In the Presence of My Enemies

Some time ago I was led in a Bible study on the 23rd Psalm, one that's familiar to most of us by memory. We got to verse 5, "You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies", and the question was raised as to the identity of my enemies today. Surely when David wrote the Psalm he had no shortage of experience with enemies, not the least of whom was his own son. But now, in the context of my own life, I am hard pressed to name any actual enemies. Based on the text from Psalm 23, the following reflection identifies some metaphysical opponents most of us face.

The table is set simply--two plates, cups, no utensils, a candle. I'm invited to sit and it feels good to take the weight of the day off my feet. Before we eat you ask me how I'm doing, not as a courtesy but as a compliment. You care about my response and wait... Listening.

The bread we then share is soft, warm, and doughy, smelling as good to my nose as it tastes to my mouth. I am offered some grape juice to drink while you have wine, since you know how to make me feel comfortable.

PRIDE lurches into the room and flicks on the overhead light, pulling up a chair and talking about himself. You tell him that he's interrupting and needs to step back. The ensuing quiet is like dessert to the meal.

GUILT peeks around the corner, like a child playing a game. He steps to my ear, preparing a whisper, but you silence him with a glance. It's enough to let him know that he has no place here and he backs away adopting the shame that he intended for me.

As we finish our meal, MATERIALISM saunters in, proposing a second helping of everything. With an encouraging glance from you I find the courage to say politely, "We've had all we need for today, thanks. I'm content." This enemy, too, is vanquished for the time being.

The enemies are many--sickness, grief, loneliness, self-centeredness. In Christ may we find a quiet table of refuge and sustenance.

Dave Graham