Finding Still Waters in the Wilderness of Psalm 23

David Ben-Ami

Good morning, and welcome. Before the day gets loud, let's take a few minutes with six short verses. Psalm 23. In Hebrew it begins Mizmor leDavid, a song of David. I'll read it slowly.

David Ben-Ami

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He causes me to 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. Even as I walk in the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. You set a table before me in the presence of my adversaries; You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. May only goodness and kindness pursue me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for length of days.

David Ben-Ami

Let's begin with two Hebrew words. Adonai ro'i. The Lord is my shepherd. Ro'i means my shepherd, from the root for tending a flock. Teachers often point out that this root shares its letters with the word rea, which means companion or friend. So the picture isn't of a distant ruler. It's closer to someone who walks beside you.

David Ben-Ami

The next phrase is lo echsar, and here English can mislead us. Many of us grew up with 'I shall not want,' and it can sound as if the psalm asks us to stop wanting anything. But lo echsar means 'I will not lack.' It isn't a promise that desire disappears. It's a promise of enough. What my soul truly needs will be there.

David Ben-Ami

Now, why David? The tradition says David wrote this as a shepherd who knew sheep, and later as a fugitive. Rashi teaches that David composed it while running from King Saul, hiding in the dry forest of Hereth, close to starvation. So these are not the words of someone comfortable. They come from the wilderness.

David Ben-Ami

And the sages tell a story about David's early years. It's in Shemot Rabbah, the Midrash on Exodus, chapter 2. God, it says, tests righteous leaders through their flocks. When David tended his father Jesse's sheep, he didn't just let them all out together. He held back the big ones, and first he sent out the youngest lambs, to graze on the tender grass at the top. Then he brought out the older sheep for the middling grass. And last he released the strong young rams to the tough, stalky grass. And God said: one who knows how to herd the flocks, each according to its ability, will come and herd My people.

David Ben-Ami

Sit with that for a moment. The test of a leader wasn't strength or speed. It was noticing that a lamb and a ram need different things at the same hour. That's the God of this psalm. Not a voice asking the same of everyone, every day, but a shepherd who meets you where your strength actually is.

David Ben-Ami

Which brings us to the second phrase, mei menuchot. Mei means waters. Menuchot means rest, or repose. Waters of rest. We usually say 'still waters,' and the image is often explained like this: in the Judean wilderness, a storm in the hills can send water rushing down the dry riverbeds, loud and dangerous. Sheep are wary of that kind of current. So a shepherd leads them past the torrent to a place where the water has come to rest, and there they can finally drink.

David Ben-Ami

And then the verse after it: nafshi yeshovev. He restores my soul. Literally, He brings my nefesh, my life force, back. The medieval commentator Radak says God does this like a good shepherd who doesn't push or drive the flock, but guides them slowly.

David Ben-Ami

Now I want to point to something small in the grammar, because I think it holds the whole psalm. In the first three verses, David speaks about God. He makes me lie down. He leads me. He restores my soul. God is in the third person, like a subject we're describing.

David Ben-Ami

Then David enters the valley. Gei tzalmavet, the valley of deepest darkness. And suddenly the language changes. 'I will fear no evil, for You are with me.' Ki attah immadi. Not 'He.' You. In the dark, David stops describing and starts speaking directly.

David Ben-Ami

Many commentators notice this turn, and here is how I read it. When the pastures are green, it's easy to talk about God in the abstract. When we're afraid, or grieving, or lying awake with worry, the relationship becomes face to face. And notice what the verse doesn't say. It doesn't say the valley disappears. David still walks through it. The calm comes from realizing he isn't walking alone.

David Ben-Ami

So, a practical thought for today. Three small ones, and take only the one you need.

David Ben-Ami

First, before you open your phone or your list, say lo echsar. For this moment, I lack nothing. See if it's true for just this one breath. Second, look for your own mei menuchot. The world sends rushing water all day, urgency and noise and bad news. Find five quiet minutes, a cup of tea, a short walk, a window, and let your heart settle like water that has come to rest. And third, if you wake up tired or fragile, remember the lambs. David sent them out first, to the softest grass. You're allowed to start today gently.

David Ben-Ami

Let me close with the blessing our tradition has used for thousands of years, from the Book of Numbers. May the Lord bless you and keep you. May the Lord make His face shine upon you and be gracious to you. May the Lord lift up His face to you, and grant you shalom, wholeness and a deep inner peace. Go gently into your day. Until next time.