A Shepherd's Advice

Yesterday, our son walked across the stage in his cap and gown, and said good-bye to high school. It is a bittersweet moment to say the least. Fraught with joyous anxiety.
 
I remember taking that journey when I was his age. The possibilities seemed endless. I discovered, as I am sure our son will too, that diploma wasn’t just proof that I could finish something.

It’s a passport into the sacred unknown, a launching pad into the next becoming.
 
But let’s be honest—new beginnings, even joyful ones, can be both beautiful and disorienting.  

​I’d like to say it gets easier with age, but it doesn’t. Yet, if you pay careful attention, remain present right here, right now you’ll begin to see and embrace the challenges you will face knowing they don’t set you back but advance you forward across many different stages, earning all sorts of degrees.

So, if I were to give any advice, it would be simply this…keep your eye on the one who leads you. Which takes us to our reading today. An ancient poem, whispered across centuries, that offers us hope and courage, for every stage of life.

Psalm 23.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
   He makes me lie down in green pastures;
he leads me beside still waters;
    he restores my soul.
He leads me in right paths
    for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
    I fear no evil,
for you are with me;
    your rod and your staff,
    they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me
    in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil;
    my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
    all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord
    my whole life long.

While waiting for my flight out of  Seattle last week, I saw a someone wearing a shirt that said, “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”

And not far behind this person was someone else wearing a shirt that said, “Good luck, you’re on your own.” It seemed to be the Holy Spirit’s way of telling what scripture to teach on today.
 
More than a funeral favorite, Psalm 23 is a traveler’s song—a shepherd’s poem for people figuring it out as they go.

It opens with a quiet, profound truth: that we are never alone or on our own. We have a Shepherd with us. One who knows our names. Our anxious heartbeats. A shepherd who is behind us, picking up the pieces. And who’s two steps ahead, preparing the path and lighting the way.
 
If you ask me, that’s all the good luck we need. Whether you’re heading off to college or on your way to work, God is always with you because, like scripture tells us, God is in you.

You have God’s divine image etched on your heart, and that’s enough to navigate this messy, sacred thing called life.

There’s an old Hasidic story that says God is like a flame hidden in coal… that’s waiting for our breath to burn bright. When the road ahead feels uncertain, don’t panic. Just breathe. And remember who’s leading you. A Good Shepherd who “leads you to still waters; restores your soul.”
 
Let’s not skip past that too quickly. The world will always demand a lot from us: move faster, work harder, prove your worth. It even offers ladders that don’t always lead somewhere.
 
We need rest. Deep rest. Not as a reward for our effort, but as a necessity for our souls.

These green pastures and still waters are how your soul breathes. How your heart remains present. How you stay grounded and human in a world that keeps asking us to be machines.
 
Jesus often steps away from the crowds to rest, to pray, to simply be. He invites us to do the same. He says, “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest.” Or as my dad likes to say, “At my age, happy hour is a nap.”
 
This is sacred time spent, not being lazy but being restored and refreshed by God. We what Anamesa to be a sanctuary for the weary. A holy, in-between space where God meets us, tends to us, and restores us. I call that salvation.
 
Whether you’re a student or sojourner or something in between, always seek places and people that offer refreshment for your spirit. And restoration for your soul.It could be the woods or a beach. A class outside your major or interest. It could be just catching up with a friend you like being around. These are your green pastures. Return to them often. Because when your soul is at rest, your light burns brighter.
 
You might recall in John’s gospel Christ is called “the light of the world.” Jesus says the same to us. He says, “You are the light of the world.” 

Rest is recharging your spiritual battery so you can do what Jesus needs you to do: Be the light who guides others home to God’s heart.
 
The desert fathers left us with this advice: “Do not follow someone who points the way but does not walk it.” Jesus, the one John calls “the Good Shepherd” doesn’t just show us the way to live. He is the way that “leads us in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.”
 
Out in the world you will see there are many paths to take. Eventually you will come to a fork and will have to figure out which way to go. The popular path crowded with people and distractions. Or the quieter, less traveled path filled with depth and meaning.

​We are free to walk down either one. But when we follow Jesus, we know the path we’re on will always lead to goodness, grace, and God’s own glory.
 
This is the narrow way, Jesus talks about. A way of humility, kindness, and mercy. A way that isn’t about perfection but presence. Take my advice and follow the Shepherd, whose rod and staff will guide you safely to where you’re needed. It might not always be the place you want to go, but with him leading the way we can “walk through the darkest valley,” fearlessly.
 
And trust me, there will be dark valleys. Days when plans unravel, when friends ghost you, when your heart aches in places no one else can see. But take it from me… these dark valleys don’t destroy you, they deepen you.
 
St. John of the Cross calls these moments “the dark night of the soul” An invitation to find your true self, deepen your faith, and ignite that light of God flickering within you. So when you find yourself in these dark places, don’t try to fake your way through it. Don’t numb the ache or pretend you’re fine, when clearly you’re not. Just keep walking. Keep breathing. Keep trusting. If you feel lost along the way, remember that Jesus said the Shepherd will leave the ninety-nine to find the one. And when you’re found, a party is thrown in your honor!
 
The Shepherd preparing a table “in the presence of my enemies.” Talk about radical hospitality. That’s the way of Jesus. The way the kingdom of heaven comes to life right before our eyes. And this table God prepares for you isn’t some exclusive dinner where you gloat while others watch from afar. God isn’t that petty. Or small. Everyone is invited: friends, strangers, even those who judged or excluded you.
 
More than a table, this is a joyful feast of mercy and grace—where even those you once feared or resented are seated beside you. This table, God’s table, is where bread is broken, feet are washed, heads anointed with oil, and cups overflow. This is where everyone belongs. And no one is left empty.
 
So, just as God has made room for you, make sure you make room for others—friend and foe alike. And pay special attention to those the world has pushed aside or kicked to the curb. Because Jesus tells these are the one’s who will be served first. We are all invaluable to God.
And not because of what you do. Your value comes from who you are. Henri Nouwen said it plainly: “You are the Beloved. That’s the truth, whether you believe it or not.”
 
When we live into our belovedness, life begins to overflow—not with stuff, but with joy. With gratitude. With an awareness that even in an imperfect world, we are being held by a perfect, deeply personal, divine love. Wherever you are on this journey—be it miles down the road or just stepping off the curb—the Shepherd walks with you.
 
You don’t need luck, because God knows you. God has you. God loves you just as you are. And out of this great love, “goodness and mercy shall follow you all the days of your life…”
 
So go, rejoice, and rejoice often. This is how to celebrate life and honor God. This is how “we dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” You will get a lot of advice and opinions on how to find this house. But here’s what I hope you will remember after you leave here today. You’ll know this house, God’s house, by its welcome and embrace. By its generous grace and tender forgiveness. By its light and by its love.
 
Somewhere I once read, “The house of the Lord is wherever love has the final word.” (Someone should put that on a shirt.) Love always has the final word. Not judgement, not shame or guilt, just love. The kind that builds a community together in the space between loving  God and others, as we serve both. This isn’t something we just say, or have printed on the back of our church t-shirts. It’s something we must live, even when it’s hard to do at times.
 
Love is who Jesus is. And the very soul of who we are. Let us take this invitation to be who God made us to be - holy and beloved. And follow the Shepherd who believes in us more than we believe in ourselves.
 
As we take the next step forward, let us walk together with forgiveness and grace, to build God’s house together with love. And let us live together in such a way that goodness and mercy will overflow all the days long.