May 8, 2022 – Fourth Sunday of Easter

God, my shepherd! I don’t need a thing. You have bedded me down in lush meadows, you find me quiet pools to drink from. True to your word, you let me catch my breath and send me in the right direction.
Even when the way goes through Death Valley, I’m not afraid when you walk at my side. Your trusty shepherd’s crook makes me feel secure.
You serve me a six-course dinner right in front of my enemies. You revive my drooping head; my cup brims with blessing.
Your beauty and love chase after me every day of my life. I’m back home in the house of God for the rest of my life. (Psalm 23, The Message)

Psalm 23 is SO familiar, and yet I think it withholds its greatest surprises and secrets until we probe it deeply and really get into it. We think of Jesus the Good Shepherd as sweet and placid. But shepherds in general are not meek, gentle people. Often they hold switches, swatting at the obstinate and unruly sheep and hollering at them. In fact, I would guess that if you’ve heard a new puppy’s owner yell at it after finding his favorite slippers shredded, the language may be mild in comparison to that shepherd’s scolding of the sheep. Yes, the Lord is my shepherd.

Looking back at the psalm, we hear that we walk THROUGH the valley in verse four. We don’t walk down into the valley, but through it. If we look at the actual Hebrew words in the psalm, the very middle word is ‘immi’, which basically means “with”.

I wonder if you have heard of the brilliant work of Sam Wells, A Nazareth Manifesto: Being with God? It is an impassioned proposal for re-envisioning Christianity’s approach to social engagement away from working “for” the people to being “with” them. It questions the effectiveness of the current trend of intervention as a means of fixing the problems of people in distressed and disadvantaged circumstances. Instead, it argues that Jesus spent 90% of his life simply being among the people of Nazareth, sharing their hopes and struggles, and so Christians today should place a similar emphasis on being alongside people in need rather than hastening to impose solutions. Working WITH them, not FOR them. Doing things like gardening WITH them to plant and harvest food. Knitting WITH them to create blankets for warmth in the cold winter. Not cooking FOR the homeless in a soup kitchen, but cooking WITH them. Working with the poor means waiting for poor people themselves to define what their needs are, and to support them in the action they decide to take to change things. It involves entering into a relationship with poor people, and so surrendering some of one’s own autonomy and sense of power in being able to identify what needs to be done and take steps to make a difference. In this book, Sam tells us, “With is the most important theological word in the Bible.”

Some illustrations:

  • Jesus’ nickname, Emmanuel: “God is WITH us”
  • Jesus’ parting words: “I am with you always”

God is with us. God doesn’t shelter us from things or fix every thing that is broken. God is in the midst of us, with us. And so, for Sam Wells, and indeed for us, ministry isn’t fixing others, it’s simply being WITH them.

Being with them through their joys as new life is brought forth into the world. Being with them through the tough times when putting food on the table is difficult. Being with them when relationships sour and those whom they love don’t show them love back. Being with them through their losses as loved ones move on to heaven.

Finally, what is this table “in front of” or “in the presence of my enemies”? Is it a taunt, saying “Ha ha! I’m at the banquet and you aren’t!”? Or does it imply that we will indeed invite the enemy to the banquet and welcome them. If that’s the case, then the enemy is no longer an enemy, but a friend?

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. is quoted as having once said, “Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into a friend.” We hear Jesus tell us in Luke 14:12-14 (The Message): “The next time you put on a dinner, don’t just invite your friends and family and rich neighbors, the kind of people who will return the favor. Invite some people who never get invited out, the misfits from the wrong side of the tracks. You’ll be—and experience—a blessing. They won’t be able to return the favor, but the favor will be returned—oh, how it will be returned!—at the resurrection of God’s people.”

On this Mother’s Day, when so many of us may recall good times at our mother’s table, it is fitting that we remember Jesus’ table and his invitation to welcome those who are not always welcomed, who are forgotten. We anticipate the feast of heaven to come, not just for each of us, but for all of God’s creation. On that day, all of God’s creation will “hunger no more, and thirst no more … and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes” (Rev 7:16-17). Not because the hankering of hunger will be removed, but because there will always be plenty and good company for all.