Psalm 23
David Lynch’s “The Elephant Man” dramatizes the life of Joseph Merrick, a man with significant physical disabilities affecting his ability to do routine things like sleep or walk. His enlarged skull and curved spine mark him as “grotesque” by the Victorian-era public in England. Therefore, the only work Merrick can find is as a member of a “freak show,” where he is abused and mistreated. Called “the elephant man,” Merrick is entirely dehumanized, rejected and despised.
In the movie, Dr. Frederick Teves encounters Merrick and takes him to London Hospital to examine him and provide him with a safer, more compassionate environment. Yet, even at the hospital, his appearance and presence are met with misunderstanding and fear. At a pivotal point in the film, the hospital administration wants to evict Merrick, calling him “incurable.” Treves, who believes Merrick has intellectual disabilities, tries to coach Merrick to memorize a few lines of Psalm 23 as a show of progress. He learns that Merrick is literate and knows this entire Psalm by heart. It’s an extraordinarily human moment that lays the groundwork for the rest of the film to portray Merrick as a human being with understanding, love and appreciation for the beauty of the world.
This scene from “The Elephant Man” reshaped my understanding of the Psalm 23, a biblical passage I previously only associated with funerals or memorial services. It revealed the power of the psalm’s deep-seated poetic language in naming the foundation of hope and love we can have in God — even in times where suffering and sorrow seem to surround us.
The psalm uses a variety of language to point to this foundational hope. God is a shepherd who “leads me beside still waters…” (v. 2) and provides protection, “I fear no evil, for you are with me…” (v. 4). God is a welcoming host who “prepare[s] a table before me…” (v. 5) and “anoint[s] my head with oil…” (v. 5). And yet, arguably the most evocative imagery of Psalm 23 is the language of return and restoration in the simple yet compelling statement that God “restores my soul” (v. 3).
The Hebrew word for “restore” in the text is yeshovev, which comes from the root Hebrew verb shuv, which means, in one way, “to return.” This Hebrew word shuv undergirds the entire text of Psalm 23, beyond just the verse that affirms God as a restorer of souls. In this way, the psalm is establishing God as a dwelling of comfort. God is a place that we can and will always return to, no matter how far or how long we travel. God is the place we call “home.”
Even though we walk through the valleys in the shadows of death and even though we might be in the presence of our enemies, there is always a path illuminated for us to “return home.” This is what it means to be claimed by God as God’s own children. This is God’s abundant and amazing love for us, a light we can witness even when we are suffering or in sorrow. This is our holy hope.
Near the end of “The Elephant Man,” Dr. Treves apologizes to Merrick, who is now frail and dying, for all that has happened to him. Merrick tells him, “I am happy every hour of the day. My life is full because I know that I am loved … I could not say that if it weren’t for you.”
In a world full of uncertainties, Psalm 23 helps us to remember the certainty that we belong to God. We can be rest assured that God is with us, our “home” where, no matter where we are in the joys and pains of living, the light is always left on and the door is always open for us to return and be restored, refreshed, and renewed.
Questions for discussion
- When have you experienced the feelings of God’s “leading beside still waters” or “restoring my soul”?
- What does it mean to you to see God as “home”?
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