Shepherd in the Dark

A sermon for the Fourth Sunday of Easter
May 11, 2025, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs, AR

Readings: Psalm 23, John 10:22-30

“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.” The after school and summer program I attended as a child had bribed us. If we learned the Lord’s Prayer and Psalm 23, we could pick a prize. I learned them quickly. I remember sitting down with both prayers, and I had them by the end of the night. And the prayers came in handy sooner than I thought they would. It was early in the morning, still dark outside. I was in the backseat of the car and Mom was driving to the hospital. I would have surgery that morning and I was scared. When you’re seven they put you at the top of the schedule for the day; we had to be there by 5. I prayed two things. Prayer 1: Jesus, if you’re coming back, before my surgery would be a good time. Prayer 2: “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.”  

Today is Good Shepherd Sunday, and we hear some familiar passages of Scripture. Every fourth week in Easter we hear passages with this image of the shepherd. We read Psalm 23, which promises that God is the shepherd who walks with us in dark canyons, even in the valley of the shadow of death, when we feel under attack and vulnerable. The shepherd is with us. We hear Jesus’s words. He says he is the shepherd, the good shepherd, who lays down his life for the sheep. Today he says, “My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand.” 

In a world of conflict, a world of change and chance, these are comforting words. These words contain a promise: That God will not forget, will not abandon. For the Shepherd leads us in paths we cannot imagine. Not only in verdant pastures and beside still waters, but also in dangerous places, in dark paths where there is no light. 

That car ride to the hospital was probably the first time I prayed Psalm 23 silently to myself. It would not be the last. I have prayed it countless times since, not only to myself but with others, as they walk through the unimaginable, in times of pain and heartache, beside the sick and dying.

Before seminary I was a hospital chaplain intern in Springdale for a year. I responded to every emergency call. One such call had taken me down to the emergency department. A family was walking into one of their darkest days. The doctor on call and I met with them in the consulting room to make a hard decision–the only decision. The decision made, the doctor got up and left. But before the family and I went to their loved one’s bedside, we sat in silence. After a period of quiet, one of them looked at me. She saw my Prayer Book-Bible in my hand. “Is there anything in that book that might help me?” I nodded, and we prayed:

The LORD is my shepherd; *
I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; *
he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul; *
he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his Name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil; *
for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; *
thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, *
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.

We all, each of us, walk through this world with a deep fear: That at the last, we will be alone. I don’t necessarily mean alone in a room as we draw our final breath. What I mean is that when we close our eyes for the last time, we will meet nothing. That’s the fear. But Holy Scripture gives us a promise. Jesus himself gives us a promise. When we go into those dark places, down deep valleys, on quiet car rides, into consulting rooms off the ER, into the darkness of grief and sorrow, and even into the grave itself; when we fear that there will be no one there to hold our hand, the Good Shepherd is there. He’s always there. 

When we don’t follow like Jesus says we do; when we go off trail; when we get distracted and go our own way; when we cut out anything and anyone who might call us to life; and when we find ourselves trapped in the valley of death and the only thing we can see if enemies all around, the Good Shepherd is there, pursuing us, calling our name in grace and mercy, binding up our wounds, carrying us home. 

When hope is lost and despair sets in; when depression is our closest friend; when goodness seems like a pipe dream and healing a fantasy; when we feel trapped and alone, the Good Shepherd is there, waiting patiently, love in his eyes. He is there with a simple message: You are loved, no matter what; you belong to him, no matter what; and he will never let you go, no matter what.