The Dipper · Volume IIIThe index

Day Nine

Two sticks in the dark

Movement III — The Valley

Springs

… thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Psalm 23:4, KJV

Stop and let the strangeness of that register. A club and a walking stick. Two pieces of wood carried by a working man.

How on earth does that comfort anybody? A sheep in a dark ravine is not consoled by carpentry. If you handed a frightened animal a stick it would be no better off than before.

The answer is in the four words directly in front of it, which is why yesterday came first. For thou art with me — and then, and only then, the rod and the staff.

Take the shepherd out of the verse and you have two sticks in the dark.

Today’s morsel

“They comfort me.”

Three words. Then name the two things in your hand this month that are the rod and the staff.

Wells

The two objects are not a poetic pair. They are different tools, and they face opposite directions.

The rod faces outward

שֵׁבֶט, shevet, has a range that runs from club to branch to scepter to tribe. In a shepherd’s hand in a ravine it is the weapon — the thing swung at whatever is moving in the rocks. It is not pointed at the sheep. It is pointed at what hunts the sheep.

The staff faces inward

מִשְׁעֶנֶת, mish’eneth, comes from sha’an, to lean. It is a prop, a support, the thing you rest your weight on. It hooks the animal that slips on the scree, and it holds up the shepherd on the climb. Its whole function is load-bearing.

So the sheep in the valley has both directions covered at once: the threat is handled, and the weight is carried. That is not a bad summary of everything a body in the dark actually requires.

The detail that answers the question

Now notice the possessives, which the King James preserves and which we read past: thy rod and thy staff. The Hebrew has the suffix on both.

The sheep never holds either one. It is never handed the club. It is not asked to identify the predator, or to assess the grade of the slope, or to understand the route. It hears the stick move in the dark and knows who is carrying it.

Which is the answer to how two pieces of wood comfort anyone. The comfort of Psalm 23:4 is not I am equipped, and it is not now I understand. It is: someone competent is walking beside me carrying what I cannot lift.

Which is the word we started with. Paraklēsis. Called alongside.

Aquifer

Where honest readers disagree: is the rod correction? A long homiletic tradition reads shevet here as the rod of discipline, citing Proverbs 13:24, and finds comfort in the thought of a God who corrects his own. Adam Clarke rejected that reading in strong terms, arguing that the idea is absent from both the word and the passage, and that chastisement does not comfort in any case — nobody, he observes, anticipates correction with consolation.

The defensive reading has the better of it here on context alone: the setting is a predator-haunted ravine, not a household, and the rod is paired with a load-bearing staff rather than with instruction. But hold the question loosely rather than settling it, because Movement VI will return to it from a different direction and find something real in the disciplinary sense that Clarke’s argument does not quite reach.

On shevet as scepter. The same noun is the word for a ruler’s scepter (Genesis 49:10) and, by extension, for a tribe. Authority and defence are held in one object. The shepherd’s club and the king’s scepter are the same word, which is worth remembering when the shepherd in question turns out to be a king, and the king turns out to be a lamb.