Anzac Day
Sermon Preached by Rev’d Tracey Gracey on Sunday, 26 April 2026
There are many accounts from times of war where Psalm 23 has brought comfort and has sustained those who served.
At Gallipoli, we know that many soldiers carried small Bibles or New Testaments in their pockets and Psalm 23 was one of the passages that were often marked or underlined.
Chaplain accounts tell us that some soldiers as they moved forward into battle would quietly recite verses from this psalm, especially the line,
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…
Not because they believed it would keep them safe,
but because it gave these soldiers words for facing what lay ahead without feeling entirely alone.
Psalm 23 was also echoed in the letters that were sent home.
Words that often could not say everything and yet still communicating something deeper, that even in the worst of places, they were not abandoned.
In prisoner-of-war camps, there are also stories of Psalm 23 being repeated quietly, line by line, sometimes in the darkness of night, sometimes in illness, sometimes simply to survive.
And then there are the accounts of chaplains at gravesides who would begin the familiar words, “The Lord is my shepherd…” with others quietly continuing the lines from memory.
From these wartime accounts we can see that Psalm 23 speaks into the realities of life.
For it does not pretend the valley is not there.
It does not rush past fear or suffering.
It does not offer certainty.
It does not promise safety.
It names the fullness and complexity of human experience—fear, loss, uncertainty, and vulnerability.
And yet, this psalm speaks of hope, and of God’s presence
And that is the turning point of the psalm.
Not that the valley disappears, but that we are not alone within it.
Dallas Willard, in his book Life Without Lack, suggests that when we hear,
“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want,”
we often misunderstand what is being said.
For we often want to hear this psalm as confirmation that we will have—
or be given—what we desire.
But Willard suggests it is something deeper than that.
It is about how we choose to live.
A way of living that is—
A life not driven by what is missing in our lives.
A life not shaped by fear, or by the need to hold everything together.
But a life grounded in the presence of god—
a quiet trust that we are held, even when much is uncertain.
So that even in the places we would rather not go,
even in the places we fear the most,
we are not outside the presence of God.
WHAT PSALM 23 GIVES WORDS TO,
WE SEE LIVED OUT IN JESUS—
IN THE WAY HE SHOWS US WHAT GOD IS LIKE.
IN JESUS, GOD WALKS INTO THE REALITY OF LIFE AS IT IS.
IN JESUS, GOD FACES FEAR, VIOLENCE, AND DEATH—
NOT BY TURNING AWAY,
BUT BY REMAINING PRESENT WITHIN IT.
And even there,
GOD DOES NOT TURN AWAY,
BUT CONTINUES TO GIVE.
And in doing so, this shows us something—
THAT EVEN IN THE most HARDEST and challenging PLACES,
LOVE IS STILL AT WORK,
AND GOD IS STILL PRESENT.
ON THIS ANZAC WEEKEND, AS WE REMEMBER THOSE WHO WALKED THROUGH THEIR OWN VALLEYS,
HOW DO we LIVE THIS PSALM?
Because these are Words to carry.
Words to pray, even when we are not sure what to pray, for they speak into our everyday lives and remind us of the presence [rather than the absence] of God.
Wondering whether the closing of this psalm should be made more personal by changing the reflection parts to I
“The Lord is my shepherd…”
spoken in the ordinary moments of the day. [can you say something else as I have mentioned this above]
“I shall not want…”
when we feel that something is missing, or not enough.
“He makes me lie down…”
when rest does not come easily.
“He leads me beside still waters…”
when life feels unsettled or restless.
“He restores my soul…”
when something within us feels worn or stretched.
“He leads me in right paths…”
when we are unsure which way to go.
Does feel like this easily links from above And perhaps especially,
“Even though I walk through the valley…”
when we find ourselves in places we did not expect to be.
“I will fear no evil…”
when fear begins to take hold. Can you change fear
“For you are with me…”
when we need to be reminded that we are not alone.
“Your rod and your staff…”
when we need guidance, or something to steady us.
“You prepare a table…”
even in the presence of what is difficult or unresolved.
“You anoint my head…”
when dignity or strength feels diminished.
“My cup overflows…”
in the moments when we glimpse that there is still more life than we realised.
“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me…”
when it is hard to see what lies ahead.
“And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord…”
a reminder that we do not simply pass through life alone,
we belong with and held within the presence of God.