Michael Kelley's Blog, page 37

Sabbath Isn’t Just Rest; It’s Rebellion.

The New Testament uses many words and images to describe believers in Jesus. We are, according to the Bible, saints; children; beloved; the church; and so on. But we are also strangers. Aliens. Citizens of a different kingdom.

This last series of terms feels ever more relevant. We live in changing times and in shifting cultures where morality and ethics are fluid in all respects, ebbing and flowing with the opinions of the times. Amidst all this flux, the Christian is different. Not just different because they hold often contrary values to these norms, but different because they stand. They are stable. They don’t move because the source of these values, ethics, and even identity is stable. So in the midst of the world, we are the strangers. Those who live here and yet represent a different kingdom.

Now part of living here, of course, involves the recognition of authority that has been put in place by God. Ever respectful, Christians are meant to submit to those governing authorities in so much as we are able in order to live quiet, peaceful, and productive lives right where we are. At the same time, though, we are meant to be ambassadors of that other kingdom, and in doing so, we are at the same time rebels. We are rebels because we believe differently. Behave differently. Live differently. And it’s in those differences we find the rebellion, not in the sense that we are hostile, but in the sense that we are willing to stand against the current.

There are, of course, all different kinds of issues in which these differences – these quiet rebellions – are clear. Issues about the sanctity of life, of the nature of marriage, of how we spend or don’t spend money – these hot button issues are the ones we typically think of when we think about Christians as rebels. But here is one more way that we, as Christians rebel – one way that is a little more under the radar.

Sabbath.

The practice of taking a day of rest and dedicating it to the Lord was first practiced by God on the seventh day of creation, and then codified by His very hand when He etched out the Ten Commandments:

“Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy: You are to labor six days and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God. You must not do any work—you, your son or daughter, your male or female servant, your livestock, or the resident alien who is within your city gates. For the Lord made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and everything in them in six days; then he rested on the seventh day. Therefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and declared it holy” (Ex. 20:8-11).

Simple enough, right? But it’s important for us to realize that for the Christian, the Sabbath isn’t just a day of rest, but a condition we enter into:

“Therefore, a Sabbath rest remains for God’s people. For the person who has entered His rest has rested from his own works, just as God did from His. Let us then make every effort to enter that rest, so that no one will fall into the same pattern of disobedience” (Heb. 4:9-11).

The kind of rest described here isn’t so much an isolated instance but a state of being that’s lived inside of. The day we take of rest, then, becomes a reminder of the state of rest we can enter into because of Jesus. But that’s also the key to understanding why the practice of Sabbath is an act of rebellion.

We live in a culture of achievement. Of self-validation. Of constant efforts to prove your own worthiness to anyone who happens to be looking. But when you rest – really rest – you aren’t producing anything. You aren’t validating anything. You are instead finding your source of validation, identity, and worth in something other than what you produce. Instead, we know that true rest only comes from trusting and living in the finished work of Christ on our behalf. In this, as with so many other things, we stand apart from our culture, and the practice of rest becomes another act of rebellion.

When we rest in the gospel, we ironically fight against the culture. We rebel because we refuse to find our validation in that which the world says validates us. So rest, Christian, and in so doing, fight.

Don’t Let Your “What” Outpace Your “Why”

Once upon a time, I ran a few marathons. Four, to be exact. I ran two in Nashville, one in Memphis, and one in Tucson. And while all four of them were unique, they were also the same. That is, each one was 26.2 miles, and if you’ve never made the choice to do such a thing to yourself, let me sum up my personal experience of what a marathon is:

A marathon is when you pay money to feel terrible for several months.

I’m kidding, of course… sort of. Because I really did feel terrible each and every time. I personally have never experience that mythical moment of a “runner’s high”, when you are filled with renewed energy and a sense of euphoria. Instead, at about mile 20, I felt like my internal organs were shutting down. And about mile 23 I was sure that this is what death felt like. But I finished the race… and, in one instance, I passed out in the parking lot. But eventually anyone, including me, recovers from that kind of thing. And when I finished the fourth one and could finally get out of the bed, I found my way to a computer and checked my time.

It was bad. Really bad. And I remember thinking, I can do better than that. So I immediately searched for my fifth marathon and signed up it.

