“Silent witnesses: Rod and Staff”
Psalm 23:4
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus.
In the spring of 1988, young, twenty-nine year-old Renée Lacouague was on top of the world. She was the choral music director at San Clemente High School, where in a matter of months, her class had grown from 18 to 150. “Choir is cool,” the kids said.
She loved her kids. She pushed her kids. Time after time, she told them, “You may not always get to choose the songs, but if you put your trust in me, you’ll surely make beautiful music.”
But as much as she loved to teach, it would be her last year at San Clemente. Dave Bondi, her fiancé, had just asked her to be his wife. She’d move to Denver right after the wedding.
Then came that fateful Sunday night in May of 1988. Just as soon as she finished preparing her lesson plans for the coming week, she got up from her kitchen table, exhausted. And as she climbed into bed, she suddenly slipped, hit her head on the floor, and heard a crack in her neck. When she came to a few minutes later, she found herself lying on the floor, wondering, “How did I get here?”
But as she tried to roll over and sit up, she realized she couldn’t. Instead, when she moved, she heard another crack, and felt a burst of pain.
When her roommate found her lying on the floor a few moments later, Renée said, “My neck is killing me. Call for help!”
When she woke up in the hospital’s ICU, her doctor didn’t mince any words. He said, “Renée, your neck is broken. You’re paralyzed from the neck down.” And in that moment, she realized her plans were shattered and her life was over. She couldn’t teach, she couldn’t sing, and she couldn’t expect her fiancé to marry a quadriplegic woman.
“God,” she prayed, “why?”
It’s easy to say that Psalm 23 is the best-known and best-loved psalm of all. In fact, even if someone knows next to nothing about the Bible, it’s likely they at least know the words of Psalm 23.
And it’s easy to understand why. No psalm gives more promise or more comfort than the words of Psalm 23: “The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.”
Long before there was David the king or David the giant slayer, there was David the shepherd. Even as a little boy, he spent every night and every day out in the open fields and mountain passes, streams and valleys, tending his father’s sheep. He knew what it was like to be a shepherd. He knew what it was like to care for sheep.
Even more, out of all the characters in the Bible, David is one we admire the most. Not only was he a shepherd and a brilliant military fighter, he was a gifted musician, and a king.
But even more than that, he was a sinner. For out of all the characters in the Bible, no one rose as high as David, and no one fell as low as David, the king.
Now in verse 4, just as soon as he writes, “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,” he writes, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil…”
Why? “For You are with me; Your rod and staff, they comfort me.”
Let me stop there for just a moment.
Now I don’t often get too technical in sermons. I usually leave that sort of thing for Bible Class. But if you can bear with me for just a second, you’ll learn something kind of important.
While Psalm 23 isn’t the shortest of psalms, (that award goes to Psalm 17 with its 17 Hebrew words), nor is it the longest of psalms, (that prize goes to Psalm 119 with its 1,065 Hebrew words), Psalm 23 has, (a little less than average), 55 Hebrew words.
Now that might not seem all that interesting to you. But what is interesting is what we find at the very middle, the very heart, of Psalm 23. For exactly 26 Hebrew words before and exactly 26 Hebrew words after, right there in the middle, are the words of verse 4: “For You are with me.” It’s as if David meant to say that, whether we find ourselves lying down in green pastures, or resting beside still waters, whether we’re walking through deep, dark valleys, sitting in the presence of enemies, or even drinking from a cup that overflows, the Lord is with us, God is with us, leading, preparing, and restoring. And He will never let us go.
Back to verse 4. So why, even though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, should we fear no evil? David wrote: “For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.”
Now if you didn’t know any better, you might just lump those two things together--rod and staff. “Your rod and staff, they comfort me.” But the truth is, it’s not one thing. It’s two.
So what’s a rod? It’s a short, wooden club, about two feet long, with a heavy, rounded knob carved at the end. Tribes in south Africa still use them today. At close quarters, it’s much like a police officer’s night club. From far away, it’s a missile.
In his book, A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23, author Phillip Keller writes that, in Bible times, from the time a boy first began to tend his father’s flock, he took pride in making his own rod. He chose a young sapling and dug it out of the ground. Then he carved it and whittled it, shaping it to fit exactly in his hand. And when it was ready, he spent hours practicing with it, and learning how to throw it hundreds of feet with speed and accuracy.
