Alice Tremaine
Chaplain and Advance Care Planning Coordinator, Baptist Health, Kentucky and Indiana
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, 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. –Psalm 23:4-5a
I’ve always been struck by the contrasts depicted in the 23rd Psalm: A prepared table and an overflowing cup, in the presence of danger, or enemies. Who has the gumption to enjoy an extravagant meal while staring at one’s mortal enemy?
There’s nothing I enjoy more than sitting at a table and sharing a meal with dear friends. I love a beautifully decorated table, generous portions of food and the merry sound of laughter among friends. It is this kind of table that I imagine when I read this psalm—an abundantly and artfully prepared table, situated among friends whose hearts overflow with joy, just as their cups overflow.
Yet, in that same image, I am suddenly aware that a threat looms just across the table, in the figure of a present enemy. Surprisingly, the party doesn’t stop. The guests feel the tension, the juxtaposition between joy and fear, celebration and the threat of loss, and continue to allow their cups to be filled.
Like the psalmist, I am all too aware that life is full of contradictions and unpredictable changes. One moment, we are lying down in green pastures and resting beside quiet waters, and the next moment, we are walking through the valley of the shadow of death. In both my ministerial calling as a chaplain and in my personal life, I have experienced the complex truth that life can be beautiful, rich, exhilarating and also extremely painful, sometimes all at once.
When my father was diagnosed with ALS, a terminal illness, many years ago, I felt that all the easiness and joy I had experienced in life were over. Life as I knew it would never be the same. All the color had drained from my life; from then on, my life would be forever divided between before and after the diagnosis, and the associated losses that would follow.
I was surprised to find that, eventually, my heart was still able to hold both joy and pain, sometimes at the same time. While my life has indeed changed, it is not without color.
What saved my life then and is saving my life now is the community around the table—filling each other’s cups, passing the bread around, allowing conversation and laughter to flow easily, all while having the courage to look fear in the face together.
The table is always set before us, lavishly prepared by God, even in the presence of danger or loss. May we dare to enter into community, experiencing the fullness of God’s goodness and mercy our whole lives long.
Pray, Practice, Ponder
This week, consider gathering with friends or family around the table, sharing one another’s stories of pain and loss, and “filling each other’s cups”—both physically and spiritually.
Pray. . .Give. . .Go.