Lord is my Shepherd.
I shall not want;
He makes me life down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters;
He restores my soul.
Even though I walk through the valley
of the shadow of death,
I fear no evil;
for You are with me,
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
You anoint my head with oil, my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life (Ps. 23:1-6).
That's good old, familiar-since-childhood Psalm Twenty-Three, speaking of "still waters" and "green pastures" and "goodness and mercy" following me all the days of my life.
As is so often the case in the Bible, words appear that can be translated more than one way. "Goodness" and "Mercy" are two good examples. The word "goodness" has many nuances in the Old Testament. It stands for all the benefits we receive as the result of God's loving, caring Presence in our lives. The word "mercy" often is translated "steadfast love." It also is the word for kindness, and the fidelity of God even when we're not faithful. "Goodness and mercy shall follow me," the Psalmist wrote. "Follow" - there's the word that really surprises. Goodness and mercy follow me. It can also be translated "pursue me," from the Hebrew. Goodness and mercy pursue me all the days of my life.
Here I am, plodding along through life and, oh yes, who is right there behind me? Oh, that"s "Goodness"...and "Mercy." They're following me - not just tagging along, but pursuing me.
In today;s Gospel, John tells us that some of Jesus' followers were having a hard time dealing with some of His teachings. He had said to them, "I am the Living Bread which came down from Heaven...He who eats this Bread will live forever" (Jn. 6:51,58). "This is a hard saying," many of the disciples were complaining, "who can listen to it?" (Jn. 6:60). John tells us that "after this, many of the disciples drew back and no longer went about with Him." Then Jesus said to the twelve Apostles, "Do you also wish to go away?" And Simon Peter answered Him, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life...You are the Holy one of God" (Jn. 6:67-69).
You may be struggling now with one of Jesus' teachings. Maybe it has to do with forgiveness or with turning the other cheek, or with humility. Maybe it has to do with money or with judging other people, or with hypocrisy. Someone has done you wrong - a terrible wrong. And Jesus says, "You must forgive." And you reply, "This is a hard saying. I can't deal with it. I'm checking out. I'm no longer going about with me." But then, to whom shall you go? Try as you may, there is no place to go! You can't ever escape. Just look over your shoulder and there He is -- the Good Shepherd following you, the Good Shepherd never giving up on you, "Goodness" and "Mercy" pursuing you!
The famous director of suspense films, Alfred Hitchcook, was raised in the Church, but he somehow became disenchanted with religion and withdrew from membership. Once, in Switzerland, he was driving through the countryside with a friend. As they passed a church, Hitchcook said to his friend, "Look! There is a frightening sight." His traveling companion was surprised to see nothing more alarming than a clergyman with a Bible in his hand standing before a group of children on the church lawn: a little outdoor Bible class. "Run, kids, run for you life," cried Hitchcook out the car window. "Run for you life!"
Ultimately, in God's time, we all are destined to discover than even in we try to run away from God as though our lives depended on it, Goodness and Mercy are still in hot pursuit, and there is no place to hide.
During a trip on a small airline, the stewardess asked a passenger if he would like dinner. "What are my choices," he asked. "Yes" or "No," the stewardess replied. When it comes to the question of whether or not to follow Jesus, you and I have the same choice: "Yes" or "No." When it comes to the question of whether or not to pursue us, God leaves Himself no choice. "Goodness" and "Mercy" never withdraw. They're always running for our lives, always in hot pursuit.
He was known as a mean old man. Resentful! Bitter! Someone said that his bitterness was justified. His beloved wife died giving birth to their one child. The child died shortly thereafter from complications. "He has reason to be bitter," they said in town.
Never went to church, never had anything to do with anyone. When in his late sixties, they carried him out of his apartment and over to the hospital to die, no one visited, no flowers were sent. He went there to die alone.
There was a nurse. Well, she wasn't actually a nurse yet, just a student nurse. She was in training, and because she was in training she didn't know everything that they teach you in school about the necessity of detachment, the need to distance oneself from one's patients. She befriended the old man. It had been so long since he had friends, he didn't know how to act with one. He told her, "Go away! Leave me alone!"
She would smile, try to coax him to eat his Jello. At night, she would tuck him in. "Don't need nobody to help me," he would growl.
Soon, he grew so weak he had not the strength to resist her kindness. Late at night, after her duties were done, she would pull up a chair and sit by his bed and sing to him as she held the old, gnarled hand. And he looked up at her in the dim lamp light and wondered if he saw the face of a little on whom he never got to see an an adult. And a tear formed in his eye and she kissed him goodnight. And for the first time in forty, maybe fifty years, he said, "God bless you."
And as she left the room, two others remained, breathless, whispering softly in the old man's ears the last word he heard before slipping away into the dark valley. The word was "Gotcha" - whispered in unison by Goodness and Mercy.
