Stress
Use the material to go deeper into this Series on your own, or with your small group.
Series Materials
Good morning Chapel family! We’re taking this summer to walk through the Psalms, which was the original song book of Israel. We’ve been saying every week that the Psalms touch on the full range of human emotions, so they really affirm our experience as humans. But they don’t stop there, because they show us how those emotions can be a pathway to finding God more fully.
So today we come to a Psalm that’s all about dealing with stress. I know none of us need this, but I’m just sharing this so you can pass it on to your friends. No, we all need this, right? Because of Ukraine and inflation and politics and protests and pandemics and microchip shortages and a million other things, we are living in a highly stressful world. I have not flown on an airplane in several months. But I’ve heard that airports are just craziness lately—have you guys been flying? Tons of canceled flights and long lines and angry customers. We’re living in a stressful time.
So today we’re going to look at a Psalm that’s all about stress. This might actually be the most famous of all the Psalms: Psalm 23. The writer of this Psalm was King David, and David knew stress. He had faced an unusual amount of hard things. But he had figured out a way to keep the stress of life from crushing him…and that’s what he talks about in this Psalm. So…let’s read the Psalm together, and I’m actually going to read it in the English Standard Version, because it’s a little closer to the traditional wording. So I invite you now to hear the Word of God…
1 The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. 2 He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. 3 He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
4 Even 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.
5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. 6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever. This is the Word of the Lord.
You probably know that David started out as a shepherd—he spent his teenage years taking care of sheep. And then he spent his adult life leading and shepherding people, as the king of Israel. So here’s what I’ve found: if you are a person who leads others—whether it’s in business, or in a classroom, or
in ministry, or in your family—if you’re a shepherd of others, it’s easy to forget that you need a shepherd too.
This is highly personal for David. He says, “The Lord is my shepherd.” Not just “a shepherd.” He’s mine. I don’t just know things about this God; I know Him—like I know my wife, or a close friend. And even better, He knows me. It’s so personal. And here’s the whole point: it’s that personal connection—that intimate, personal knowledge of God—that’s the secret of handling stress. It’s the secret of living in a stressful world without being a stressed-out person. It has to be personal.
So in this Psalm, he talks about how the Lord being his shepherd guards him from three different kinds of stress. See if you can relate to one of those, or maybe all three. What does it mean to have God as your shepherd when you’re facing these three kinds of stress?
The first kind is Exhaustion. Look at verses 2 and 3:
2 He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. 3a He restores my soul.
The primary job of a shepherd is, obviously, to take care of sheep. And one of the main things sheep need is a place where they can rest and graze on fresh grass and drink clean water. As a teenager, David had done that for his sheep countless times—he led them to those places. And he says, “Now, I realize I need that. Just like I restored my sheep, I’m learning to let God restore me.”
What percentage of American workers, do you think, show up to work every day feeling tired? About three-quarters—nearly 75% of us get to work in the morning, exhausted. That’s from a 2018 study. Are you one of those people? You walk into work, and you’re like, “Man, I need a nap.” That’s not good. Another study showed that 43% of American workers come to work too exhausted to do their job effectively. Guys, that’s scary.
So some of our exhaustion is physical. We simply don’t rest enough. And David says, “That’s why God makes me lie down.” If I told you to go home and go to bed early tonight, some of you literally couldn’t do it. Right? You would say, “You’re crazy.” Or how about this: if I said, “Next week, you need to take an entire day, and not accomplish anything—no work projects, no house projects; just hang out.” Most of you would laugh at me.
I believe that we modern Christians don’t focus nearly enough on the concept of Sabbath. Now, because we are no longer under the Old Covenant, we aren’t required to observe any particular 24-hour period—the New Testament makes that clear. But the concept of Sabbath very much applies to us. It is so important to have a rhythm in our lives where we work, work, work…and then we stop work and allow God to restore us. So for me, a big part of spiritual growth has been to intentionally plan time—sometimes a full day, sometimes more like a half a day, to not work. To spend unhurried time in Scripture and prayer; maybe walk the dog; watch a movie; read a book; get together with friends; take a long hike; go fishing; eat some great food with my wife; and this is really important—stay off social media. It actually sounds pretty good, doesn’t it? It is. It takes some planning and intentionality, but it’s so worth it. It’s so soul-restoring.
So some of our exhaustion is physical. But some of it is emotional and spiritual. Sydney Pollack was a great film director who died a few years ago. And when he was getting old, and getting sick, he couldn’t stop working. And his family pled with him, “You have to slow down; you have to take a break from it.” But he wouldn’t do it. And he said, quote, “Every time I finish a movie, I feel like I’ve earned
my stay for another year or so.” But then the feeling would wear off, and he’d have to do it again, to justify his existence. To prove he was acceptable.
Can you relate to that? Like, you can’t feel okay, unless you’re producing at work, or exercising, or improving something on your house. And all those things are good…but they can also enslave you. And I truly believe the reason many of us are exhausted isn’t because we need physical rest; we need spiritual rest. We’re trying to prove that we are successful or worthy or good enough. And it doesn’t matter how much success we achieve—just ask highly accomplished people: it’s never enough.
