“Silent witness: Shadow Valley”
Psalm 23:4
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus.
On the far eastern edge of California, just across the border from Las Vegas, smack in the middle of the Mojave Desert, Death Valley is one of the hottest places on earth. It’s a long, thin basin, 15 miles wide and 140 miles long, running from north to south. It’s highest point is called Telescope Peak, sitting at eleven thousand feet above sea level. It’s lowest point is Badwater Basin, at three hundred below sea level.
So why is it called, “Death Valley”? It’s not because a lot of people have died there, (though this past year, there were two!) The reason they call it “Death Valley” is because it’s hot there, really hot.
While evening temperatures will dip down to around 90 degrees Fahrenheit, daytime temps are not quite so balmy. For example, the hottest air temperature ever recorded there happened in July of 1913, at 134 degrees, the highest atmospheric temperature ever recorded on earth! And if you think that’s hot, it’s nothing compared to its hottest surface temperature. In July of 1972, at a place called, Furnace Creek, (how appropriate!), the ground was 201. (And in case you’re wondering, yes, that is plenty hot enough to fry an egg).
But not all valleys are such terrifying places to go. Think of Romsdalen Valley in Norway, whose walls, they say are a rock climber’s dream. Think of the Waipi’o Valley on the Big Island of Hawaii. It’s name means, “curved water.” And if you don’t mind drinking an occasional glass of wine, you could always pay a visit to Napa Valley in western California.
And as you can imagine, there are quite a lot of valleys in the Bible too. Think of the Jezreel Valley, also known as the Valley of Megiddo, or the Valley of Elah, where David once killed Goliath, or the Kidron Valley on the south-eastern edge of Jerusalem. It’s where Jesus walked on Maundy Thursday night.
But of all the valleys past or present or yet to come, the most famous and the most terrifying of all is the one found in the words of Psalm 23.
I’ll begin at verse 1: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me” (Psalm 23:1-4).
It’s easy to say that Psalm 23 is the best-known and best-loved psalm of all. Even though it’s only 118 words long, it reaches to the very depths of our being, and forms a rock-solid foundation on which our soul can rest in times of trouble.
In the words of Henry Ward Beecher, “The Twenty-third Psalm is the nightingale of the Psalms. And though it sings shyly out of obscurity, it’s filled the whole world with joy, greater than the heart can conceive. Blessed be the day on which the Psalm was born!” And he wrote, “It has charmed more griefs to rest than all the philosophy of the world. It has remanded to their dungeon more felon thoughts, more black doubts, more thieving sorrows, than there are sands on the seashore...And it will go on singing to your children and my children, and to their children through all generations of time.”
Whether you’re young or old or somewhere inbetween, no matter what your life-experience may be, Psalm 23 is there in its strength, comfort, and simplicity.
“The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.”
And just as soon as David said, “He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake,” he wrote: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me” (Psalm 23:4).
These words are at the halfway point of the psalm, and that’s important. So far, David has described how good life has been for the sheep. He’s talked about what a great Shepherd God is and how He’s supplied all his needs. He’s talked about how He helped him to find green pastures and still waters. He’s restored his failing health and guided him down safe paths.
But now in the fourth verse, there’s a change in pronoun. Before, it was always in the third person--”The Lord, He is my Shepherd...He makes me to lie down...He leads me beside still waters, He restores my soul.”
But now in the fourth verse, it’s no longer in the third person, “He.” Now, it’s in the second person, “You.” “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me. Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.”
It’s as if the sheep is no longer boasting to the other sheep across the fence. Now he turns and speaks with God Himself.
Even more, there’s a dramatic shift in tone. No longer does the sheep rest in green pastures or beside still waters. Now there are dark valleys, terrifying valleys, and the sheep can’t help but be afraid.
But that’s the way it had to be, for in the winter, the sheep spent all their time in the safety of the ranch. But in spring, just as soon as the weather began to warm, the shepherd would lead his flock high up the mountain. And the only way to get there was to walk through the valley. So with a rod in his belt and a staff in his hand, he led them up to the deep, green grass of the hillsides.
It’s a beautiful picture, really--a shepherd with his sheep. And that’s the way it would be for weeks and even months to come.
