EXPLANATORY NOTES AND QUAINT SAYINGS (4)

Verse 3.—“Paths.” In the wilderness and in the desert there are no raised paths, the paths being merely tracks; and sometimes there are six or eight paths running unevenly alongside each other. No doubt this is what is figuratively referred to in Psalm xxiii. 3, “He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness,” all leading to one point.—John Gadsby.

Verse 3.—“For his name’s sake.” Seeing he hath taken upon him the name of a “Good Shepherd,” he will discharge his part, whatever his sheep be. It is not their being bad sheep that can make him leave being a “Good Shepherd,” but he will be “good,” and maintain the credit of “his name” in spite of all their badness; and though no benefit come to them of it, yet there shall glory accrue to him by it, and “his name” shall nevertheless be magnified and extolled.—Sir Richard Baker.

Verse 4.—“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.” To “fear no evil,” then, “in the valley of the shadow of death,” is a blessed privilege open to every true believer! For death shall be to him no death at all, but a very deliverance from death, from all pains, cares, and sorrows, miseries and wretchedness of this world, and the very entry into rest, and a beginning of everlasting joy: a tasting of heavenly pleasures, so great, that neither tongue is able to express, neither eye to see, nor ear to hear them, no, nor any earthly man’s heart to conceive them.... And to comfort all Christian persons herein, holy Scripture calleth this bodily death a sleep, wherein man’s senses be, as it were, taken from him for a season, and yet, when he awaketh, he is more fresh than when he went to bed!... Thus is this bodily death a door or entering into life, and therefore not so much dreadful, if it be rightly considered, as it is comfortable; not a mischief, but a remedy for all mischief; no enemy, but a friend; not a cruel tyrant, but a gentle guide: leading us not to mortality, but to immortality! not to sorrow and pain, but to joy and pleasure, and that to endure for ever!—Homily against the Fear of Death, 1547.

Verse 4.—“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.” Though I were called to such a sight as Ezekiel’s vision, a valley full of dead men’s bones; though the king of terrors should ride in awful pomp through the streets, slaying heaps upon heaps, and thousands should fall at my side, and ten thousands at my right hand, I will fear no evil. Though he should level his fatal arrows at the little circle of my associates, and put lover and friend far from me, and mine acquaintance into darkness, I will fear no evil. Yea, though I myself should feel his arrow sticking fast in me, the poison drinking up my spirits; though I should in consequence of that fatal seizure, sicken and languish, and have all the symptoms of approaching dissolution, still I will fear no evil. Nature, indeed, may start back and tremble, but I trust that he who knows the flesh to be weak, will pity and pardon these struggles. However I may be afraid of the agonies of dying, I will fear no evil in death. The venom of his sting is taken away. The point of his arrow is blunted so that it can pierce no deeper than the body. My soul is invulnerable. I can smile at the shaking of his spear; look unmoved on the ravages which the unrelenting destroyer is making on my tabernacle; and long for the happy period when he shall have made a breach wide enough for my heaven-aspiring spirit to fly away and be at rest.—Samuel Lavington.

Verse 4.—“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.” “I want to talk to you about heaven,” said a dying parent[16] to a member of his family. “We may not be spared to each other long. May we meet around the throne of glory, one family in heaven!” Overpowered at the thought, his beloved daughter exclaimed, “Surely you do not think there is any danger?” Calmly and beautifully he replied, “Danger, my darling! Oh, do not use that word! There can be no danger to the Christian, whatever may happen! All is right! All is well! God is love! All is well! Everlastingly well! Everlastingly well!”—John Stevenson.

Verse 4.—“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.” What not fear then? Why, what friend is it that keeps up your spirits, that bears you company in that black and dismal region? He will soon tell you God was with him, and in those slippery ways he leaned upon his staff, and these were the cordials that kept his heart from fainting. I challenge all the gallants in the world, out of all their merry, jovial clubs, to find such a company of merry cheerful creatures as the friends of God are. It is not the company of God, but the want of it, that makes sad. Alas! you know not what their comforts be, and strangers intermeddle not with their joy. You think they cannot be merry when their countenance is so grave; but they are sure you cannot be truly merry when you smile with a curse upon your souls. They know that he spoke that sentence which could not be mistaken, “Even in laughter the heart is sorrowful; and the end of that mirth is heaviness.” Prov. xiv. 13. Then call your roaring, and your singing, and laughter, mirth; but the Spirit of God calls it madness. Eccl. ii. 2. When a carnal man’s heart is ready to die within him, and with Nabal, to become like a stone, how cheerfully then can those look that have God for their friend! Which of the valiant ones of the world can outface death, look joyfully into eternity? Which of them can hug a fagot, embrace the flames? This the saint can do, and more too; for he can look infinite justice in the face with a cheerful heart; he can hear of hell with joy and thankfulness; he can think of the day of judgment with great delight and comfort. I again challenge all the world to produce one out of all their merry companies, one that can do all this. Come, muster up all your jovial blades together; call for your harps and viols; add what you will to make the concert complete; bring in your richest wines; come, lay your heads together, and study what may still add to your comfort. Well, is it done? Now, come away, sinner, this night thy soul must appear before God. Well now, what say you, man? What! doth your courage fail you? Now call for your merry companions, and let them cheer thy heart. Now call for a cup, a whore; never be daunted, man. Shall one of thy courage quail, that could make a mock at the threatenings of the Almighty God? What so boon and jolly but now, and now down in the mouth! Here’s a sudden change indeed! Where are thy merry companions, I say again? All fled? Where are thy darling pleasures? Have all forsaken thee? Why shouldst thou be dejected; there’s a poor man in rags that’s smiling? What! art thou quite bereft of all comfort? What’s the matter, man? What’s the matter? There’s a question with all my heart, to ask a man that must appear before God to-morrow morning. Well, then, it seems your heart misgives you. What then did you mean to talk of joys and pleasures? Are they all come to this? Why, there stands one that now hath his heart as full of comfort as ever it can hold, and the very thoughts of eternity, which do so daunt your soul, raise his! And would you know the reason? He knows he is going to his Friend; nay, his Friend bears him company through that dirty lane. Behold how good and how pleasant a thing it is for God and the soul to dwell together in unity! This it is to have God for a friend. “Oh blessed is the soul that is in such a case; yea, blessed is the soul whose God is the Lord.” Psa. cxliv. 15.—James Janeway.