It was an extension of his hand. It was a symbol of his strength, his power, and his authority in any serious situation. It was what he relied on to protect both himself and his sheep in any kind of danger.
Think about it--there’s a poisonous snake lying on the path, till the rod comes flying, and whack--it’s either dead or gone. A lion’s stalking the flock, till the rod comes flying, and whack--he’s not so likely to eat those sheep anymore.
Remember David standing before Goliath the giant? Anyone could have told him he didn’t have a chance. Goliath was the strongest, most fearsome and terrifying Philistine warrior there ever could be, and David was little more than an underdeveloped teenage boy. But he was a shepherd who knew how to throw and how to kill.
And not only did a shepherd use his rod to protect himself and his sheep, he’d also use it to discipline his sheep. If they ever got too close to any kind of danger, he’d send it whistling through the air, not to hurt or kill, but to send that wayward animal scurrying back to the flock. It was his firm, yet gentle way of saying, “Don’t even think about going there.”
And not only did he carry a rod, he also carried a staff.
But the staff had a far different purpose. Its crook end could reach out and draw sheep away from danger, or fetch one that had fallen into water. It could lift a newborn lamb and return it to its mother.
And it could guide the sheep. As the shepherd walked among his flock, he could gently rest it against their side, and nudge them in the right direction. It was his way of keeping in touch with them, of letting them know that he was there. It was as if they were walking not just side-by-side, but hand-in-hand.
No wonder David wrote: “Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.”
No one has to tell you we live in a bad, bad world, where, more often than not, we’re on the losing end. We’re overmatched. Not only does the enemy look smarter, stronger, tougher, and more powerful than we could ever be, danger surrounds us on every side. As Paul wrote to the Ephesians: “Our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against...the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.”
But when we feel we could never be good enough or strong enough, we remember that even though our Shepherd might look meek and mild, in His hand there’s a rod and a staff.
To put it another way, are you weak? God is strength. Are you poor? God is rich. Are you in trouble? God is comfort. Are you sick? God is health. Are you dying? God is life. Are you nothing? God is all things. He is wisdom and power, justice and mercy, grace and truth. He is glory, beauty, holiness, perfection, all-sufficiency, and eternity.
“The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.”
Back in the 1930s and 40s, classically-trained British actor Charles Laughton performed many of Shakespeare’s plays in London, then went on to star in a number of major Hollywood films.
And one Christmas, as he was attending a party with a group of family and friends, the party’s host asked everyone to recite a favorite passage or poem they thought best represented the spirit of Christmas. When it came time for Laughton to speak, he skilfully recited the words of Psalm 23. When he was done, everyone applauded his performance, then moved on to the next person’s turn.
The last to participate was an elderly aunt who had dozed off in a corner. When someone gently woke her and explained what was going on, she thought for a moment, then also began to recite the words of Psalm 23.
At first, everyone was embarrassed for her. She didn’t know that Laughton had spoken those very same words only moments before.
But while she spoke, her words were so full of emotion and compassion, the gathering was surprised. They had never heard anyone speak with such trust before.
Later when someone asked Laughton what he thought of her speech, he answered, “I know the psalm, but she knows the Shepherd.”
Remember that woman I mentioned at the beginning, the one whose life was suddenly and terrifyingly changed?
As she lay flat on her back in that hospital bed, she remembered the words she had often told her students: “You may not always get to choose the songs, but if you put your trust in me, you’ll surely make beautiful music.”
So she prayed to the Lord. She said, “Yes, Lord, I trust You.” And though she would never walk again, in spite of her paralysis, her fiancé insisted on taking her as his wife. And though she couldn’t teach at school, she formed three youth choirs at her church, then went on to record music and give concerts across the nation. You can read her life story in her book, The Last Dance, but Not the Last Song.
“The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want...His rod and His staff, they comfort me.”
Savior, Redeemer, and Shepherd, whether we’re on bright, sunny hilltops or in dimly lit valleys, we fear no evil, for You are with us. Your rod and Your staff, they comfort us. Help us to rest in Your arms, for Your sake. Amen