The Lord is my Shepherd.
I shall not want;
He makes me life down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters;
He restores my soul.
Even though I walk through the valley
of the shadow of death,
I fear no evil;
for You are with me,
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
You anoint my head with oil, my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life (Ps. 23:1-6).
That's good old, familiar-since-childhood Psalm Twenty-Three, speaking of "still waters" and "green pastures" and "goodness and mercy" following me all the days of my life.
As is so often the case in the Bible, words appear that can be translated more than one way. "Goodness" and "Mercy" are two good examples. The word "goodness" has many nuances in the Old Testament. It stands for all the benefits we receive as the result of God's loving, caring Presence in our lives. The word "mercy" often is translated "steadfast love." It also is the word for kindness, and the fidelity of God even when we're not faithful. "Goodness and mercy shall follow me," the Psalmist wrote. "Follow" - there's the word that really surprises. Goodness and mercy follow me. It can also be translated "pursue me," from the Hebrew. Goodness and mercy pursue me all the days of my life.
Here I am, plodding along through life and, oh yes, who is right there behind me? Oh, that"s "Goodness"...and "Mercy." They're following me - not just tagging along, but pursuing me.
In today;s Gospel, John tells us that some of Jesus' followers were having a hard time dealing with some of His teachings. He had said to them, "I am the Living Bread which came down from Heaven...He who eats this Bread will live forever" (Jn. 6:51,58). "This is a hard saying," many of the disciples were complaining, "who can listen to it?" (Jn. 6:60). John tells us that "after this, many of the disciples drew back and no longer went about with Him." Then Jesus said to the twelve Apostles, "Do you also wish to go away?" And Simon Peter answered Him, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life...You are the Holy one of God" (Jn. 6:67-69).
You may be struggling now with one of Jesus' teachings. Maybe it has to do with forgiveness or with turning the other cheek, or with humility. Maybe it has to do with money or with judging other people, or with hypocrisy. Someone has done you wrong - a terrible wrong. And Jesus says, "You must forgive." And you reply, "This is a hard saying. I can't deal with it. I'm checking out. I'm no longer going about with me." But then, to whom shall you go? Try as you may, there is no place to go! You can't ever escape. Just look over your shoulder and there He is -- the Good Shepherd following you, the Good Shepherd never giving up on you, "Goodness" and "Mercy" pursuing you!
The famous director of suspense films, Alfred Hitchcook, was raised in the Church, but he somehow became disenchanted with religion and withdrew from membership. Once, in Switzerland, he was driving through the countryside with a friend. As they passed a church, Hitchcook said to his friend, "Look! There is a frightening sight." His traveling companion was surprised to see nothing more alarming than a clergyman with a Bible in his hand standing before a group of children on the church lawn: a little outdoor Bible class. "Run, kids, run for you life," cried Hitchcook out the car window. "Run for you life!"
Ultimately, in God's time, we all are destined to discover than even in we try to run away from God as though our lives depended on it, Goodness and Mercy are still in hot pursuit, and there is no place to hide.
During a trip on a small airline, the stewardess asked a passenger if he would like dinner. "What are my choices," he asked. "Yes" or "No," the stewardess replied. When it comes to the question of whether or not to follow Jesus, you and I have the same choice: "Yes" or "No." When it comes to the question of whether or not to pursue us, God leaves Himself no choice. "Goodness" and "Mercy" never withdraw. They're always running for our lives, always in hot pursuit.
He was known as a mean old man. Resentful! Bitter! Someone said that his bitterness was justified. His beloved wife died giving birth to their one child. The child died shortly thereafter from complications. "He has reason to be bitter," they said in town.
Never went to church, never had anything to do with anyone. When in his late sixties, they carried him out of his apartment and over to the hospital to die, no one visited, no flowers were sent. He went there to die alone.
There was a nurse. Well, she wasn't actually a nurse yet, just a student nurse. She was in training, and because she was in training she didn't know everything that they teach you in school about the necessity of detachment, the need to distance oneself from one's patients. She befriended the old man. It had been so long since he had friends, he didn't know how to act with one. He told her, "Go away! Leave me alone!"
She would smile, try to coax him to eat his Jello. At night, she would tuck him in. "Don't need nobody to help me," he would growl.
Soon, he grew so weak he had not the strength to resist her kindness. Late at night, after her duties were done, she would pull up a chair and sit by his bed and sing to him as she held the old, gnarled hand. And he looked up at her in the dim lamp light and wondered if he saw the face of a little on whom he never got to see an an adult. And a tear formed in his eye and she kissed him goodnight. And for the first time in forty, maybe fifty years, he said, "God bless you."
And as she left the room, two others remained, breathless, whispering softly in the old man's ears the last word he heard before slipping away into the dark valley. The word was "Gotcha" - whispered in unison by Goodness and Mercy.
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