I started the training process over again, until a few weeks later when the alarm clock went off and I woke up to hear the sound of rain drops falling outside. It was then I realized that I just don’t like running that much. So I went back to sleep and didn’t run again for a year.

Upon reflection, I think that happened because I realized my “what” had outpaced my “why.” Under the weight of the circumstances of that morning, my “what” collapsed.

Of course, it wasn’t always that way. With the first races, my “why” was about achieving something I thought was beyond me. It was about pushing limits. It was about setting a hard goal and working toward it. But that “why” didn’t last. And when your “what” is a particularly big thing, your “why” better be big enough to sustain it.

It occurs to me that this is why Paul always seems to tie his commands in the New Testament to the gospel in the New Testament. The commands are the “what;” the gospel is the “why”:

Love, as Christ has loved you.

Forgive, as Christ has forgiven you.

Serve, for Christ has served you.

Take the last place, for Christ has taken it for you.

It’s important to see the link between these two things because if we don’t, we will always be crushed under the “what”, because the “what” is exceedingly difficult. Impossible, even. Because Jesus won’t allow His followers to settle for the minimum; He’s always moving us toward more. He isn’t interested in us only loving the people who are kind to us; we are to love our enemies. He isn’t interested in us just leading churches and business and families; we are to lead through serving. He isn’t interested in us just writing an occasional check; we are to be generous to our own detriment.

These are hard things. And perhaps we can bear these “what’s” for a while, but there will come a day when we just don’t feel like it any more. The “what” will be too demanding; too unreasonable; too painful. The weight will be too heavy and the cost will feel too great. It’s in that moment that we need a might “why” to keep us going.

Fortunately for us, we have the mightiest “why” imaginable, for no matter “what” is required of us as we follow Jesus, Jesus has already done more. Not only that, but in the “why” we find grace to make up for what we lack in the “what” over and over again.

Don’t let your “what” outpace your “why,” friends. But also remember that when your “what” falls short, which it will, your “why” is there to catch you.

Live in the Unhurried Pace of Jesus

Ferris Bueller once very wisely said, ““Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” 

Well said, Ferris. Well said. Life is moving by at quite a clip. The overall pace of our obligations, our activities, and even our leisure is breakneck. Surely you feel it – the anxiousness that won’t seem to go away. That feeling that you ought to be doing something, even when you’re not doing something. That sense that you constantly clawing to keep up with everyone else’s skills, knowledge, or abilities that are passing you by. And in the midst of all those feelings, perhaps there’s another one that says something like…

“It’s not supposed to be this way.”

Maybe you also have the nagging sense that this unsustainable pace is actually not the good or right way to live. That maybe here, too, the Christian should stand apart from the rest of the world and live at a different pace than everyone else. And if you feel that way too, then take heart – because in Jesus, we see a much different pace of life.

Now keep in mind that Jesus absolutely knew He was on a clock. He knew there were three years of work to do, and that those years were pivotal in a way that any three other years never had been before. He knew all those things, and yet never seemed to be frantic or hurried in the slightest:

Even as the crowds of people following Jesus grew and more and more people clamored for His attention, He did not change His pace of life and instead frequently withdrew to be alone and pray (Luke 5:16).

When Jesus was on his way to heal a very sick little girl, He did not hurry passed an interaction with a sick woman who lived on the outskirts of society when she, too, needed his attention and healing (Mark 5).

Jesus did not even hurry back to see his very sick friend, Lazarus, even though doing so might have prevented suffering and grief (John 11).

The pace of Jesus is a stark spotlight on our own pace. It causes us to ask ourselves the very difficult question: “Who do we think we are?”

And who do we think we are? That if the Son of God did not feel compelled to hurry His way through life, then who do we think we are that we are so important? And perhaps that’s really at the core of our hurried pace – it’s an inflated sense of our own importance. That all these occurrence in life simply can’t go on without us. 

Yes – it’s either our own self-importance – or the opposite. It’s the idea that we are not important at all, and therefore must validate our importance with our life pace. As if the measure of our worth is the packing of our calendars. 

In either case, there is a better way. There is the way of Jesus. For Jesus was – and is – absolutely confident in who He is and what He came to do. He did not need to validate or prove Himself – only to do the Father’s will. May it be so with us, for it’s only in Christ can we be freed from the compulsion of self-importance or insecurity that drives our pace of life.

