1 The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
2He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside quiet waters.
3He restores my soul; He guides me in the paths of righteousness for the sake of His name.
4Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,bI will fear no evil, for You are with me;Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
5You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
6Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.
What with post and rail fences, and our pride in Southdown, Astrakhan, and Flemish varieties of sheep, there is no use now of the old-time shepherd. Such an one had abundance of opportunity of becoming a poet, being out of doors twelve hours the day, and ofttimes waking up in the night on the hills. If the stars, or the torrents, or the sun, or the flowers, had anything to say, he was very apt to hear it. The Ettrick Shepherd of Scotland, who afterwards took his seat in the brilliant circle of Wilson and Lockhart, got his wonderful poetic inspiration in the ten years in which he was watching the flocks of Mr. Laidlaw. There is often a sweet poetry in the rugged prose of the Scotch shepherd. One of these Scotch shepherds lost his only son, and he knelt down in prayer, and was overheard to say, "O Lord, it has seemed good in Thy providence to take from me the staff of my right hand at the time when to us sand-blind mortals I seemed to be most in need of it; and how I shall climb up the hill of sorrow and auld age without it Thou mayst ken, but I dinna."
I.OF THE SHEPHERD'S PLAID. No splendid apparel, but rough strong apparel fit for his hard work. The Lord our Shepherd coming out to hunt the lost sheep, puts on no regal robe, but the plain garment of humanity. No; in the wardrobe of heaven He left the sandals of light, the girdles of beauty, the robes of power, and put on our besoiled and tattered raiment. The work of saving this world was rough work, rugged work, hard work; and Jesus put on the raiment, the plain raiment, of our flesh. The storms were to beat Him, the crowds were to jostle Him, the dust was to sprinkle Him, the mobs were to pursue Him. O, Shepherd of Israel! leave at home Thy bright array. For Thee, what streams to ford, what nights all unsheltered!
II. THE SHEPHERD'S CROOK. This was a rod with a curve at the end which, when a sheep was going astray, was thrown over its neck; and in that way it was pulled back. There is no animal that struggles more violently than a sheep when you corner it and catch hold of it. Down the glen I see a group of men around a lost sheep. A ploughman comes along and seizes the sheep, and tries to pacify it; but it is more frightened than ever. A miller comes along, puts down his grist, and caresses the sheep, and it seems as if it would die of fright. After a while someone breaks through the thicket. He says, "Let me have the poor thing." He comes up and lays his arms around the sheep, and it is immediately quiet. Who is the last man that comes? It is the shepherd. Ah, be not afraid of the Shepherd's crook. It is never used on you, save in mercy, to pull you back. The hard cold iceberg of trouble will melt in the warm Gulf Stream of Divine sympathy.
III. THE SHEPHERD'S DOGS. They watch the straying sheep, and drive them back again. Every shepherd has his dog — from the nomads of the Bible times, down to the Scotch herdsman watching his flocks on the Grampian Hills. Our Shepherd employs the criticisms and persecutions of the world as His dogs. There are those, you know, whose whole work it is to watch the inconsistences of Christians, and bark at them. If one of God's sheep gets astray, the world howls. It ought to do us good to know that we are thus watched. It ought to put us on our guard. They cannot bite us if we stay near the Shepherd. The more dogs take after you, the quicker you will get to the gate. The bloody muzzle of the papacy hounded fifty million Protestants into glory.
IV. THE SHEPHERD PASTURE GROUNDS. The old shepherds used to take the sheep upon the mountains in the summer, and dwell in the valleys in the winter. It was well for the sheep to be out of doors. Wells were dug for them, and the shepherd led his flock wherever he would: nobody disputed his right. So the Lord our Shepherd has a large pasture ground. He takes us in the summer to the mountains, and in the winter to the valleys. Warm days of prosperity come, and we stand on sun-gilt Sabbaths, and on hills of transfiguration; and we are so high up we can catch a glimpse of the pinnacles of the heavenly city. Then cold wintry days of trouble come, and we go down into the valley of sickness, want, and bereavement, and we say, "Is there any sorrow like unto my sorrow?" But, blessed be God, the Lord's sheep can find pasture anywhere.
V. THE SHEPHERD'S FOLD. At shearing time — a very joyful time to all the country round — the sheep were put in a walled enclosure, where they could easily be counted, and any wanting would at once be missed. This was the sheep fold.
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