There’s a really important verse in the book of Hebrews that says this: for anyone who enters God’s rest also rests from their works, just as God did from his. It’s talking about an approach to life where you find your identity and your value not in what you accomplish, but in what Christ accomplished for you. You rest in him. That’s why you’re good enough. At the deepest level, that’s who you are. What a relief! And that’s the kind of rest David is talking about in Psalm 23: deep rest for your soul.
I was recently out for a bike ride, and after a few minutes I noticed I was breathing hard, and it was hard to peddle, and the whole thing was just more difficult than it usually is. So I looked down, and I noticed the problem: the tires were low. They needed air. I hadn’t intentionally let air out; it just slipped out. That’s just what happens to tires over time. And they weren’t flat; they were just low enough to make it harder than it should have been. So I was thinking about that, and I realized that life is like a bike tire. We don’t intentionally let the air out; it just leaves. And things get harder. It takes too much effort to do simple things—do you ever feel like that? Like, “Oh—I have to refill the water in the coffee maker—it’s exhausting!” We get deflated, and life feels like a grind. “I finally made it to work. I need a nap!” The air just slips out, and we’re exhausted.
And the question is: “Where are you being re-inflated?” And here’s what David is saying: I have found the secret to re-inflating my tires. It’s realizing that I’m a sheep, and God is my shepherd. And sometimes, when my exhaustion is physical, it means hearing the shepherd’s call to lie down: a nap; getting to bed early; taking some time for Sabbath. Realizing the world won’t fall apart without me. And when my exhaustion is spiritual, I return again to the gospel. And I’m reminded that I am a beloved son or daughter of the king. And nothing I could accomplish today could change that status. And you feel your soul being restored.
Okay…let’s talk about the second kind of stress: Confusion. Look at the second part of verse 3: He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. If you were a sheep, and you looked out on the world, there would be all kinds of options. An infinite number of paths you could take; all kinds of different fields you could graze in. It could be overwhelming. But it’s not. Because a sheep’s one job is to listen for the voice of their shepherd, and just follow.
There’s a seminary professor out in Chicago named Bill Donahue. Back when he was studying for the ministry he was a part-time youth pastor in a country church. And one of the families in the church invited him to their farm. So the guy who owned the farm said, “Hey Bill—could you help me call in the sheep?” He looked over the fence, and he saw about 25 sheep grazing in the pasture. And Bill said, “What do I say?” The farmer said, “Well, I just say, ‘Hey sheep—come on in!’” So Bill turned toward the sheep and he said, “Hey sheep—come on in!” The farmer said, “Those sheep are 75 yards away. You have to say it louder than that.” So Bill shouted, “Hey sheep—come on in!” They didn’t budge. They didn’t even turn their heads.
So the farmer said, “Do they even teach you the Bible in that seminary? And he quoted Jesus from the Gospel of John. He said, “Haven’t you ever read, My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me? And then the farmer said, very calmly, “Hey sheep—come on in.” All 25 sheep turned and
walked toward him. And that young pastor never forgot that lesson. The true Shepherd knows his sheep, and his sheep know him. And they follow where he leads.
So what does this mean for us? We are living in, probably, the most confusing time in human history. How many voices, do you think, are shouting at you in a typical week? There was just an article in the Huffington Post that says your average Internet user sees about 2,700 ads per week. Just online. Not counting TV, billboards, radio. And that’s just ads. Then there’s all the other stuff you read online, and the thousands of images and photos you see. And then there’s the actual voices of teachers and politicians and news casters and friends and bosses and co-workers. It’s crazy. It’s confusing and stressful. Wouldn’t it be amazing if there were this one clear, true voice that rose above the others? So in the midst of all those voices, you could say, “That’s the voice I listen to.”
Do you realize we can have that relationship with Jesus? It’s not an instant thing, and it’s not a magical thing. But as we spend time in Scripture, and in prayer, and did you notice—this comes after we allow him to lie us down in green pastures—so you won’t learn to hear his voice if you’re never quiet and still. But over time, we become attuned to his voice. And you’ll hear some voice out there—maybe it’s somebody on social media, or maybe even a preacher on television, and you’ll go, “That’s not the voice of my shepherd.” Right? “That’s not consistent with Jesus.” You’ll recognize his voice more and more. And it’ll help you make hard decisions, and it’ll help you to choose your path in life. In the midst of confusion, you’ll have clarity.
Okay. The third kind of stress is Fear. Look at verse 4:
4 Even 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.
In the course of a sheep’s life, it’s common for them to find themselves in dangerous circumstances. Sometimes the danger comes from the physical terrain—like sharp drop-offs where you could fall into a crevice or into a river; sometimes the danger comes from predators, like wolves or lions; sometimes the danger comes from the weather—the Middle East is known for freezing cold nights and scorching hot days. So it would be easy for a sheep to be overcome by fear.