But finding that fresh new grass wasn’t easy. The trip was long and the path was dangerous. In the words of Philip Keller, “How well the shepherd knew that predators like coyotes, bears, wolves, or cougars could take cover in broken cliffs and prey on his flock. And that’s nothing to say of storms and flash floods that send walls of water rampaging down the slopes...or a dozen other natural disasters that would destroy or injure his sheep.”
Just as sheep have their deep, dark, terrifying valleys, so do we. In fact, you might be going through the valley of the shadow right now. It might be the valley of the shadow of debt, or the shadow of conflict, or the shadow of depression, or the shadow of discouragement. Sometimes shadows come from an illness that robs us of all of our strength, and no matter what, it just won’t go away.
And notice, the psalm doesn’t say, “If I walk through the valley.” Instead, it says, “Though I walk.” “When I walk.”
Valleys are inevitable. Valleys are unavoidable. Valleys are a constant part of our lives.
But as fearful and terrifying as the valley of the shadow might be, it’s not a place where we have to stay. As David wrote, “Yea, though I walk through the valley.”
Sure we may be terrified. We may be very afraid. Who wouldn’t be? Still we know that, if our Shepherd has led us into the valley, He’ll most certainly lead us out, safely to the other side.
George Everett Ross, a pastor who knew more than his share of tragedy, said this: “I have served in the ministry for almost thirty-one years, and I have come to understand that there are two kinds of faith. One says, ‘if,’ and the other says, ‘though.’ One says, ‘If everything goes well, if my life is prosperous, if I’m happy, if no one I love dies, if I’m successful, then I will believe in God and say my prayers and go to church.’ The other says, ‘Though--though evil may prosper, though I sweat in Gethsemane, though I must drink my cup at Calvary--nevertheless, precisely then, I will trust the Lord who made me.’”
In his book, The Lord is My Shepherd, author Robert Morgan tells of a time when his children really wanted horses, but decided, instead, to compromise, and buy four sheep. And in time, his girls loved those little lambs and found it so calming just to watch them grazing in the backyard of their country home.
But as the girls grew up and went away to college, the sheep got older too. Pretty soon, there was only one left, the one they called, “Little Lucy.” She’d been bottle-fed as a lamb, and had enjoyed a lifetime of safe grazing in the pasture. And now, since his daughters had moved away, Lucy became his responsibility, and he worried constantly about her feebleness and frailty.
Every day he went down to check on her. He rubbed her ears, refreshed her water, and fed her oats out of his hand.
And they became attached, that sheep and her shepherd. When she was ill, it bothered him as much as if she were a person. And since her wool had become just a threadbare coat, he was worried about her getting cold on frosty nights.
Then one evening in early January, the temperatures plunged. He tried to keep her warm with blankets and hay, but the next morning, she could barely stand back up on her feet. She lay in her little sheltered bed, and looked up at him with fear and worry in her nearly sightless eyes.
He called a friend who worked for a veterinarian, and with a livestock stretcher, carried her to the barn. Then he set up a heater in her stall and kept her covered in blankets. Then he sat down beside her, talked to her, and cradled her old wooly head in his lap.
But she didn’t recover. She was just too old. When she died a few days later, he buried her in the same pasture that had been her lifelong home.
Now let me ask, do you think Robert Morgan loved that sheep? Of course, he did. Of that, there is no doubt. He carried her to the barn, and brought a heater and water and blankets. He fed her oats out of his hand. And he was with her to the end.
Now let me ask, do you think our heavenly Shepherd loves you? Of course, He does. Of that, there is no doubt. Not only has He provided a place for you to live, He’s given you everything you could possibly need--food, water, clothes, and shelter.
Even more than that, to be with you, He left heaven and came to earth. He took on your flesh, your “sheepness,” then lived a perfect life and died a perfect death. He gave His life for His sheep. And now, since He’s risen again, He’s always with you, and will someday take you to live with Him forever.
You are wanted, not unwanted. Loved, not unloved. Pursued, not abandoned.
Don’t think Christianity is just another religion, because it’s not. Any other religion will teach you what you must do to pursue God.
But Christianity isn’t that way at all. Instead, it’s about what God has done to pursue you, and it’s believing that He, our Savior, has saved us. And if you confess with your mouth and believe in your heart that the Lord is your Shepherd, and the Shepherd is your Lord, you will have life in His name.
We come to You, dear Father, seeking Your grace, Your mercy, and Your protection. Help us to find safety in Your name, for Jesus’ sake. Amen