Did Grandma Have Enemies?

by

I don’t know if the 23rd Psalm has ever helped me. I’m not sure I’ve used it as a source of comfort in a time of trial or tribulation. I understand how and why it offers a sense of spiritual solace. At every funeral service I’ve led, I’ve recited those words during the funeral, listened to them read by a family member, printed them in a bulletin, or said them over a graveside. I associate the 23rd Psalm with death, loss, suffering, and grief. It is in this context I have encountered these timeless words. This is why Psalm 23 has never helped me or brought me comfort. The words trigger a sense of desperation and sadness. I have never heard them read in a time of joy or hope. For me, they mark the end of someone’s Christian journey. They bring me down. Instead of comfort, they feel hollow.

People aren’t thinking about what they’re mumbling. They know these words meant something to Grandma and were underlined in her Bible, and she mentioned something years ago about having them read at her funeral, but that’s all. To the grieving family, the words are a magic formula mumbled through tears. I stand there wondering who Grandma’s enemies were and in whose presence the Lord laid out a table to serve her lunch or dinner. After all, I’ve just heard eulogy after eulogy saying that Grandma had no enemies. Everyone loved Grandma. I’ll repeat it: Grandma had no enemies. No one was chasing Grandma through the valley of death. This central part of the 23rd Psalm had no connection to anyone in the churches I served.

Did the Biblical text need to connect with the life of the deceased (or the family) for it to be read at the service in which we commit someone’s soul to the afterlife? Should the Bible's words apply to the life of the deceased? I say yes. Maybe I was raised differently, but if the Lord is our Shepherd, the rest of the poem should also apply to our lives. It doesn’t. It makes me uncomfortable when we choose which parts of scripture give us warm fuzzies and which we ignore. The only requirement for reading the 23rd Psalm at a funeral is for someone to like it, feel comforted by the fact Grandma liked it, and enjoy listening to the words being read.

It is time to think critically about the 23rd Psalm. Does it do what it’s supposed to do? Does it help and give us comfort in times of trouble? For me, it’s a Biblical band-aid we apply to the gaping wounds in our souls when our hearts are grieving and coming to terms with death. We are attempting to fit a Biblical square peg into a spiritual round hole. Hearing a poem read because “that’s just what you do” or “you know that’s what she wanted” isn’t Christian. It’s box-checking, reading scripture because that’s what they did at the last funeral you went to, because they did at the previous funeral they went to, and so on. Habits aren’t sacred. If they were, deviled eggs would be the holiest things at funerals/church.

Scripture has meaning because it’s up to us to give it meaning. Do I want to disentangle my association with these words from death and reconnect them with life? What will it take for us to stop muttering about sheep and shepherds and start thinking about what it means to be shepherded? We live in a culture of consumption. What does it mean to “not want” in the present while we are living, not standing over a grave? I believe the 23rd Psalm can help us in ways beyond being a source of comfort and solace in times of grief. It could reorient our priorities, such as our community, wealth, and peacemaking. To do this, we might have to read the text other than in a bulletin at a funeral and realize that it might mean more than we’ve ever considered.