There are passages of Scripture that feel timeless in a way that most do not. Psalm 23 is the clearest example. It has been read at funerals for kings and paupers. It has been recited by soldiers in foxholes and children at bedtime. It has survived translation into thousands of languages without losing a drop of its power.
Why?
The answer, I think, is that David got something precisely right about the human condition. We are sheep. That is not flattering — sheep are not known for their intelligence or self-sufficiency. But it is accurate. We wander. We get lost. We are vulnerable in a world full of predators. And we desperately need a shepherd.
The beauty of the psalm is not in its imagery — though the imagery is magnificent. The beauty is in the shift that happens in verse 4. David begins by talking about the shepherd in the third person: He leads, He makes, He restores. But in the darkest valley, the language changes. "You are with me." Third person becomes second person. Theology becomes relationship.
That is what the dark valleys do, if we let them. They move us from knowing about God to knowing God. And the Shepherd who walked with David through every shadow walks with us still.