Wednesday Links

Four links to some things you might have missed, or at least ones that caught my attention this past week:

1. Did God Really Say…

Four words that started it all. And four words still finding easy targets today.

2. God Loves to Surprise His Kids

This is often the way God works. And why not? Any parent can identify with the joy that comes with surprising their children.

3. Valor without Renown

More of this, please. More commitment to living a quietly courageous life.

4. Star Wars Toy Sales Saved Han Solo’s Life

Apparently he was going to bite it in Return of the Jedi, but that toy money…

We Become What We Behold

Most of us don’t have to work at seeing. Sure, there are times when we squint at something far away or some message with particularly small print, but for the most part, seeing is just something we do. It’s like breathing, or thinking, or even walking – these are things that just kind of happen without our conscious knowledge or effort.

But looking is different than seeing. While we don’t pay much attention to the mechanics of seeing, we do have to pay attention when it comes to looking. When we are driving, for example, we must pay attention to have our eyes on the road. We must check out blind spot when we are changing lanes, and we must glance at our mirrors from time to time to make sure we are aware of our surroundings. These are much more intentional eye movements; these are things we must exercise control of. 

Where we look matters. It matters a lot.

And it matters in multiple arenas, not the least of which is spiritual, because where we look actually has a determining quality to it. Here’s how Jesus put it:

“The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are healthy, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eyes are unhealthy, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light within you is darkness, how great is that darkness!” (Matthew 6:22-23).

These two verses are sandwiched between two other sets of verses, both of which are well known. Just before this, Jesus speaks about the fact that we should not store up treasures on earth but instead store up treasures in heaven (vv. 19-21). And just after this, Jesus reminds us that it is impossible for us to have two masters. We can only choose one – either God or money (v. 24). In between, we find this kind of strange reference to the eyes, looking, and seeing.

Strange, yes – but also very important. 

Because according to Jesus, what we do with our eyes determines the light or darkness of our entire selves. 

The eyes are like a lamp. Just as a lamp either provides light or, if it’s extinguished, removes it, so also do the eyes either illuminate or darken. Our eyes provide an entry point for our hearts, minds, and souls. And what we look at – what we focus on – will inevitably effect our entire being.

Think of it like this – let’s say that you choose to limit your sugar intake over the next month. You know it’s going to be difficult – even painful – because you always take sugar in your coffee, drink a soft drink in the afternoon, and eat dessert every night. Knowing the difficulty you will face, you physically remove all the sugar from your home. Every packet, every package, every candy bar and cookie – all gone. You do this because you know if you see them, you might be able to hold out for a little while, but eventually you will give in.

Because out of sight, out of mind.

But the opposite is also true – in sight, in mind. Or even more importantly – in soul. According to Jesus, what we choose to look at is so serious because what we choose to focus on will eventually fill our whole being. 

We will become what we behold. Whether good or bad.

Friends, you might be feeling or worrying about or pushing through any number of things today. And to some extent, you can’t control any of those thoughts or feelings or anxieties. But you can control where you’re looking. And where you’re looking is going to eventually determine what you’re becoming. So let us make sure our eyes are fixed rightly:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith (Hebrews 12:1-2).

–

This post originally appeared at thinke.org.

2 Sources of Comfort When You Don’t Know What to Pray

It’s a tough thing to not know what to say. And it happens to all of us.

Sometimes it happens in the midst of a conversation when one party says something strange or controversial or even upsetting and then there’s that awkward silence as everyone looks down and shuffles their feet and starts sweating a little bit. Because no one knows what to say next.

Or when you are one on one with another person and they have just divulged some piece of news that is extreme in some way – maybe extremely joyful or extremely upsetting – and you find yourself with your jaw hanging open. You are dumbstruck and you don’t know what to say next.

Or another example – you are talking with someone who clearly is an expert in some area that you know nothing about. They go on and on about things you neither know nor care too much about, and then smile at you looking for some direction as to where to take the conversation, and you’ve got nothing. Once again, you don’t know what to say.

