A TABLE IN THE PRESENCE OF ENEMIES
Psalm 23  
A Communion Meditation
by the Reverend Odette Lockwood-Stewart

Yesterday, 400 people gathered in this sanctuary to celebrate the life of Tim Davis, a beloved member of this community.  In 2005, Tim was diagnosed with ALS, Lou Gehrig’s disease an illness that is always fatal, and that not so gradually and inevitably destroys the body while leaving the mind totally clear.

Tim first came to Epworth to pick up his daughter, who is a student in the Mandarin School that meets here Saturday mornings.  Tim waited for Chansey, and began reading newsletters and sermons.  He started asking questions, began attending worship, and joined the church.

For 30 years, Tim had been an engaging and high-powered staffer in the state legislature, and a telecommunications lobbyist.  He had also been an outspoken agnostic ... or atheist – depending on which day you asked him.

His friends were shocked when they heard that Tim was attending a church, let alone had joined a church!  When his close friend Jim asked, “Tim,... a church?  why?!”  Tim said, “Hey, in my situation, you need all the friends you can get.”

We all need all the friends we can get..  The fact of the matter is, we all live with life-threatening situations, even when we’re not particularly mindful of it. Or mindful of whose lives are threatened. We live in a dangerous world.

Tim did not even get to live out his shortened life span.  He was near campus in his electric wheelchair, in a crosswalk, crossing with the signal, when a car hit him.   After over 100 days of courageous struggle in the shadow of death, Tim died.

Probably no passage in all of scripture is invoked more frequently in times of fear, or pain, or loss, than the 23rd Psalm.  Psalm 23 is a psalm of trust.  It is a song of - future, past, and present – trust in the nearness of God – no matter what.  Psalm 23 is a community song of assurance that the Creator of the universe seeks, cares, comforts, guides, and accompanies us... every day.

Psalm 23 praises God the Shepherd who defends and comforts in situations of shadow and death.  Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. For you are with me, ...

Psalm 23 gives thanks to God the host who gives us this day our daily bread and who invites hospitality in the midst of hostility.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.
There will be valleys of shadows.  There will be valleys of the shadow of death.  There will be enemies.  There will be evil.
The psalm does not say “ I will fear no evil ... because I will face no evil.”  It doesn’t say “I can come to the table unafraid because I don’t have any enemies.”   

It says ... in the valley of the shadow of death, I will not be afraid.  It says in the very presence of my enemies, God’s table is set before me.

God’s presence transforms the situation, even when we are our most vulnerable.  In acknowledging our vulnerability we open to God.
Last year, Frances Moore Lappe, author “Diet for a Small Planet” wrote a book entitled, Getting a Grip: Clarity, Creativity and Courage in a World Gone Mad.  She writes,

“With all our fancy forecasting – from ten day weather reports to the Fed’s inflation predictions – we can be lulled into believing we can see into the future pretty well.  But actually, we can’t.  History doesn’t unfold in neat, even increments.  It moves in messy, surprising jolts...and here’s the big upside:  recognizing that in this unique moment it is not possible to know what’s possible...we discover we are free.”
(p.19)

Sam Keen once said that ecstasy is the “sudden or gradual yielding of the illusion of control.”  We cannot dictate the circumstances of our lives.  We cannot predict the future.  But whatever comes, we need not face it alone, and there is freedom in entrusting God with our lives.  Because “In this unique moment it is not possible to know what is possible...we discover we are free.”

The table is set – with broken bread and a common cup as symbols of God’s love.  In communion we speak of “the body of Christ ... broken.”  The “body of Christ” is not bread alone... it is not one body alone... the “body of Christ” is the community of faith ... broken, and made whole ... broken, and made whole ... broken, and made whole.
The Network Journal quotes the late Berkeley poet, Leonard Nathan:

So you aren’t Tolstoy or St. Francis
Or even a well-known singer
Of popular songs and will never read Greek
Or speak French fluently,
Will never see something no one else
Has ever seen through a lens
Or with the naked eye.

You’ve been given just the one life
In this world that matters
and upon which every other life
somehow depends as long as you live,
and also given the costly gifts of hunger,
choice, and pain with which to raise
a modest shrine to meaning.

We have, individually and together, been given this one life ... with plans developed and stunning reversals when we least expect them.
The day before he died ... Tim Davis spoke this witness...slowly, each word.  He said “with all the ugliness, injustice, pain, ... there is so much beauty.  So much love.  So much good.”

The psalmist saw it all, still waters, green pastures, valleys, enemies, and death included ... and said Surely Goodness and Mercy will follow me all the days of my life ...
The Hebrew word that is translated “follow” actually means “pursue.”  In the Tanakh, the Jewish Bible, this verse is translated, “Only goodness and steadfast love will pursue me all the days of my life.”
In life, in death, in life beyond death, we are not alone.  God is with us.  God’s love and mercy pursues us. Thanks be to God.