Sermon Title: “I Will Not Fear”
Scripture: Psalm 23
Theme: Trust
Focus: Even in dark valleys, God is our Shepherd. Trust is our steady rhythm.
Key Verse: “Even though I walk through the valley… I will fear no evil.”

Opening Story: The Hiker and the Storm

Some years ago, a man named Dan set out on a solo hiking trip in the Smoky Mountains. He had done this trail before—but this time, the weather turned fast. Clouds rolled in, winds howled, and a sudden downpour made the path treacherous. His flashlight flickered and went out, and he realized he was in for a long, dark night alone.

Dan said later that the worst part wasn’t the cold or the wet—it was the fear. Every sound in the dark became something dangerous. He found a rock ledge and huddled underneath it. Then he remembered something his grandfather once told him: “When you can’t see the path, trust the Guide.” His grandfather had been a man of faith who loved Psalm 23. So in the dark, Dan began to recite it aloud. “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me…”

He said he must’ve repeated that a hundred times that night. And while the fear didn’t fully leave, it lost its grip. Dan made it through the night—not because the storm stopped, but because trust had steadied him.

Scripture: Psalm 23 (NRSV)

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures;
he leads me beside still waters;
he restores my soul.
He leads me in right paths for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley, 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.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord
my whole life long.

I. A Psalm We Know, A Shepherd We Trust

Psalm 23 is arguably the most well-known passage in the Bible. We hear it at funerals. We teach it to children. It’s a psalm of comfort, but not just sentiment—it is a psalm of fierce trust. David, who had walked through actual valleys and run from actual enemies, wasn’t writing from a cushy palace—he was writing from a life that knew fear.

David doesn’t say, “If I walk through the dark valley…”
He says, “Even though I walk through the valley…”

In other words, it’s going to happen. There will be valleys. And sometimes, they’re long. But here’s the heart of the psalm—and maybe the heart of the gospel: We are not alone. God is our Shepherd.

II. What Makes the Valley Dark?

Let’s name some of those valleys:

• The valley of grief—when we’ve lost someone and can’t imagine morning joy again.
• The valley of anxiety—when the unknowns keep piling up.
• The valley of a broken relationship—when love turns cold and we don’t know how to fix it.
• The valley of diagnosis—when the news from the doctor knocks the wind out of us.
• The valley of parenting—when our kids are struggling and we feel helpless.
• The valley of aging—when bodies slow down, memory fades, and loneliness creeps in.

⠀These are the places we walk where the light seems gone. And the shadows? They whisper fear.

But notice what David says: “Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil.”

Why?

Because the Shepherd is with us.

III. God Is Not Afraid of the Dark

The power of Psalm 23 lies not in the absence of trouble—but in the presence of God. When David shifts in verse 4 from “He” to “You,” it marks a turning point.

“He leads me…” becomes “You are with me.”

The valley shifts our focus. When things are going well, we may speak about God. But in the valley, we speak to God.

This is the rhythm of trust: not that the path is easy, but that the presence of the Shepherd is constant.

IV. The Shepherd’s Tools: Rod and Staff

David says, “Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff—they comfort me.”

It’s easy to read right past this line and miss how powerful it truly is. These are not just poetic tools—they’re instruments of presence, power, and protection.

The Rod: Defender and Protector

The rod was a short, sturdy stick—like a club. Shepherds in the ancient Near East carried it to fend off wild animals or thieves. It was a weapon of defense. The rod represented the shepherd’s strength, authority, and commitment to protect the flock.

David wasn’t just imagining this metaphor—he lived it. In 1 Samuel 17, he tells King Saul:

“When a lion or a bear came and carried off a sheep from the flock, I went after it, struck it, and rescued the sheep from its mouth…”

David knew firsthand that a shepherd had to be ready to fight. So when he says, “Your rod comforts me,” he’s declaring this:

“God, I trust that You will fight for me. I may not see the enemy clearly, but I know You see it, and You are not passive.”

Sometimes we think trust means rolling over and accepting whatever comes. But trusting God doesn’t mean we stop resisting evil—it means we let God be our defender.

The Staff: Guidance and Rescue

The staff is different. It’s that long, slender stick with a hook on the end—the classic shepherd’s crook. It wasn’t for fighting—it was for leading and rescuing.

• The shepherd used it to gently nudge a sheep back onto the right path.
• If a sheep slipped off a ledge or got stuck in a crevice, the shepherd could hook it around the sheep’s neck or body and pull it to safety.
• At times, the shepherd would use the staff just to touch a sheep to let it know, “I’m here.”

⠀This is the comfort of a God who doesn’t just defend from a distance—but guides with nearness.

Rod and Staff—Together

David says, “Your rod and Your staff—they comfort me.”

That word comfort in Hebrew (nacham) doesn’t mean “make me feel better”—it means to restore courage, to bring deep assurance. What comforts David is this:

• A God strong enough to protect him,
• And tender enough to guide him.

⠀Both matter. A God who only fights but never comes close feels distant. A God who only comforts but cannot defend feels weak. But our Shepherd does both—He is mighty and merciful, strong and gentle.

V. A Table in the Wilderness

And then comes this strange twist—God prepares a table… in the presence of enemies.

Why a table? Why here?

Because trust doesn’t mean we just survive—we thrive, even in hard places. God is the kind of Shepherd who doesn’t just walk us through the valley—He feeds us there. In other words, the valley is not the end of the story.

Application: Trust as a Steady Rhythm

How do we live this out in our everyday lives?

• When fear whispers “you’re alone”… remember: the Shepherd is present.
• When the path is unclear… remember: the Shepherd leads.
• When grief weighs heavy… remember: the Shepherd restores.
• When stress is mounting… remember: the Shepherd gives rest.
• When your heart is anxious… recite this Psalm. Let it set the rhythm.

⠀Make Psalm 23 your morning song. Write it down. Say it before that tough meeting. Teach it to your children. Put it in your heart so it’s ready when the shadows fall.

Closing Story: The Child in the Hospital

A pastor once visited a child who was facing a serious surgery. The child was scared and clinging tightly to a small cross in her hand. The pastor knelt beside her and asked, “What are you thinking about?”

She answered quietly, “I’m remembering my Shepherd.”

“How do you know He’s with you?” he asked.

She opened her tiny hand and pointed to each finger as she said the words: The—Lord—is—my—Shepherd.
And on my, she squeezed that finger tight.

“That’s the one I hold on to,” she said, “because He’s my Shepherd.”

Closing Word:

Friends, you may be walking through a dark valley right now—or maybe someone you love is. But hear this: You are not alone. The Shepherd walks with you. He sees the path ahead. He knows your name. He sets a rhythm of trust. So take His hand, steady your steps, and say with David—

“Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.”

Amen.