The Shadow of Death

Psalm 23 is one part of the Bible that everyone seems to know, even those who do not attend church. I've heard it read at funerals, in hospitals, and at other formal gatherings. Though there are many things that can be said about the psalm -- in fact, it's taking me several months to go through it on Sunday mornings right now -- the pivotal verse of the whole psalm would have to be verse 4a, Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for Thou art with me.



Not everyone in David's time thought of death as a shadow. Most of them saw it as people see it today, a brick wall, a deep pit, a thing of horrible fear and destruction. But David saw it as a shadow. Years ago, I was crossing a parking lot in the Metroplex when the shadow of a 747 passed over me, angling in for a landing at Dallas/Fort Worth Airport. While startling when not expected, the shadow did me no harm. A 747 could have done so, but the shadow was just a short moment of surprise. I jumped, but did nothing else.



For those of us who believe, death passes over us like a shadow. The Lord took the hit from the 747 when He paid the once-for-all price for our sin. Jesus took on the terror of death so we would not have to. One more thing about shadows: they are proof that light is on the other side of the object. The Shadow of Death tells me that there is more light on the other side of death than there is here.



Interestingly, Psalm 23 begins in the third person. The Lord is "He," this and "He," that. But after the valley of the shadow of death, He becomes "You." There is no coincidence in this transition from third person to first. When we face our death, and know we "fear no evil," God's continuing presence takes over. We have stopped knowing "about" God, and started knowing Him personally.



Finally, I like what the verse really says about fearing no evil. Most English translations say something like "Because You are with me." A Hebrew scholar can tell you that the actual phrase is thou art with my hand. I've never understood why that didn't get included with the translation. I remember the security of holding my father's hand in a dangerous time, and I have since been a father and experienced the security I could give a child by just holding a hand. I have felt my son's hand tighten on mine as I entered a dark room. It is nice to know that, when I finally have to face that valley of the shadow of death, I will have a Hand to hold, a Hand of Someone who has already made multiple crossings of that valley, and knows the path.