Dr. Roger W. Thomas, Preaching Minister
First Christian Church, Vandalia, MO
The Valley
Psalm 23
This passage is unquestionably one of the most favorite sections of the entire Bible. For one-reason: it speaks to the heart. It’s marvelous poetic word pictures connect with us where we live, and hurt, whether we know anything about sheep and shepherds or not.
Henry Ward Beecher, famous American preacher of another generation, said of this passage, “This psalm has flown like a bird up and down the earth, singing the sweetest song ever heard. It has charmed more griefs to rest than all the philosophers of the world. It will go on singing to your children, and to my children, and to their children till the end of time. And when its work is done, it will fly back to the bosom of God, fold its wings and sing on forever in the happy chorus of those it had helped to bring there.”
Of all the striking images in the Psalm, one is stands out. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death . . .”
I am a flat-lander by birth and upbringing. I know very little about mountains and valleys except from a few trips through the Rockies and the Great Smokies. That limited experienced has taught me a few lessons that may be in the back of this phrase.
The decent into a valley can be pretty scary. I remember driving up Mt. Evans west of Denver several years. I thought the trip up was bad, but down was worse. I rode the breaks the entire descent. Not the best thing to do. I felt out of control.
That what times like this often feel like. I am sure the last few days have rushed by. It has all been a dizzying blur. It feels like everything is out of control. Valleys are like that.
But one of the big problems about a valley for a flat-lander is the limited vision. In the valley, you can’t see much. I grew on the prairie where you could see for miles on a clear day. In the valley, the mountains surround you. Your vision is limited at best. Of course, the valley is also the place where the fog collects first. The deeper the valley, the denser the fog. And then there are the shadows. The sun rises late and sets early on the valley floor.
This is the valley of the shadow of death. On the valley floor the shadows are deep and the light limited. Two weeks ago you could imagine lots of things that will never happen now. The shadow has quickly fallen across the future you thought would be there. Right now, on the valley floor its hard to see, to imagine, what the future will be like. Valleys are like that, especially the valley of the shadow of death.
There is a another fact. The climb out of a valley can be hard work. The quick descent can be scary, but the trip back up is hard work and a lot slower. The next days and weeks will likely just as slow as the last few days have been fast. Grief and sorrow is natural. We all experience at times like this. Even when you know that the passing of your loved one is coming, you are still not prepared for it when it comes. Grief is hard. There is no way around that. It wears you down emotionally and physically.
There are a couple of unnecesssary burdens at times like this. Some may try to tell that there is something wrong with tears of grief. That only adds the weight of guilt to our sorrow. Of course that is nonsense. People of faith hurt just like everyone else when times like these come. Remember Jesus wept at the graveside of his friend Lazarus. Grief is normal and natural. Nothing about it is unfaithful.
We may also burden ourselves with the expectation that our grief is supposed to be just like somebody else’s. We are unique individuals. None of us feel or express our emotions, good or bad, just like anyone else. We must allow ourselves and others the freedom to labor through the hard work of grieving the way that is best for them. At the same time, we must always be there for one another, as friends, as family, as good neighbors.
It will take work and effort, time, and the help of friends and family to climb out of this valley, but you will climb out. Valleys can be deep and dark, but do they end. Ultimately, a valley is passage way to somewhere else. That is true of this valley.
For all of the negative things we can say about a mountain valley, there is another side. In the valley is where things grow. Mountains provide beautiful vistas and a sense of freedom, but that’s not where the tallest trees and the best fruit grows. The valley, even this one, can make you stronger and better. Valleys are like that.
If you are one who already knows of the grace God found in Jesus Christ, you know God will be faithful to you in times like this. He will comfort you. He will be faithful to you every step of the journey. He will grow your faith in this valley. That’s the good news—it is in the darkest of times that God does some of his great work in our lives. That’s good to know and remember.
If you are one who is still trying to find God and his purposes, if you are not yet sure if all this talk about Jesus Christ and his promises can be trusted or if they are for you or not, times in the valley provide good times to think and re-evaluate where you are and where your life is headed. Be assured of this, even if you don’t believe in Jesus Christ yet, he believes in you. He is loving and caring and providing and waiting for you. Right now, he is reaching out to you and waiting for you to reach back. That’s a promise!
There are a couple of other pieces of information in the text that we must not overlook. This is the valley of the SHADOW of death. Donald Barnhouse was the pastor of Philadelphia’s Tenth Presbyterian Church when his wife died and left him with young daughters to raise alone. He did something that I could never do: he conducted his own wife’s funeral. It was while driving to that funeral that he realized that he had to say something to explain all of this to his girls, to somehow put in perspective for them something with which he himself was already struggling.
They stopped at a traffic light while driving to the funeral. It was a bright day, and the sun was streaming into the car and warming it. A truck pulled up next to them, and the shadow that came with the truck darkened the inside of the car. It was then that he turned to his daughters and asked, "Would you rather be hit by the shadow or by the truck?"
One of them responded, "Oh, Daddy, that’s a silly question! The shadow can’t hurt you. I would rather be hit by the shadow than by a truck."
It was then that he tried to explain to them that their mother had died and that it was as if she had been hit by a shadow. It was as if Jesus had stepped in the way in her place, and it was he who had been hit by the truck. He quoted the familiar words of Psalm 23: "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me." (Leith Anderson, "Valley of Death’s Shadow," Preaching Today, Tape No. 131.)
For those who have put their trust in Jesus, death is real, but it is a shadow. It can scare us, but never truly hurt us. He is the giver of life, eternal life. That is the promise we cling to in the valley.
One final piece of this text. “I will fear no evil, for you are with me.” The Psalm is speaking of the Lord. He is with us—in the valley. He has not abandoned us though the shadows may make it hard to see that fact. God will walk you through the valley. You are not alone. That’s a guarantee.
Conclusion: The beginning for the 23rd Psalm is important. The Lord is MY shepherd. The comfort and strength of God in the valley of the shadow of death happens as we call upon the Lord and personally seek him as our guide and comfort. I pray that is your experience today.
***Dr. Roger W. Thomas is the preaching minister at First Christian Church, 205 W. Park St., Vandalia, MO 63382 and an adjunct professor of Bible and Preaching at Central Christian College of the Bible, 911 E. Urbandale, Moberly, MO. He is a graduate of Lincoln Christian College (BA) and Lincoln Christian Seminary (MA, MDiv), and Northern Baptist Theological Seminary (DMin).
