Not Want – This is the place to start.  The words are “not want” (lo’ ekaw-sere).  Isn’t that what we all hope for?  To live in this world without want.  No matter what else we believe, this seems to be the universal plea of our souls.  Atheist, agnostic or religious follower of any god, not one of us desires a life of continual want.  We may not aspire to riches, but we do desire life without emptiness.

David sees that the only real answer to the gnawing within is the work of the shepherd.  He recognizes that we are not able to fill the voids with our own hands.  This, of course, is a fundamental tenant of the Way, but today it often appears that “Christianity” no longer fully embraces this pivotal confession.  As the good bishop from Africa remarked, “I had no idea that the [American] church could accomplish so much without God.”  My kaw-sere (lack) is removed by the shepherd, not by me.  He is the one who provides what I need.  He feeds.  I follow.

But we all knew this, didn’t we?  We have known this for ages, ever since we memorized this verse when we were children.  If you or your children haven’t memorized this absolutely basic bit about God, then do it now.  This is the first step of a real emotional theology.  You see, we all intellectually agree with David’s statement, but we rarely make it the inner pillar of life support when our emotions send us down the path of empty desires.  We have a God of propositions, a God of shepherd-theory, not a God who picks us up and actually carries us to green pasture.  Most of the time, we entertain a God who we believe knows how to help, but seems unwilling to do so.  And why should He?  We are too quick to take care of ourselves. 

Notice the implication of the insightful verse.  God provides, but my lack of want is not based on His provision.  It is based on the fact that He is the shepherd, even if He does not provide now.  I declare that I will not want, that I will not succumb to the heresy of doubting the benevolence of God, even if today I am hungry.  Why?  Because I am filled by who He is, not what He does.  He is my shepherd and since that is true, I can follow Him through some pretty terrible places knowing that He will always be the shepherd.

I will not be seduced by religious theory.  I want a God who holds me in his arms when I cry, who shelters me when the storms howl, who sets that table before me when my enemies are ready to attack and who loves me even when I fail.  But most of all, I want to know that He is the shepherd even when I can’t see Him through life’s tragic fog.

My wants are deep.  As I write these words, I feel them tugging at my soul.  Loneliness.  Discouragement.  Disappointment.  Failure.  Hopelessness.  Confusion.  Angst.  The caverns of human plight are dark, foreboding and cold.  I cannot survive them without the real, live, present Shepherd.  If God cannot care for my emotions, then I will forever be lacking.  Life is more than health and wealth, isn’t it?

Do you have a Shepherd or do you merely acknowledge a God of shepherd-theory while you run off to the therapist or the prayer group?

Topical Index:  shepherd, Psalm 23:1, not want, lo’ ekaw-sere

The original version of this Today’s Word was published on 1 January 2006.  For a complete look at the verses of the 23^rd Psalm as they appeared in Today’s Word, click here.

Are Lacking – David knows the God who provides.  Abraham knows the God who permits.  “I shall not want” uses the same verb as “fifty lacking five”.  What does this tell us about the character of God?  It tells us that the One who can provide all that we need is also the One who can deal with all of our failures.  Abraham’s negotiation to save the city of Sodom is a remarkable story of God’s true mercy.  It is Abraham who stops negotiating at ten righteous men, not God.  Have you ever wondered what might have happened if Abraham had kept going until he reached just one righteous man?  What we learn is that God bends over backwards to be merciful to those who deserve judgment.  Our lack does not affect His provision.

Does your life come up a little short?  Mine does.  It’s not what I thought it would be.  I am not all the man I wanted to be.  My struggles are more than I hoped they would be.  I am the one lacking.  I’m just a little short of where I should be and that little gap is all that is necessary to make my life much harder than I wanted.  If I lived in Sodom, I would have needed Abraham to keep on negotiating.

Do you suppose that David remembered Abraham’s conversation with the God who lacks nothing when he used this word in his most famous psalm?  How could he not have thought about it?  David lived in Sodom too.  His life didn’t measure up.  But His God did.  The God who lacks nothing is able to provide the man who lacks everything.  The God who has no shortfall of mercy is able to forgive the man who has considerable shortfall of righteousness.

Have you ever noticed that when one part of your life is just perfect, some other part seems to start collapsing.  We all seem to have kaw-sere (lack) built into our lives.  And for good reason.  Human being (the state of being a human) is dependent being.  We are not designed to have it all together.  We are designed to be in need.  That’s why David’s psalm resonates so deeply within us.  Our eternal hope is to “not want” but our temporal destiny is to be lacking.

Is your heart bent on removing the lack in your life?  Have you pushed yourself to the limit trying to bridge the gap?  Do you know the angst of “shortfall”?  Then go to the God of lo’ ekaw-sere.  Throw yourself entirely on the God of “not want”.  Abandon to Him.  Any bridge you build will still not reach other side.  After all, you’re only human.  lo’ ekaw-sere is an attribute only of the divine.

Not Want – I can think of no more appropriate place to begin a new year than with the words “not want” (lo’ ekaw-sere).  Isn’t that what we all hope for?  To live in this world without want.  No matter what else we believe, this seems to be the universal plea of our souls.  Atheist, agnostic or religious follower of any god, not one of us desires a life of continual want.  We may not aspire to riches, but we do desire life without emptiness.

David sees that the only real answer to the gnawing within is the work of the shepherd.  He recognizes that I am not able to fill the voids with my own hand.  This, of course, is a fundamental tenant of the Way (I could call it a fundamental tenant of Christianity but that might lead us to conclude that God somehow changed His character with the coming of the Messiah.  He didn’t.  This is good Jewish theology as well.  In fact, today it often appears that “Christianity” no longer fully embraces this pivotal idea.  As the good bishop from Africa remarked, “I had no idea that the [American] church could accomplish so much without God.”).  My kaw-sere (lack) is removed by the shepherd, not by me.  He is the one who provides what I need.  He feeds.  I follow.

But we all knew this, didn’t we?  We have known this for ages, ever since we memorized this verse when we were children.  If you or your children haven’t memorized this absolutely basic bit about God, then do it now.  This is the first step of a real emotional theology.  You see, we all intellectually agree with David’s statement, but we rarely make it the inner pillar of life support when our emotions send us down the path of empty desires.  We have a God of propositions, a God of shepherd-theory, not a God who picks us up and actually carries us to green pasture.  Most of the time, we entertain a God who we believe knows how to help, but seems unwilling to do so.  And why should He?  We are too quick to take care of ourselves.

This year I will not be seduced by religious theory.  This year I want a God who holds me in his arms when I cry, who shelters me when the storms howl, who sets that table before me when my enemies are ready to attack and who loves me even when I fail.

My wants are deep.  As I write these words, I feel them tugging at my soul.  Loneliness.  Discouragement.  Disappointment.  Failure.  Hopelessness.  Confusion.  Angst.  The caverns of human plight are dark, foreboding and cold.  I cannot survive them without the real, live, present Shepherd.  If God cannot care for my emotions, then I will forever be lacking.  Life is more than health and wealth.

Do you have a Shepherd or do you merely acknowledge a God of shepherd-theory while you run off to the therapist or the prayer group?