Verse 4.—“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death.” Any darkness is evil, but darkness and the shadow of death is the utmost of evils. David put the worst of his case and the best of his faith when he said, “Though I walk in the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil;” that is, in the greatest evil I will fear no evil.... Again, to be under the shadow of a thing, is to be under the power of a thing.... Thus, to be under the shadow of death, is to be so under the power or reach of death, that death may take a man and seize upon him when it pleaseth. “Though I walk in the valley of the shadow of death,” that is, though I be so near death, that it seems to others death may catch me every moment, though I be under so many appearances and probabilities of extreme danger, that there appears an impossibility, in sense, to escape death, “yet I will not fear.”—Joseph Caryl.

Verse 4.—“Valley of the shadow of death.” A valley is a low place, with mountains on either side. Enemies may be posted on those mountains to shoot their arrows at the traveller, as ever was the case in the East; but he must pass through it. The Psalmist, however, said he would fear no evil, not even the fiery darts of Satan, for the Lord was with him. The figure is not primarily, as is sometimes supposed, our dying moments, though it will beautifully bear that explanation; but it is the valley beset with enemies, posted on the hills. David was not only protected in that valley, but even in the presence of those enemies, his table was bountifully spread (verse 5). The Bedouin, at the present day often post themselves on the hills to harass travellers, as they pass along the valleys.—John Gadsby.

Verse 4.—“I will fear no evil.” It hath been an ancient proverb, when a man had done some great matter, he was said to have “plucked a lion by the beard;” when a lion is dead, even to little children it hath been an easy matter. As boys, when they see a bear, a lion, or a wolf dead in the streets, they will pull off their hair, insult over them, and deal with them as they please; they will trample upon their bodies, and do that unto them being dead, which they durst not in the least measure venture upon whilst they are alive. Such a thing is death, a furious beast, a ramping lion, a devouring wolf, the helluo generis humani (eater up of mankind), yet Christ hath laid him at his length, hath been the death of death, so that God’s children triumph over him, such as those refined ones in the ore of the church, those martyrs of the primitive times, who cheerfully offered themselves to the fire, and to the sword, and to all the violence of this hungry beast; and have played upon him, scorned and derided him, by the faith that they had in the life of Christ, who hath subdued him to himself. 1 Cor. xv.—Martin Day, 1660.

Verse 4.—“Thou art with me.” Do you know the sweetness, the security, the strength of “Thou art with me”? When anticipating the solemn hour of death, when the soul is ready to halt and ask, How shall it then be? can you turn in soul-affection to your God and say, “There is nothing in death to harm me, while thy love is left to me”? Can you say, “O death, where is thy sting”? It is said, when a bee has left its sting in any one, it has no more power to hurt. Death has left its sting in the humanity of Christ, and has no more power to harm his child. Christ’s victory over the grave is his people’s. “At that moment I am with you,” whispers Christ; “the same arm you have proved strong and faithful all the way up through the wilderness, which has never failed, though you have been often forced to lean on it all your weakness.” “On this arm,” answers the believer, “I feel at home; with soul-confidence, I repose on my Beloved; for he has supported through so many difficulties, from the contemplation of which I shuddered. He has carried over so many depths, that I know his arm to be the arm of love.” How can that be dark, in which God’s child is to have the accomplishment of the longing desire of his life? How can it be dark to come in contact with the light of life? It is “his rod,” “his staff;” therefore they “comfort.” Prove him—prove him now, believer! it is your privilege to do so. It will be precious to him to support your weakness; prove that when weak, then are you strong; that you may be secure, his strength shall be perfected in your perfect weakness. Omnipotent love must fail before one of his sheep can perish; for, says Christ, “none shall pluck my sheep out of my hand.” “I and my Father are one;” therefore we may boldly say, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me.”—Viscountess Powerscourt.