So how are you all doing? Excellent. That's great. Is anybody feeling tired? Run down? Not that I'm trying to bring the mood down, but it's January, right? And January reminds us often how much we need rest, not just for our bodies, but also for our souls. December is always so busy. Even into early January, we're still running. But then all of a sudden, the lights and the decoration come down, or at least for most people. Mine are still up because I haven't got to it yet. The calendar gets rebooted, especially if you have kids, but into a normal schedule of work and activities. And suddenly, you feel let down. After spending weeks of looking forward to Christmas, And now it's like, now what? Outside, the days are still short. The mornings are dark, the cold has settled in. And for many of us, January just doesn't feel refreshing. Instead, it's revealing. Now that we've stopped running with all the extras of Christmas, we find out just how tired we actually are. And when the weight of the new year presses in with questions, particularly in such a year as this, when there is so much uncertainty and the world around us seems to be imploding, and we feel as though we're watching a train wreck in slow motion.
It's in these challenging times that the questions that we actually have no answers for keep going through our heads as if they're on a recorded loop. Questions like, What is this year going to bring? Do I have the strength to face whatever this year brings? What if things don't change? What if things change too much? What happens if? And you can fill in the blank. Questions feel endless, but our energy certainly doesn't. Having them constantly going on through our minds on repeat, especially at night when we're trying to sleep, is exhausting. And we weren't made to be always worrying. We weren't made to be always pushing forward, always to be striving, always looking ahead to what comes next. We need rest, true rest. So that's why for the next couple of Sundays, we're going to be engaging with the Psalms, with the theme of still becoming Psalms for the New Year. And there's no better place to begin than with what may be the most well-known Psalm, Psalm 23. Now, a lot of times you think of these familiar words as being read at bedside or at funerals. Actually, they were read at a baptism for a young girl that I was baptising.
It was her favourite Psalm, and she had the whole thing memorised in the old King James version. But while the Psalm is often read at special occasions, it's actually written for everyday life. The words are a declaration of trust, a song of peace, and an invitation to slow down and let God lead. Psalm 23 paints a beautiful picture for us, not just of physical rest, but of deep spiritual renewal. So whether you're coming this morning carrying joy or worry, whether you're coming feeling a sense of certainty or whether you're questioning everything, this psalm meets you right where you are. So we're going to start by reading the psalm together. Now, do many of you have it memorised in the old King James version? Because let's face it, as much as I don't use the King James on a regular basis, it is the one that's easiest to memorise because it's the most musically phrased. But that being said, we're going to read it the NIV version. Okay, so we're going to read it all together, okay? Ready? The Lord is my shepherd. I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside quiet waters.
He refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right path for his name's sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me. Your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me. In the presence of my enemies, you anoint my head with oil. My cup overflows. Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Our first point that we're going to discuss is that God cares. Because look how the Psalm begins, The Lord is my shepherd. So we all know that David's the writer of this Psalm, right? And David obviously knew something about shepherding firsthand. Since growing up, that was his job. And maybe that's why he doesn't begin with abstract theology or distant praise. He begins with relationship. The Lord is my shepherd. This is personal. Not just a God who exists, not just a shepherd in general, but my shepherd, a God who knows, leads, and cares for his people personally. Now, shepherds in ancient times lived with their sheep. They guided them, they protected them, they corrected them when they wandered, and they even called them by name.
And it's from his personal lens that his words of care come from. David's making the point that God cares for him the way he, David, used to care for his sheep. But even though David is speaking from personal experience, his words also remind the reader of Israel's bigger history. When God led his people through the wilderness, providing food from heaven, water from a rock, he was acting like a shepherd, guiding and caring for his flock. Because of this, Israel's poets and prophets often describe God as their shepherd. In this Psalm, David uses that same image, one that connects to Israel's history and also expresses his own personal relationship with God. Now, when I was little, One of my favourite toys was my doll house. I would play with that thing for hours, moving the furniture around and arranging the family to do everyday things, making them cook dinner in the kitchen or going to play outside, or going to bed. And while I was playing, I remember wondering if there was this giant that lived in the sky moving me and all the other people around in the world, like I moved the people in my doll house.