And then there is prayer. Prayer is often a moment in which we don’t know what to say. Oh sure – there are the perfunctory prayer remarks, the filler language – but then there are times when the hurt is too great. The suffering is too much. The decision is too overwhelming. And you’ve prayed and prayed and prayed until it feels like you are prayed out. In the face of upheaval and disaster, you find yourself at a loss in prayer. The words won’t come and you simply sit in silence. Because you don’t know what to say any more. What happens then? What happens when you know you ought to pray, and you believe in the power of prayer, and yet you don’t have the words any more? Let me suggest two sources of comfort in those moments that are so big and weighty that our words fail us in prayer:

1. The psalms.

For centuries the psalms have been the devotional text of believers. You read through the psalms and you find equal extremes of joy and sorrow, of gratitude and lament – often in the same psalm. You find a shockingly honest articulation of the innermost thoughts, desires, and feelings of believers in the God of Abraham. You find complaints, anger, bitterness, calls for understanding – you find it all there. In the Bible. And that is a comforting thing for two reasons.

First of all, it’s comforting to know that we aren’t the only – or even the first – people to feel the way we feel. Suffering and sorrow is part of the human experience, and those emotions are certainly part of the faith experience. The simple fact that those words are there, in the inspired Word of God, help us breather a little easier because we know that these feelings are permissible. Not only permissible, but God is welcoming to them and will receive them from an honest.

But secondly, the psalms are comforting because they give us safe language for our sadness, anger, and lament. They help us know what to say when we don’t know what to say. They give voice to what we are feeling so deeply, and let us know that we can pray along with the psalmist of the past at the throne of grace.

2. The Spirit.

And then there’s the Holy Spirit of God, another source of comfort when we don’t know what to pray. When we pray, we might be confused about what the right outcome of a situation is. We, in our limited knowledge, tainted emotion, and short-sighted vision might think we know exactly what a given outcome of a situation ought to be, and yet we might be dead wrong. So we might be confused about what exactly to pray for. We can be certain, though, that the Holy Spirit is not. He knows the will of God, and He is interceding for us not according to our desires, but according to that will:

“In the same way the Spirit also helps us in our weakness, because we do not know what to pray for as we should, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with unspoken groanings. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because he intercedes for the saints according to the will of God” (Rom. 8:26-27).

How wonderfully comforting that is! How beautiful it is to feel your own limitations and double-mindedness, to be mired in your own confusion, and yet to know that the Spirit is your divine translator. While we might stumble around doing the best we can in prayer and know we fall woefully short, we can rest in the fact that the Holy Spirit never does.

Christian, if you are hurting so deeply, if you are worrying so mightily, if your sadness is so heavy that you don’t even know what or how to pray any more – take heart. Turn to the Word. Trust in the Spirit. And believe in the God of grace who will meet you in your need.

“Out Came This Calf!”

Sometimes you read the Bible and just shake your head. Often, you shake your head in wonder as you are confronted with the power of God, the majesty of his creation, the immensity of His love and grace. We shake our heads because the truths there are too big for us; too unlike the kind of power or love that we see here on earth; too great for us to fully comprehend.

Then there are other times when we shake our heads at the people. We wonder at the hard-heartedness; the disbelief; the cycle of turning from God again and again. And then there are times we shake our heads because of the silliness.

Exodus 32 is one of those times. There is high drama in this chapter. The Israelites had been delivered from Egypt in miraculous fashion. The plagues had been called down; the sea had been parted; the people had walked through to the mountain where God had led them. And Moses had been up on that mountain for some time receiving the law that would be the cornerstone of this people for generations. But while Moses was up on the mountain, chaos was erupting in the camp below. For despite all that God had done, all the revelations of His power, all His faithful examples of provision and deliverance, the people wanted something more. Something else.

When the people saw that Moses was so long in coming down from the mountain, they gathered around Aaron and said, “Come, make us gods who will go before us. As for this fellow Moses who brought us up out of Egypt, we don’t know what has happened to him.”

Aaron answered them, “Take off the gold earrings that your wives, your sons and your daughters are wearing, and bring them to me.” So all the people took off their earrings and brought them to Aaron. He took what they handed him and made it into an idol cast in the shape of a calf, fashioning it with a tool. Then they said, “These are your gods, Israel, who brought you up out of Egypt” (Ex. 32:1-4).

