The twenty-third psalm is the nightingale of the psalms. It is small, of a homely feather, singing shyly out of obscurity; but, O, it has filled the air of the whole world with melodious joy, greater than the heart can conceive. It will go singing to your children and my children, and to their children, through all the generations of time; nor will it fold its wings till the last pilgrim is safe, and time ended; and then it shall fly back to the bosom of God, whence it issued, and sound on, mingled with all those sounds of celestial joy which make heaven musical forever. –Henry Ward Beecher
Even the most uninitiated worshiper will have noticed that all of today’s communion music is based on the 23rd Psalm. While that would seem a bit excessive with any other scripture, I doubt anyone will tire of singing this one. No other Psalm has captured the imagination of worshipers like Psalm 23. Its words have comforted countless grieving and dying. It has inspired thousands of hymns. It, along with the Lord’s Prayer, is by far the most memorized passage of the Bible.
Interestingly, it didn’t become the “greatest hit” of the Psalter until after the Civil War. William Holladay, in The Psalms through Three Thousand Years, suggests that Psalm 23’s popularity was triggered by a short meditation called “The Singing Pilgrim” (above) written by Henry Ward Beecher, which first appeared in print in 1904. Holladay argues that the Psalm’s place as an “American secular icon” was further solidified by three interwoven developments: “the shift from the old Calvinist theology into both liberal theology and individualistic evangelicalism; the feminization and sentimentalization of both church and culture; and the continued evolution of ‘civil religion.'” Be that as it may, Psalm 23 has certainly come to represent all things sacred in popular culture, appearing in the TV show Lost, Coolio’s radio hit “Gangsta’s Paradise,” and the movie The Elephant Man. Psalm 23 has come to represent the unconditional love and eternal protection for which all humans long.
For Christians, the Psalm has even deeper meaning. We imagine ourselves in the role of the sheep—sheep who have gone astray, but who are ultimately God’s people, the sheep of his pasture. We take comfort in the providence described in the Psalm. Though we can’t read the connotation of Shepherd/King that the Psalmist intended, we do get a sense of God’s rule and guidance in the Psalm, and sing it as such in “The King of Love My Shepherd Is.” And of course, we have faith in the Good Shepherd; a Shepherd who leaves the ninety-nine to search for one lost sheep, who calls his sheep by name, and who lays down his life for the sheep as the sacrificial Lamb of God.
For centuries, Christians have interpreted Psalm 23 in sacramental terms—we enter God’s kingdom through the still waters of baptism, our heads are anointed with the oil of the Spirit, and we are invited to share a table with the Good Shepherd. Our communion cup–or “unction” as one hymn calls it–overflows with grace. Even on our darkest days, we can feast on the promise of an eternal banquet. So we sing Psalm 23 today. We sing of God’s unfailing love here on earth, his table that extends from today until eternity, and the comfort that the Good Shepherd holds his sheep forever.