The Shadow of Death

Take one look around the world and I suspect you will quickly find pain. It doesn’t take much to stumble upon poverty, violence, or perversion – all things that undermine life.

As we continue this journey through Psalm 23, it strikes me that the next line plunges us into the reality of living in this kind of world.

Yea, though I walk through 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.

We have crossed the halfway point of this psalm (at least according to the traditional verse numbering) and we see a shift in focus. The writer brings into the field of view the world around them. All this relationship, resting, restoring, and leading doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It happens in a world – one generally organized against the very things the writer is describing as possible.

There are four parts to this verse, and each brings a particular reality to life.

The valley of the shadow of death is an image that seems to linger in popular culture. It speaks to the trials and tribulations that can come upon any individual. With some similarity to the dark night of the soul, walking through the valley of the shadow of death is something like remaining alive but experiencing something close to death. You are still walking, after all, albeit in death’s shadow. The valley is often presented in opposition to the mountain top. While the mountain top is the high place, where your vision is clear, and the light of the sun always hits you, the valley is the low place, where you are surrounded, and cast in darkness. There might be loss that brings about grief, darkness that clouds or restricts vision, or pain that compounds the agony of isolation.

There is plenty of evil to fear while walking the valley of the shadow of death. What evil is lurking, unseen in the darkness? What pain could we be susceptible to? What loss may be around the corner?

Yet, the writer unequivocally states that they will fear no evil. Saying something like that requires some backup. Having walked through a few valleys myself, I imagine myself asking this writer, “No evil? Really? Why? Why will you fear no evil?”

In my own life, evil isn’t only personal. It seems to come by extension through relationships, too. I’m fine but my friend is going through it. That means I’m going through it. I’m okay, but three communities I’m connected to are suffering. Well, then I’m suffering, too. Of course, my experience does not have the same degree that the individuals directly affected are experiencing in whatever they are going through. But it is enough. It is enough to know the fear that comes in back of the suffering – even anticipated. It is enough to wonder at a reality in which fear of evil doesn’t exist, especially in the valley of the shadow of death. So, I might ask again, “How?”

The writer doubles back to the central tenant of his experience of the world he is describing. His Lord, the good shepherd, is with him.

“Okay,” we might say, “we get that you dig this cat. You’ve gotten some good things from Him – a life of plenty, rest, restoration, and training in the ways of righteousness. But you also got this journey through the valley of the shadow of death. Surely your good shepherd can’t be that good?”

I imagine the writer slowly looking at me after I present this question, as if to say, “You really don’t know, do you?” Not with any condescension or malice, but with a curious sense of pity. Of course, I would hold no pity for myself, thinking I know better. Yet, I am still curious about what they might say.

“Let me tell you why this cat puts all my fears to bed,” the writer might respond. “He’s got two things that he carries that give me comfort. He’s got a rod and a staff.”

Before I go any further it should be mentioned that I’ve had a hard time with this line for most of my life because of a simple framing that is actually incorrect. It goes something like this. Rods and staffs are tools of correction and God corrects those in His care. Correction by a rod or staff sounds like it would hurt. Therefor correction hurts. Therefor God’s correction hurts. But the writer in Psalm 23 said that they are comforted by God’s rod and staff, so I must be comforted by this kind of corrective pain. I must be comfortable with pain.

While I have some thoughts as to why such a teaching may be popularized and become pervasive, I won’t venture to conjecture here. It is enough to say that this is simply a wrong teaching.

Instead, the rod and staff were real tools of shepherds from the time of the writer. The rod was a short blunt instrument used by a shepherd to protect sheep from violent predators. It was effectively a weapon to fend of wolves and other such evils from defenseless sheep. Protection can bring comfort. Knowing someone is willing and able to use the force necessary to protect you, especially when evil abounds and you feel defenseless, is comforting.

The complimentary staff was a longer, often thinner wooden instrument that the shepherd used to guide their sheep. Sheep have a reputation of being simple creatures, often getting themselves lost or in precarious situations when left to their own devices. The staff is guidance – notably not violent or painful correction. Guidance can bring comfort. Knowing that someone knows the way and is willing to nudge us in the right direction, especially in the darkness of the valley, is comforting.

The valley of the shadow of death is a reality. It shows up differently for different folks, but always presents similar challenges. In this way it does less to compare the severity of individual valleys, than acknowledge their vast variety. Through acknowledgment we can begin to experiment with navigating such valleys. Does having experienced a life a plenty change our disposition while in a valley? Yes. Does having rested and been restored change how we experience a valley? Yes. Does having had training in the paths of righteousness change the way we might approach the valley? Yes. Does who we are with in our valleys actually make a difference? Yes.

And this is the key. It’s not that the valley of the shadow of death doesn’t exist or shall not come upon those who find themselves with the good shepherd. Such is the reality of living in a world which is organized towards evil in some very specific and hard-to-change ways. Rather, those who find themselves in the company of the good shepherd have a categorically different experience of this world and its valleys.

Happen upon one of these cats and you might find yourself asking them, “How?”