Chased by Grace, Welcomed Home: A Journey through Psalm 23

(Fifth and final sermon in the series on Psalm 23 for Lent 2025)

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Imagine a beautifully set table—a festive spread laid out with your favorite foods, candles flickering warmly, laughter bubbling around the room. It’s perfect—except for one unsettling detail: your enemies are standing just a few feet away. They are loud, angry, and threatening. But strangely, they can’t get to you. A protective barrier, invisible yet powerful, keeps them at bay. You're safe, comfortable, relaxed. How can this be?

This image, painted vividly in Psalm 23:5–6, captures a profound spiritual truth. The Psalmist writes, "You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies." We often pray for God to remove our troubles, our enemies, our anxieties—but here, God invites us instead to a banquet right in their midst.

Life often feels like this table. We're surrounded by struggles and difficulties—whether grief, fear, anxiety, or literal opposition. Yet, we find ourselves mysteriously protected and spiritually nourished. This isn’t just poetic imagery; it's an echo of real, historical moments when God’s people experienced exactly this kind of care. Think about the Israelites during Passover. Surrounded by the oppressive threat of Egypt, they didn’t fight or flee; instead, they ate a meal in peace and safety because God spiritually protected them through the blood of the lamb.

We experience something profoundly similar every time we come to the Lord’s Supper. We don't approach God timidly, hoping to prove we're good enough or worthy enough. Instead, we boldly and joyfully come because the King himself has invited us. Our invitation was secured not by our merit but through the precious blood of Jesus Christ. It’s a profound reversal of what we might expect: in the presence of our failures, weaknesses, and sins, God welcomes us warmly, anointing our heads with oil—a fragrant, ancient gesture symbolizing deep hospitality and belonging.

The Psalmist says, “You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.” God isn’t stingy with grace. He pours out mercy and grace abundantly, lavishly. Our identity as beloved children isn’t based on how well we’ve lived up to expectations; it was graciously bestowed upon us through Christ’s sacrifice and marked upon us in our Baptism. We, like David the shepherd-boy-turned-king, have been anointed, chosen, and marked as God’s own. This anointing isn’t contingent on our perfection but rooted in His perfect love.

But Psalm 23 doesn’t end at the table. David continues with a breathtaking promise: "Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life." The Hebrew word for “follow” here—radaph—is stronger than our English translation. It’s not merely to follow, but to pursue, to chase down relentlessly, as an army might chase down an enemy. Yet instead of destruction, what pursues us is God's goodness and mercy. The imagery is powerful: once chased by our enemies, we’re now chased by grace itself.

Think about this radical reversal. Instead of being haunted by guilt, shame, or regret, we are relentlessly pursued by mercy. Instead of the shadow of fear or despair looming large, goodness chases after us, eager to redeem and restore. This is the character of the God who brought Israel out of Egypt, the same God who, like the shepherd leaving the ninety-nine to rescue the one lost sheep, is determined never to let us escape His loving care.

This chase isn't occasional—it’s continuous. On your best days, grace pursues you. On your worst days, mercy still tracks your every step. Even when you feel unworthy, discouraged, or distant, God’s faithful pursuit doesn't waver.

Ultimately, this chase leads us home. "I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever," David declares. This final image isn’t about a physical building; it’s about belonging. It’s about being eternally enveloped in God’s presence, surrounded by His people, fully at peace. Eternity doesn’t begin someday far off—it starts now, in this moment, as we live in fellowship with our Shepherd.

You are already home, even as you walk through life’s valleys. You are already seated at the table, even amidst your enemies. You are already anointed, marked by grace, overflowing with abundant spiritual blessings. This abundance isn’t about material prosperity; it’s about spiritual fulfillment and lasting joy, whether we have much or little. You don't have to strive to earn your place at this banquet—you've been welcomed freely, fully, joyfully by the King Himself.

As you journey through life, remember that troubles, fears, and foes may indeed surround you. Yet in their midst, God sets a table of grace, hospitality, and spiritual abundance. Goodness and mercy are not just passive companions—they actively pursue you, ensuring your every step leads closer to home.

So, go into the world boldly. Live confidently, knowing you're not trying to earn your place at God's table; you're already there. Celebrate this truth: "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want." Indeed, stuff will happen. Valleys will come, enemies will appear. But God promises His presence, protection, and spiritual provision every step of the way.

You are chased by grace and forever welcomed home.