Because of the rebellion down below, God was ready to destroy them. But Moses pleaded for the lives of the people and eventually made his way to the party below carrying the tablets of the law. But when he was confronted with the scene, he smashed the tablets in his anger and looked to Aaron for some kind of explanation.

He said to Aaron, “What did these people do to you, that you led them into such great sin?”

“Do not be angry, my lord,” Aaron answered. “You know how prone these people are to evil. They said to me, ‘Make us gods who will go before us. As for this fellow Moses who brought us up out of Egypt, we don’t know what has happened to him.’ So I told them, ‘Whoever has any gold jewelry, take it off.’ Then they gave me the gold, and I threw it into the fire, and out came this calf!” (Ex. 32:21-24).

It bears repeating: “And out came this calf!” And we shake our heads again.

“Out came this calf?” What did Aaron think was going to come out of the fire? In the face of rebellion, Aaron plays the innocent bystander as if he had nothing to do with it. He was the one who fashioned the mold. He was the one who put the gold into it. He was the one who put it into the fire. And…

“Out came this calf!”

What came out of the fire was exactly what Aaron constructed. Let the head-shaking continue.

But as we are shaking our heads, let us also make sure that we are looking in the mirror. For as much as we would like to think it happens by accident, idolatry is always intentional at some level. Whenever we find ourselves in the midst of idolatry, it’s because we have made intentional choices to make it so.

Oh, our idol might not be in the shape of a calf; it might be in the shape of power, or position, or money, or our children’s accomplishments, or even our ministry platform. But the whole reason that “thing”, whatever shape it takes, comes out of the fire of our lives is because we created the mold. We put in the resources. We let it bake for a while.

In every choice we make, we are either choosing to glorify God and worship Him or forging the shape of an idol. These decisions might seem insignificant in the moment, but add them up together enough times, and you’ve got a fully formed idol coming out of the fire. Sometimes it just takes a while for that complete formation to take place.

Let us, then, be aware and careful today about what we are shaping for ourselves. And let us be honest enough with ourselves when whatever we have made comes out of the fire.

Wednesday Links

Four links to some things you might have missed, or at least ones that caught my attention this past week:

1. 3 Ways to Live Humbly Online

Boy, we need it. These are simple things, even ones we might readily do in person. Let’s do them online as well.

2. Don’t Drink Sand

This sounds like a great book, and though this article is a book review, it still offers good reminders about the source of true satisfaction.

3. Finding Family

The church is family. In all its complicated mess, we are family and we should welcome each other as such.

4. LEGO Star Wars Summer Vacation

Just to keep the good, hot weather vibes going…

One Surprising Way to Grow in Love

What does the greatest command hinge upon? Love. What will be the defining characteristic of followers of Jesus? Love. What will never pass away, even after faith and hope are gone? Love.

Love is the mark of the disciple. Jesus said that “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (John 13:35). Not our Bible knowledge. Not our our fasting. Not our stance on public issues. Those things are important indeed, but according to Jesus, the defining mark of Christian discipleship is love.

It makes sense, then, that Christians should not only be marked by love, but that Christians should be growing in love.

But how do we do that?

It’s a little complicated when you start to think about it because it’s hard to imagine willing yourself to love. It’s difficult to conjure up an image of gritting your teeth, clinching your fists, and with a strangled voice declaring, “So help me, I will love if it’s the last thing I do!”

But therein lies part of the problem, doesn’t it? Because we tend to think of “love” as something you fall into or out of; something that is out of our control. This is the first misconception we must counter or else we will think ourselves powerless to grow in this defining characteristic. But having done that, and therefore embrace that we can actually take an active role in growing our capacity to love, what do we do next? 

To get at that answer, we must recognize that there is a fundamental link between the way we perceive that we are being loved, and the way that we love. If we have had the experience of conditional love, then we will likely love conditionally. If we have had the experience of abuse by one claiming to love, then we will likely be guarded in whom we choose to love in the future. If we have had the experience of being taken advantage of in place of being loved, we will likely always see relationships as a means to an end.

We love as we have been loved.

And that is why the Bible reminds us that love – real love – does not generate with us. The truest, best, and most lasting definition of love we can or ever will experience comes from God:

This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins (1 John 4:10).

