Even though I walk through the valley
      of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil,

for you are with me;

your rod and your staff,

they comfort me.

— Psalm 23:4

The last week of April was bookended with memorial services.  I officiated a funeral on Monday, and attended my uncle’s memorial service on Saturday.  Not surprisingly, I’ve been thinking about “the valley of the shadow of death” quite a bit.  Pictured to the right is the Wadi Qelt on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho, which is likely the inspiration for the Psalm.  Notice the depth of the gorge and the dark shadows toward the bottom.  It is a visceral experience of “the valley of the shadow of death.”

Often we think of “walking through the valley of the shadow of death” during seasons of grief and loss, such as when a family member or dear friend passes away.  That is certainly a time when we are in that valley.  In addition to the inevitable sadness, the loss of a loved one is a reminder of our own mortality.  As Psalm 103 declares, “As for man, his days are like grass; he flourishes like a flower of the field; for the wind passes over it, and it is gone, and its place knows it no more.” (Psa. 103:15–16)  Knowing that God is present with us in our grief, actively and proactively comforting us, is a great assurance during these seasons.

There’s more to the valley of the shadow of death.  As many of you know, my uncle took his own life a month ago.  For many, including my uncle, to “walk through the valley of the shadow of death” is to wrestle through seasons of depression and sorrow, where the shadow of death whispers our fears of inadequacy, unworthiness, failures, and brokenness.  It offers seemingly sweet promises of relief and peace, the tender lie that one’s family and friends would be better off without you.  When we are in this valley, it feels as if the darkness of the shadow of death is our only friend; all we can see and hear are our fears.  But the Psalm reminds us that even in this valley we are not alone in the shadows.  Even when the whispers of the shadow of death speak louder than anything else, we are not alone; we need not be afraid because God is with us.

Of course sometimes the valley of the shadow of death comes during seasons of trial and tribulation, when it feels like every one and every thing is attacking us.  In Psalm 18, David says, “I call upon the LORD, who is worthy to be praised, and I am saved from my enemies.  The cords of death encompassed me; the torrents of destruction assailed me.” (Psa. 18:3–4)  The shepherd uses his rod and staff not just to guide the sheep along safe paths, but also to beat off wild animals that attack the flock.  Even then, God is present with us, protecting us from that which would bring us harm, saving us from our enemies.

The thing, though, is that God’s presence with us in “the shadow of the valley of death” does not necessarily mean that we won’t die while in the valley.  That might not seem like much comfort, but that’s only because our faith is so small.  We forget where we started, that our bodies are mortal and temporary things.  What’s ultimately at stake isn’t our physical bodies, but our eternal souls.  God will be present with us, up to and beyond the point of our physical death.  This should not fill us with fear or dread either, because of what we talked about last month.  Since Christ has been raised from the dead, the power of death is broken.  We can rest assured that we too shall be raised with Christ! After we shed our mortal coil, we will then see God face-to-face and He shall wipe every tear from our eye.  Death does not, and can not, have the final victory.  Praise be to God through our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ!

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God’s power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. 

— 1 Peter 1:3–5

Blessings,

Rev. David Garrison