Can you relate to that? I can. Maybe it’s partially because of my job as a pastor: I get reminded all the time that bad things really do happen to people. As I just look back over the recent past, I think about people who’ve had divorce papers served to them. I think about people who’ve been diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease, and others with Alzheimer’s. I think about people who’ve lost family members to car accidents, and some to suicide. I think about people who are wrestling with addiction and agonizing over sexual identity, and people whose hearts are broken because their kids have rejected their faith in God. And that’s just personal stuff; there’s the whole broader world of school shootings and terrorism and war.
So when David talks about walking through the valley of the shadow of death, we know what that feels like, don’t we? Some of us more intensely than others, but we all live here. And because all of that is reality, it would be so easy to live in fear. But you need to see three things.
First, all of this darkness is being experienced by sheep who are following the guidance of their shepherd. Right? They’re not in this dark valley because they’ve wandered off the path. They’re going exactly where their shepherd is leading them. Listen: sometimes, in order for the Shepherd to lead us
where he needs us to go, that path leads through dark places. It doesn’t mean we’re out of his will. Right now, your life might feel really dark, and you might be exactly where God wants you. Does that make sense? Just because it’s dark, doesn’t mean you’re out of God’s will.
Here's the second thing: When life is dark, you might think, “How could God possibly want to lead me to this place?” And anytime we think that way, we have to change one word. You know which word? The word “to.” God has not led you “to” that dark place. What does verse 4 say? “Though I walk…what? Through the valley of the shadow of death. Your ultimate destination is not the valley. Your ultimate destination is not the shadow. But sometimes God leads you through it, to take you where you need to go.
Here’s the third thing, and this is the most important thing. David says, “When I’m in those dark places, I don’t give in to fear, and ultimately, here’s why: you are with me.” To me, those are the most powerful words in the whole Psalm.
There’s a well-known American poet named Christian Wiman; he teaches up at Yale. But on his 39th birthday, he was diagnosed with an incurable form of blood cancer. And he didn’t know how to deal with it. He had grown up in a Christian family, but he said that his faith had, quote, “evaporated in the blast of modernism and secularism to which I was exposed in college.” But when the cancer diagnosis came, he started searching. And it wasn’t a particular doctrine that drew him back to faith; it was far more personal. Here’s how he describes it: “I am a Christian because of that moment on the cross when Jesus, drinking the very dregs of human bitterness, cries out, ‘My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me.’ … The point is that God is with us, not beyond us, in suffering.”
See, when we are in the darkest valleys, and our pain is so intense and so isolating, we don’t want theological answers. We need a person. We need to know the Jesus who understands suffering, and we need to be able to say, “He is with me.” And actually, it’s better than that. Did you notice what it actually says in Psalm 23:4? It doesn’t say, “He is with me.” What does it say? You are with me. For the first time in this Psalm, he shifts from talking about God, and all of a sudden he’s talking to God. It goes from an explanation to a prayer. You are with me.
Next verse: You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
What do we usually want God to do with our enemies? Get rid of them! Right? “Lord, take this annoying person out of my life! A job transfer…early retirement…upgrade them to a better neighborhood—whatever you want; just take them away from me!” Does this say that God gets rid of your enemies? Nope. Just like he doesn’t take away the shadows and the valleys. So what does he do? Right there in the presence of my enemies, he provides for me. He prepares a table before me; he overflows my cup. In other words, this is not a Psalm of escape. It’s very realistic about the dangers and enemies in every person’s life, and it teaches us how to walk in that with courage and peace because you know your shepherd.
Can you honestly say you know him, on a personal level? Because when you do, it changes the way you look at the big picture of your life. Look how he sums it all up in the last verse:
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever.
“Goodness and mercy will follow me.” That word “follow” is a Hebrew word that also means “pursue” or “chase.” It’s a very active and determined kind of following. And what that means is that God is not just a shepherd who refreshes you and guides you and protects you; if you stray from him, listen: he’s coming after you. He loves you that much. So if you wander from him, he will pursue you—just like any good shepherd would. And some of you know this really well, right? You could tell stories of walking away from God, and he didn’t give up on you. He came after you, and he put people in your life, and he put circumstances in your life, and he kept reminding you that life without him is a dead end. Some of you have been there right? Maybe that’s where you are right now.
Surely goodness and mercy will pursue me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. When you’re part of his flock—when he’s your shepherd—there’s a deep confidence about the future. And that leads me to the final question: are you part of his flock? Have you made this personal? Can you truly say, like David, “The Lord is my shepherd?” See, it doesn’t just happen automatically; there’s a decision to be made about Jesus. In the Gospel of John, it says, “To those who receive him…to them he gives the right to become children of God.” Maybe you’ve never received him. Or maybe you have, but you’ve pushed him away. And you can feel him pursuing you, but you need to respond to his pursuit. Every one of us needs to make this personal. So before we receive communion today, I want to give you the opportunity to personally receive Christ, if you’ve never taken that step.