God is My Shepherd

*** Revised Common Lectionary *** Lectionary Reading: Psalm 23 CLASSIC POEM: Psalm 23 Richard Crashaw Happy me! O happy sheep! Whom my God, even he it is, That points me to these ways of bliss; On whose pastures cheerful spring, All the year doth sit and sing, And rejoicing smiles to see Their green backs were his livery: Pleasure sings my soul to rest, Plenty wears me at her breast, Whose sweet temper teaches me Nor wanton, nor in want to be. At my feet the blubbering mountain Weeping, melts into a fountain, Whose soft silver-sweating streams Make high noon forget his beams: When my wayward breath is flying, He calls home my soul from dying, Strokes and tames my rabid grief, And does woo me into life: When my simple weakness strays, (Tangled in forbidden ways) He (my Shepherd) is my guide, He’s before me, on my side, And behind me, he beguiles Craft in all her knotty wiles; He expounds the giddy wonder Of my weary steps, and under Spreads a path clear as the day, Where no churlish rub says nay To my joy-conducted feet, Whilst they gladly go to meet Grace and peace, to meet new lays Tuned to my great Shepherd’s praise. Come now all ye terrors, sally Muster forth into the valley, Where triumphant darkness hovers With a sable wing, that covers Brooking horror. Come thou Death, Let the damps of thy dull breath Overshadow even the shade, And make darkness self afraid; There my feet, even there shall find Way for a resolved mind. Still my Shepherd, still my God, Thou art with me, still thy rod, And thy staff, whose influence Gives direction, gives defense. At the whisper of thy Word Crowned abundance spreads my board: While I feast, my foes do feed Their rank malice not their need, So that with the self-same bread They are starved, and I am fed. How my head in ointment swims! How my cup o’erlooks her brims! So, even so still may I move By the line of thy dear love; Still may thy sweet mercy spread A shady arm above my head, About my paths, so shall I find The fair center of my mind Thy temple, and those lovely walls Bright ever with a beam that falls Fresh from the pure glance of thine eye, Lighting to Eternity. There I’ll dwell forever, there Will I find a purer air To feed my life with, there I’ll sup Balm and nectar in my cup, And there my ripe soul will I breathe Warm into the arms of Death. *** This poem is in the public domain, and may be read in a live-streamed worship service. CONTEMPORARY POEM: Psalm 23 (The Message) Eugene Peterson (This psalm is a familiar piece of poetry on its own, though it may be helpful to read it in a less-familiar translation.) 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. The Message (MSG) Copyright © 1993, 2002, 2018 by Eugene H. Peterson *** For another less familiar translation of this psalm, try Robert Alter’s work. <<<<<< PREV. POEM | NEXT POEM >>>>>>