I pictured this big man gently putting me wherever he wanted, having me do whatever it was that I was supposed to do. Now, looking back, I may also have been overly influenced by watching too much of the friendly giant, but be that as it may, you could say that this idea of some big guy in the sky determining all my moves was my very childlike and very mistaken idea of God. God doesn't control us like puppets. He gave us free will. And unlike the giant in the sky image that I imagined, God doesn't simply move us around to get his way. It isn't a big hand ordering our lives. It's his great love and care that guide us. When David describes God as a shepherd, he's painting a picture of deep care and guidance, not distant management. The Lord is my shepherd. I lack nothing. So the second part of that phrase is important. I They lack nothing. Because with these words, David is echoing the language of Moses that he used in Deuteronomy 2: 7. The Lord your God has blessed you in all the work of your hands. He has watched over your journey through this vast wilderness.
These 40 years, the Lord your God has been with you, and you have not lacked anything. Moses spoke these words to remind Israel that throughout their 40 years in the wilderness, God was with them every step of the way, faithfully providing all that they needed. And by using this same language, David intentionally connects his own experience to Israel's story. He reminds his readers then and now that this is still the God we serve. A God who walks with us, who provides for us, and who cares for each of us personally, not a God who simply watches from a distance. And God chooses to trust God completely. By calling the Lord his shepherd, he is committing to following God's lead and believe that God will always care for him. It's the same promise that we find in Psalm 34: 10. Those who seek the Lord will lack no good thing. So let me ask you, are you living today like you have a shepherd, like someone is watching over your life, not just when things go wrong? So our next The point is that rest is a gift. He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside quiet waters. He refreshes my soul. So we often think that rest is something that we earn, right? After the work is done, after the problem is solved, if I just get this done, then I can sit down for a few minutes and put my feet up. If I just get this, when I get all this done, I can go to bed. Sound familiar? But David presents rest as a gift that God gives, not as a reward that we receive. But yet rest is also a challenge, because if we're honest, many of us aren't very good at resting. We struggle to slow down, to lie down, and to allow ourselves to be led. Sometimes God has to make us lie down. Sometimes he invites us to stop striving, to set down burdens that we were never meant to carry, and to rest, not just physically but deeply, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. And January often carries a strange mix of pressure and fatigue. It's the time of new resolutions, of setting goals, of fresh starts. But many of us are already worn down. Psalm 23 speaks directly into that tension. God's not only concerned with productivity, he cares deeply about restoration.
In other words, rest has always been God's intention for his people, not laziness, but a settled trust in him. David shows us that God meets more than his physical needs, like food and water and rest. He also tends to his emotional and spiritual needs. When David speaks of green pastures and quiet waters, he's not just describing a peaceful scene. He's describing a deep sense of safety and security dirty and calm, like sheep who can lie down and rest because they know that their shepherd is near. The phrase quiet waters is actually better translated as waters of rest, which next to some big moments in Israel's story. In fact, it goes all the way back to the Garden of Eden. Eden was the original place of perfect peace and provision and fellowship with God. In Genesis 2, the garden is watered by rivers and is described as a place of abundance and life and harmony. There is no fear, there was no hunger, there was no conflict, just restful, trusting life in God's presence. Just thinking about that, doesn't it make you just feel so peaceful, the idea? By referring to waters of rest, there's an echo of that first ideal, God's design for humanity to dwell in peace and well being with him.
Quiet waters or waters of rest also echo the way God led his people towards a place of rest after the Exodus. Listen to the words of Deuteronomy 12: 8-10. Your pattern of worship will change. Today, all of you are doing as you please because you have not yet arrived at the place of rest. The land the Lord your God is giving you is your special possession. But you will soon cross the Jordan River and live in the land the Lord your God is giving you. When he gives you rest from all your enemies and you are living safely in the land. So how is the land described? As a place of rest. Throughout the wilderness journey, God's purpose was to lead his people into a settled and peaceful land, a place where they would be safe, provided for, and free to worship him. We hear that promise fulfilled in Joshua 21: 44. And the Lord God gave them rest on every side, just as he had solemly promised their ancestors. So when David speaks of waters of rest, he's drawing on this deep biblical memory of God faithfully leading his people out of hardship and into peace.