This is how we have been loved: sacrificially. Completely. Eternally. Unflinchingly. And what is the effect of experiencing that love? John tells us that too:

Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another (1 John 4:11).

And not just John, but Paul:

Follow God’s example, therefore, as dearly loved children and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God (Ephesians 5:1-2).

What does that reality have to do with growing in love? Simply this – if we want to grow in our love for others, let us return and be reminded over and over again just how deeply, completely, and wonderfully God has loved us in Christ. We go back to what love really is, displayed and validated at the cross, and let that experience overflow into our interactions with others. 

This is the surprising way we grow in our love for others – not by trying harder, but by pressing further into the love of God in Jesus today.

–

This post originally appeared at thinke.org.

3 Characteristics of Our Shepherd that Make Psalm 23 Good News

It’s arguably the most well known passage from the Bible, if not any book at all. It has been a source of comfort and strength for generations. It’s been quoted and read during times of difficulty by individuals, by families, by churches, and even by entire nations. And even people outside the Christian faith will look to a passage like this for comfort and strength during seasons of difficulty. This is Psalm 23. And for the Christian, it is very good news.

Though there are many reasons why, they really are all about the nature of the shepherd described there. In particular, there are at least three characteristics of this shepherd that make Psalm 23 such good news:

1. Our shepherd is strong.

You can see the strength of the shepherd throughout the psalm. Why do we fear no evil? It’s not because evil is not there; it’s because the shepherd is with us. He is so strong – so confident – that he spreads out this table. So strong is the shepherd that even in the presence of enemies, we are having dinner.

In the shepherding metaphor, it is vital that the shepherd is strong and capable, mainly because the sheep are so weak! See, many animals have some kind of defense mechanism as a part of their makeup. The Texas horned lizard shoots blood from its eyes. The Iberian ribbed fish pushes defensive and poisonous spikes out from its ribs. Ants in southeast Asia literally explode themselves in order to defend the colony.

But sheep? Well, sheep are a “prey” species which means that their only defense mechanism is just to flat out run away. The sheep, then, is really entirely dependent on the strength of the shepherd. And ours is strong:

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matt. 11:28-30).

2. Our shepherd loves us.

If you look back at the psalm, you don’t just see a strong shepherd that can protect the sheep; you see a loving shepherd. This is the shepherd that makes us lie down in green pastures. The image is one of rest. It’s of peace. Of care. This is what the Shepherd does in His love for us. And then as the psalm closes, we are again powerfully reminded that goodness and mercy will follow us all the days of our lives.

How important is it that you know that your Shepherd loves you? Vitally so. It’s so important that this ongoing and growing experience of God’s love is what Paul prayed for the church at Ephesus:

I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God (Eph. 3:18-19).

When we know and truly believe in the boundless, endless, matchless love of God, it affects everything we do. We are able to serve without expecting repayment. We are able to take risks for the kingdom knowing God will take care of us. We are able to truly love others in a self-sacrificial way. We can do all this because we are convinced of this simple truth: God loves me. Period. Without equivocation.

3. Our shepherd is wise.

There is a leading quality to this relationship between the sheep and the shepherd. That is, we see throughout the psalm that the sheep are being guided to this place and that, and the simple reason why is because the shepherd knows the way to go. And the sheep, knowing that the shepherd is strong, loving, and wise know that their primary job is just to follow. And it still is.

There is a wonderful kind of simplicity in that, isn’t there? That in a life of complexity, the main thing – the main thing – you have to do every day is just follow Jesus.

David, who wrote this psalm, no doubt needed this assurance of the strength of God throughout his life. Consider, for a moment, that when he was a young man David was anointed by Samuel to be the next king of Israel. But then consider all that happened before that anointing actually became reality. David was brought into the service of the king. He eventually became a soldier. The current king, Saul, was threatened by David’s popularity, and drove him from his presence and chased him all around the countryside. It was, in fact, some 15 years before David actually became king.

During that time, what did David need to remember? What truth did he need to fall back on when life seemed to be aimless and spinning out of control? At least it was this – that the shepherd is wise.

Psalm 23 is good news. Better than good. And it is so because our Shepherd is strong and loving and wise. So follow Him.