The Lord Is My Shepherd: A Funeral Sermon from Psalm 23
We gather today carrying something heavy. Grief is not a small thing. It presses on the chest. It makes familiar rooms feel strange and ordinary moments feel unbearable. Whatever brought you here today, whether you are a lifelong believer, someone who has drifted from faith, or someone who has never been sure what you believe, you are welcome in this place. You do not have to pretend. You do not have to hold yourself together. This is a room where honest sorrow is allowed.
And into that honest sorrow, I want to read to you some of the oldest words of comfort in the history of the human race. They were written by a man who knew grief, who knew danger, who knew what it felt like to walk through darkness and wonder if he would come out the other side. His name was David, and under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, he gave us Psalm 23.
Please hear the Word of God.
"The Lord is my shepherd; I have what I need. He lets me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside quiet waters. He renews my life; he leads me along the right paths for the sake of his name. Even when I go through the darkest valley, I fear no danger, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Only goodness and faithful love will pursue me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord as long as I live." (Psalm 23, CSB)
The Shepherd And The Sheep
David opens with a declaration, not a question. He does not say, "I hope the Lord is my shepherd." He says, "The Lord is my shepherd." This is the language of trust that has been tested and found to hold. David was himself a shepherd before he was a king. He knew what shepherds do. He knew that sheep do not find their own food, that they do not navigate safely on their own, that they are vulnerable animals who depend entirely on the one who watches over them.
When David calls the Lord his shepherd, he is not being poetic in a vague, sentimental way. He is making a specific claim about the character of God. He is saying that God is the one who provides, the one who guides, the one who protects, and the one who restores. "He lets me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside quiet waters. He renews my life." These images describe a God who is actively, personally, tenderly involved in the lives of his people. This is not a distant deity who wound up the universe and walked away. This is a shepherd who knows his sheep by name.
That matters deeply on a day like today.
Through The Darkest Valley
The psalm does not stay in the green pastures. And that is one of the reasons it has survived three thousand years. It tells the truth. Verse four begins with a word we need to hear honestly: "Even when I go through the darkest valley." The Hebrew behind that phrase carries the weight of deep shadow, of a ravine where light barely reaches. Some of your English Bibles render it "the valley of the shadow of death," and that translation is not wrong. It is a place of real danger, real darkness, and real loss.
David does not say the shepherd removes the valley. He does not say the shepherd explains the valley or that the valley turns out to have been a shortcut to something better. He says the shepherd goes through the valley with him. "I fear no danger, for you are with me."
This is the pastoral heart of Psalm 23. The promise is not the absence of darkness. The promise is the presence of the shepherd in the darkness. "Your rod and your staff, they comfort me." The rod was a weapon for fighting off predators. The staff was a tool for guiding and steadying the sheep. Both of them speak of a shepherd who is close enough to touch, close enough to intervene, close enough to be felt in the dark.
If you are in that dark valley today, this psalm is speaking directly to you. Grief is a valley. Loss is a valley. The days and weeks ahead, when the casseroles stop coming and the house goes quiet, those are valley days too. And the promise of Scripture is that the shepherd does not abandon his sheep in the valley. He walks through it with them.
A Table And A Future
The psalm does not end in the valley. It ends at a table. "You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil. My cup overflows." There is an extravagance here that should not be missed. God does not merely rescue his people. He hosts them. He honors them. He fills their cup until it runs over.
And then the final verse reaches forward into eternity. "Only goodness and faithful love will pursue me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord as long as I live." The word translated "pursue" is a strong word. It is the same word used elsewhere in the psalms for enemies who chase a person down. David turns it around. He says that what is chasing him is not destruction but goodness. Not judgment but faithful love. And the destination is the house of the Lord, dwelling with God forever.
For those who belong to the Good Shepherd, this is not wishful thinking. It is a promise sealed by the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
The Good Shepherd Who Laid Down His Life
Jesus himself took up the language of this psalm in the Gospel of John. He said, "I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep." (John 10:11, CSB) He was not speaking in metaphor alone. He was describing what he was about to do. He walked into the darkest valley of all, into death itself, and he did not stay there. On the third day, God raised him from the dead, and in doing so, God declared that death does not have the final word for those who belong to the shepherd.
The hope of the Christian faith is not that good people go to heaven when they die. The hope is that Jesus Christ defeated death, and that all who trust in him share in that victory. That is the gospel. It is not earned. It is received by faith, by turning from sin and trusting in the risen Christ.
If you have never made that trust your own, today is a day when eternity feels close. The invitation is open. Not out of fear, not out of pressure, but because the shepherd is calling and the door is wide.
A Word To Those Who Mourn
To those of you who are carrying the sharpest grief today, I want to close with this. The Lord is your shepherd too. He sees you in this valley. He has not turned away. He does not ask you to grieve less or to hurry through your sorrow. He walks with you through it.
The same God who inspired these words, the same Christ who wept at the tomb of his friend Lazarus, is present in this room. He is not indifferent to your pain. He is the shepherd who leaves the ninety-nine to find the one who is lost, and he is the shepherd who walks beside the one who is broken.
Goodness and faithful love are pursuing you today. Even here. Even now.
Let us pray.
Sources Consulted
Craigie, Peter C. Psalms 1-50. Word Biblical Commentary. Waco: Word Books, 1983.
Kidner, Derek. Psalms 1-72. Tyndale Old Testament Commentaries. Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1973.
VanGemeren, Willem A. "Psalms." In The Expositor's Bible Commentary, vol. 5. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1991.
Spurgeon, Charles H. The Treasury of David. Vol. 1. Originally published 1869. Reprint, Peabody: Hendrickson Publishers, 1988.
Carson, D. A. and Beale, G. K., eds. Commentary on the New Testament Use of the Old Testament. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2007.
Before preaching: verify every biblical reference, replace general language only with family-approved details, and adapt the message to your own Christian tradition and pastoral voice.