And it reaches even further back to Eden, the first place of peace and provision and unbroken relationship with God. In other words, when David says that God leads him beside quiet waters, he's remembering how God has always led his people to places of blessing, of rest, and of restoration. It's a reminder that God's desire is not simply to rescue his people, but to bring them into peace and renewed relationship with him. So as you come to verse three of the Psalm, David shifts from describing physical rest to focusing on spiritual renewal. He writes, He restores my soul. He guides me along the right paths. Here, David paints a picture of God who not only refreshes us, but also leads us forward in the right direction. And there's some discussion that's been had over the phrase right paths or paths of righteousness, depending on the translation. But Whether we hear this as morally righteous or as simply good and straight, the meaning is the same. God leads us on paths that honour him and lead to life. The image of a path appears often in wisdom literature, especially in Proverbs, where it represents the direction of a person's life.
Proverbs sets before us a clear choice, the straight path that leads to life or the crooked path that leads to destruction. So when David says that God leads him on the right path, he's affirming that God actively guides him away from what destroys and towards a life that's shaped by integrity and justice and purpose. And David tells us why God does this for his name's sake. God shepherds us not only for our good, but to reveal his character, his faithfulness, his goodness, and his glory. His guidance in our lives reflects who he is. This is about more than just help with individual decisions. It's about the shaping of an entire life. David is reminding us that the good shepherd leads us in ways that reflect his goodness and bring honour to God's name. Psalm 23 reminds us that like sheep, we have both basic needs, like food and water and rest, and deeper ones, like peace, direction, and meaning. And the Lord, our shepherd, provides for all of them. He not only meets our needs, he leads us towards wholeness. And as we step into a new year, we're reminded that God's guidance isn't about pushing us faster or demanding more from us, but about leading us wisely and faithfully.
So tell me if this is what David goes on to say. Even though one day I may or I may not walk through the darkest valley. Is that what he says? No. He doesn't say, may or may not. He doesn't say that dark valleys, that painful times, that difficult challenges are optional. He lets us know that they will happen. It's not an if, but a when. And David doesn't pretend that life is all green pastures. He's honest about the journey. New Year celebrations often bring unknowns, like health concerns and financial pressures and broken relationships and lingering grief. And these days it can feel like there are more unknowns and uncertainties than ever, or at least more unexpected events that remind us just how chaotic our world can be. And it's in that reality that many of us enter January already walking through a valley. So we know that dark valleys are not a matter of possibility. They're a matter of time. Loss comes, confusion comes, illness, grief, disappointment, loneliness. They all come. And David knows what it is to walk through places where hope feels dim and the way forward isn't clear. And yet he says, I will fear no evil for you are with me.
Let that sink in. You are with me. That's the promise. Not that life is always going to be easy or that faith guarantees a smooth path, but that we are never alone. The shepherd walks with us even when the road is dark, the diagnosis is devastating, the relationship falls apart, or the next step feels impossible to see. Who's watched the movie Finding Nemo? So remember Marlin, the father, right? He was desperately to find Nemo. The journey was terrifying. He had to cross the entire ocean facing sharks and jellyfish and anglerfish, and then in that vast, dark, deep abyss, remember? One of the scariest moments was when Marlin and Dory swim into that deep, dark trench. They can't see anything. It's pitch black. Marlin starts to panic and wants to turn back. But Dory ever hopeful, sings, Thank you. Even when they can't see where they're going, they keep moving forward together. And it's Dory's calm, persistent companionship, her being with Marlin, that helps him keep going rather than give up. And that's a lot like what David says in Psalm 23. He doesn't say God takes away all the darkness, but that you are with me.
