Psalm 23; Luke 6:27-38
About 10 years ago, when looking for ways to economize, I convinced my husband to let me cancel the cable. I knew this would be harder for him than it would be for me. I wasn’t sure what he would do on Sunday afternoons without the Golf Channel. I was looking forward to weekday afternoons without the struggle to unplug my 10 year old from Digimon and plug her into her math homework. I was expecting tears, I was prepared for arguments, I was looking forward to saving $50/month.
What I wasn’t expecting was immeasurable blessing, from one so-called sacrifice. After the adjustment, after the tears and the arguments, came an unanticipated peace that was more than the absence of noise. It was contentment. Without television, we were no longer reminded of what we lacked; we were no longer driven by images of what we should want. It’s not just the advertising, it’s the programming itself, the glittering images that cannot compare with unpolished, unproduced reality. In the absence of screen entertainment we discovered blessings all around.
“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.” We are so familiar with the Psalm that we fail to recognize the radical message, the counter-cultural world it proposes. The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. I shall not need. I have it all, already. Green pastures, still waters, restoration for the soul. A banquet table, a luxuriant anointing, an overflowing cup. Goodness and mercy. This is abundant blessing.
The beatitudes of Jesus, “Blessed are the poor, the hungry, those who mourn,” might be a sermon on Psalm 23, a meditation on God’s faithfulness. In the gospel of Luke, the beatitudes are followed by this promise of abundance: the measure you give will be the measure you get, pressed down, shaken together, running over… running over, like that cup in the psalm. Cups running over, grain spilling into your lap.
Sometimes, our preoccupation with our wants robs us of our sight. We become blind to the blessings that overflow. So now, I want to lead you in an exercise (adapted from David Lose, “Dear Working Preacher” Oct. 2, 2011) which I hope will help the scales fall from our eyes.
1. Take your pink bulletin insert. Turn it over. On the blank side, divide the sheet into two columns.
2. Write down in one column five to ten blessings for which you are most grateful.
3. In the other column, write down five to ten things you want or lack.
4. I don’t think God is insensitive to our wants. But we like children, sometimes want things inappropriately-- like the 14 year old who wants a car, or like the five year old who wants a horse. Sometimes we want impatiently, and sometimes we want magically. What we want may be exactly what we need; and if that is the case I am confident that in time, all will be supplied.
Bearing all that in mind, consider the question: If you could have everything on one list and nothing on the other, which would you choose? Have you any doubt now, that the Lord is your shepherd, you shall not want?
“A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap….” Thanks be to God.
