My Shepherd Will Supply My Need

You know, I really, really wish that I had a good singing voice. Or that I could play an instrument (I played handbells at church when I was a teenager, but had to mark the notes in red for my left hand and green for my right--so that doesn't really count). I know that God has given me many and varied gifts, but music is not one of them--at least not the ability to play it or make it. But God has given me the gift of loving music. From the very first time I heard the Indigo Girls over 20 years ago, I have loved them. There is something about their lyrics and their harmony and their message that still moves me to this day. I love the music from Broadway musicals--from the story of struggling artists who live and love as each day is their last in "Rent" to the idea of how quickly we can judge folks and deem them as "Wicked," to the story of war and love and revolution that is told in "Les Miserables."

Music is something that is so dear to my heart, and no music moves me more than hymns. For me, Advent does not truly begin until we sing "Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus" (even sang it during my ordination service), and Good Friday does not truly happen until we sing "Were You There?" One hymn will always hold a special place in my heart because it was sung at the funerals of two women whom I loved dearly--one of my second moms, Jeanne Isaacs, and my Granny. The last verse of "Love Divine, All Loves Excelling" is sung this way: "Finish then, thy new creation, pure and spotless let us be. Let us see thy new salvation, perfecly restored in thee. Changed from glory into glory, til in heaven we take our place. Til we cast our crowns before thee, lost in wonder, love and grace." Kind of shines a new light on the meaning of resurrection, doesn't it?

These hymns hold a very special place in my heart, but a new one jumped out at me during our worship today at First Pres., Auburn. I'm not sure why it moved me so, but it did. Here are the words:


My Shepherd will supply my need; Jehovah is His Name. In pastures fresh He makes me feed, beside the living stream. He brings my wandering spirit back when I forsake His ways, and leads me, for His mercy’s sake, in paths of truth and grace.

When I walk through the shades of death, thy presence is my stay; one word of Your supporting breath drives all my fears away. Your hand, in sight of all my foes, does still my table spread; my cup with blessings overflows, Your oil anoints my head.

The sure provisions of my God attend me all my days; O may Your house be my abode, and all my work be praise. There would I find a settled rest, while others go and come; no more a stranger, or a guest, but like a child at home.


I really don't know why it moved me so much today or struck me the way it did. Perhaps it's because I've been thinking so much about our Muslim brothers and sisters in the light of the New York Muslim community center--and because of this crazy pastor in Florida who thought he could and should use religion as a wedge to further divide and alienate us from each other. Where he sees "foes" in Muslims, I see "guests," guests who should be welcomed at the table instead of thrown away from it. This hymn helped me verbalize what I've been feeling for some time now--that God sets a table for all of us, welcomes us, anoints us, and calls us home, and that, instead of fighting each other to the point of alienation over our differences, we should sit down and eat and talk and share about what unites us.

Maybe this hymn moved me so much today because I've been thinking about my friend Drew, one of my students, who took his own life almost 3 years ago now. I actually have thought about him every day since then, but my thoughts have intensified over the past few weeks. One of my students and I were talking about that whole experience the other day, and I told him that I wouldn't have made it through those long months after the funeral without the help and support of my faith community--that when I couldn't say affirmations of faith, my community said them for me. When I didn't even have the energy to say a prayer, my faith community said them for me. This hymn helped me to realize that, when I walked through the shades of death, God was present for me in the form of so many folks who asked me how I was doing, folks who said prayers for me, people who hugged me or simply sat with me as my tears fell. They were God's "supporting breath" for me. The faith community was and is a "blessing" for me, and Drew's brother, Daniel (who is now an awesome PSFer at Auburn) is certainly a blessing through is faithfulness. Now that I think about it, God did bring my wandering spirit back and provided me with living water. And God is still at work, providing that living water in my times of doubt and questions and in my times of wander.

There is just something that moved me about this hymn today. Who knows--maybe it will happen again next week. Maybe it won't. But I'll be listening--and singing!