John Elliott Lein

View Original

Making a Bargain

Sermon preached by the Rev. John Elliott Lein at St. Thomas à Becket Episcopal Church on May 3, 2020, on the following texts: Acts 2:42-47, Psalm 23, 1 Peter 2:19-25, and John 10:1-10. Sermon begins at minute 18:45 on the recorded video.


The Psalm for today is probably the most beloved and most known of all those in our Scriptures. If you know any Psalms, it’s probably this one: “The Lord is my shepherd.” It is a psalm of comfort and provision, so if there’s any time we might want to spend some more time on understanding and contemplating this message it’s now.

* * *

Most of us haven’t grown up around sheep the way the original writer and audience of this psalm did. So it might seem odd to us that the term “shepherd” is associated with a figure of power like God, but back then it was common amongst many Ancient Near East peoples to refer to both gods and kings as the shepherd of their people. So when they heard “shepherd” here, they would know that they’re hearing a claim of authority and power in the form of a relatable metaphor.

The poet has set the stage and continues on to describe the form and nature of this Lord’s care.

To lie down in green pastures and be led by still waters is evidence that this king has provided what his people need. It is the sign that the king is fulfilling his role. In the ancient world, before the emergence of the great empires, kingship was often seen as a contract between the people and the ruler. The people promised obedience and support in exchange for leadership and provision. Under this understanding, any leader who rules for their own benefit and does not provide for the people has broken the agreement and nullified the contract. But this king is legitimate; he has fulfilled his responsibilities on behalf of those pledged to his rule.

While the traditional translation usually reads “he revives my soul,” the Hebrew here is very clearly describing the renewal of human wholeness; this is not speaking of an inward sense of peace but of real physical provision for the body and justice for the entire community. This king is guiding his people along a righteous way that reflects and magnifies his true integrity and character, showing in his actions what his essence and nature is.

* * *

At this point the subject shifts from God to the speaker. Now “I” walk through a valley. There’s an implication that this person has set off on their own rather than being directed precisely as in the past verses. But even though the poet has taken agency, possibly on a path that is not guided by the wisdom of the ruler, he has conviction that God remains present and watchful. No matter how dark or dangerous or deadly the valley becomes, the psalmist trusts that his God will never be absent in the trials and this relieves his fears.

There is also confidence that God will keep things on track. The rod and staff have both shepherd and king connotations. As shepherd, sticks protect, direct, and discipline the sheep; as king, the rod and scepter are symbols of the power held over the people to maintain order and justice.

To sit at feast with enemies present implies a level of victory or control over them; this king is victorious and unrivaled in power so that the people do not have to worry.

* * *

Provision continues. The oil here is not for anointing, as is commonly translated, but rather speaks of luxurious comfort and satisfied desires. All that is needed is provided, and more.

The psalmist ends with a re-affirmation: yes, this king is worthy of the bargain pledged. Life is better under his rule than under another’s, or even in attempting to live outside of obligation.

* * *

There are a number of implications and applications for us today, some more comfortable than others, and they apply also to how Jesus picks up some of these themes in the gospel here and elsewhere as well.

What I’m thinking about is this idea of a contract between God and his people. It’s not one that we like to think about in the modern world, but it’s rising up again from these ancient times to challenge our assumptions about how the world works. The idea is this: that if we want what God promises; if we want provision, presence, guidance, the fullness of life that is promised, then we have an obligation in return. We are expected to turn over agency and ownership. Our time, our possessions, our loyalties, our goals—these are to be given up in exchange for what is offered.

Even as I say this, I struggle with the words. It sounds like a cult, like an authoritiarian tyrant trying to take away that which our culture has decided is the ultimate good: freedom. And it may very well be that some listening to this think this is a bargain left in the dustbin of three millennia ago, and have no interest in considering it.

But for myself, I’m left wondering. What is it that our desire for freedom above all else buys us? Is it possible that we’ve signed up for something without recognizing fully what we’ve bought? What if our very insistence on unlimited freedom is a driving force behind a world that often looks very little like that promised in this Psalm?

Certainly the early followers of Jesus that we hear about in the Acts of the Apostles seemed to have a different understanding of the bargain we Americans do. They gave up their possessions, donating them to a common pool to provide for all. They were united in common prayer. They gave up their agency for the kingdom, in trust that their king would give them more than they could obtain on their own.

Is there something we might experiment with in this bargain ourselves today? Maybe we give up a some time, and devote ourselves to regular daily prayer. Maybe we give up some money, dedicating it to the kingdom’s common good. Maybe we come together, safely of course, and share our lives with less of the barriers that we’ve put up between us, insisting on rules of private ownership and private benefit, and become open to the possibility that it is in giving up some of our deepest desires that we actually find them truly fulfilled.

I would like to end by repeating Psalm 23 in a translation that I created recently.

Psalm 23

It is as shepherd that YHWH is to me
nothing do I lack

in meadows of lush grass he allows me long restful rumination
to quiet waters guides me

my life he revives
on the true path he leads
according to his nature

when I walk in gloom of deathly darkness
no harm I fear
for you are with me

your pulling crook and your nudging staff
encourage me onward

you spread a feast before me
even as foes lurk

my body soothed with aromatic oils
my portion provided

these goods and pledges are my constant companions
all the days of my life

and I shall make pilgrimage to the house of YHWH
for many years to come.

AMEN.