The promise isn't the absence of darkness. The promise is presence. God He doesn't abandon us in our uncertainty. He does not shout directions just from a distance. He walks beside us, steady and watchful and faithful. And as much as we may want to avoid the dark valleys in life, the truth is that God doesn't usually aid us in that endeavour. Instead of helping us get around them or trying to avoid them altogether, he leads us through them. But he never leaves us to travel it alone. So do you see the picture that David is painting? He's saying, I don't have to fear what's around the corner because I trust who is beside me. And if you're in one of those valleys right now, hear this clearly, that God has not abandoned you. You are not forgotten. Your shepherd is near. Even when you can't feel him, even when your prayers feel hollow, he's there, he's holding you up, and he's walking you through. God's goodness is ongoing. As we move into the latter half of Psalm 23, David's imagery shifts. It's no longer just green pastures or dark valleys. Now he He's speaking of a table prepared before him, a cup that overflows, and God's goodness and mercy following him all the days of his life.
This is more than survival. It's abundance, not just enough to get by, but But more than enough. And that table is a powerful image. In scripture, a table represents welcome and safety and belonging. It's God saying, You are welcome here. Even with enemies nearby, David can rest securely because God himself has prepared the place. There's no fear, there's no scrambling, there's just trust. Then David says, My cup overflows. This isn't just a measured blessing, it's abundance joy spilling over, grace given freely more than we could ever ask for or imagine. And when David declares, Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me, the words follow mean to pursue, even to chase. It was like in the song you guys were singing today, right? The goodness of God running after. Thank you. I'm not going to sing it. But yes, those lyrics were so true. God's goodness and mercy don't lag behind us. They actively seek us out and refuse to let us go. And all of this reminds us that God is not a God of bare minimums. He doesn't only walk with us through valleys, he also prepares feasts for us. He restores us, he provides, he brings us home.
And at the same time, Psalm 23 is honest about life. David says, even though I walk through the darkest valley, right? He's letting us know. Now, the valley may look different for each of us, but the promise is the same. We don't walk alone. But the Psalm ends with deep confidence. God's goodness and love will pursue us every day of our lives, carrying us all the way home to dwell in the house of the Lord forever. And then ultimately, the Psalm points us to Jesus, right? The same shepherd who led David and Israel took on flesh in Christ. Jesus walked through the valley of suffering and death and trusted the Father to lead him through. And now, because we belong to him, the good shepherd walks with us, leading us toward a future where all things are made right. Now, it's through the church today that we experience God's shepherding, that we experience God's care. It's in the ups and the downs of life that we're able to look around and see others that are walking the path with us, each of us led by the one who promises to see us all the way home.
So let me ask you today, where do you need to experience God's leading in peace? Are you weary from rushing and striving and needing green pastures for your soul? Are you thirsty for the still waters of his peace? Are you walking through a dark valley needing to know that you're not alone? Or are you standing at a table of blessing, called to pause and give thanks? Psalm 23 is God's invitation to all of us, an invitation to slow down, to breathe deep, to remember we have a shepherd who knows us by name. And as we stand in the beginning of a new year, Psalm 23 invites us to release our grip on control and place our lives again in the hands of our shepherd. So where do you need God's guidance as the year begins? Where are you weary in need of rest? Where are you walking through uncertainty, longing to know that you're not alone? Because Psalm 23 is not just about endings, it's for beginnings. It reminds us that before we choose our direction, we are chosen. Before we plan our steps, we are led. Before we face what comes next, we are held.
God offers care. He offers rest, he offers peace, and he offers overflowing grace. So as you step into this year, step forward with confidence, not because you know the way, but because you know your shepherd. Because as the good old King James Version puts it, The Lord is your shepherd. You shall not want. Let's pray. Shepher God, we thank you that you are not distant, but that you are near, that you know us by name, that you lead us with care, and that you walk with us through every season of life. God, when we are weary, you give us rest. When our souls are scattered, you restore us. When the path ahead is unclear, you guide us in the right way, faithfully, patiently, and for your name's sake. When we walk through dark valleys, remind us that we are never alone. Help us to trust your presence more than our fear, to feel comfort of your rod and staff, and to walking step by step with you. Lord, we thank you for the abundance of your grace, for the table that you prepare, and for the cup that overflows, and for the goodness and mercy that pursue us every day of our lives.
As we leave this place, God, help us to live as people who trust the shepherd, listening for your voice, resting in your care, and following you wherever you lead until the day we dwell in your house forever. We pray all this in the name of Jesus, our good shepherd. Amen.
