'And David said to Saul, Let no man's heart fail because of him; thy
servant will go and fight with this Philistine. 33. And Saul said to
David, Thou art not able to go against this Philistine to fight with
him: for thou art but a youth, and he a man of war from his youth. 34.
And David said unto Saul, Thy servant kept his father's sheep, and
there came a lion and a bear, and took a lamb out of the flock; 35. And
I went out after him, and smote him, and delivered it out of his mouth:
and when he arose against me, I caught him by his beard, and smote him,
and slew him. 36. Thy servant slew both the lion and the bear: and this
uncircumcised Philistine shall be as one of them, seeing he hath defied
the armies of the living God. 37. David said moreover, The Lord that
delivered me out of the paw of the lion, and out of the paw of the
bear, He will deliver me out of the hand of this Philistine. And Saul
said unto David, Go, and the Lord be with thee. 38. And Saul armed
David with his armour, and he put an helmet of brass upon his head;
also he armed him with a coat of mail. 39. And David girded his sword
upon his armour, and he assayed to go; for he had not proved it. And
David said unto Saul, I cannot go with these; for I have not proved
them. And David put them off him. 40. And he took his staff in his
hand, and chose him five smooth stones out of the brook, and put them
in a shepherd's bag which he had, even in a scrip; and his sling was in
his hand: and he drew near to the Philistine. 41. And the Philistine
came on and drew near unto David; and the man that bare the shield went
before him. 42. And when the Philistine looked about, and saw David, he
disdained him: for he was but a youth, and ruddy, and of a fair
countenance. 43. And the Philistine said unto David, Am I a dog, that
thou comest to me with staves? And the Philistine cursed David by his
gods. 44. And the Philistine said to David, Come to me, and I will give
thy flesh unto the fowls of the air, and to the beasts of the field.
45. Then said David to the Philistine, Thou comest to me with a sword,
and with a spear, and with a shield: but I come to thee in the name of
the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom thou hast
defied. 46. This day will the Lord deliver thee into mine hand; and I
will smite thee, and take thine head from thee; and I will give the
carcases of the host of the Philistines this day unto the fowls of the
air, and to the wild beasts of the earth; that all the earth may know
that there is a God in Israel. 47. And all this assembly shall know
that the Lord saveth not with sword and spear: for the battle is the
Lord's, and He will give you into our hands. 48. And it came to pass,
when the Philistine arose, and came and drew nigh to meet David, that
David hasted, and ran toward the army to meet the Philistine. 49. And
David put his hand in his bag, and took thence a stone, and slang it,
and smote the Philistine in his forehead, that the stone sunk into his
forehead; and he fell upon his face to the earth. 50. So David
prevailed over the Philistine with a sling and with a stone, and smote
the Philistine, and slew him; but there was no sword in the hand of
David. 51. Therefore David ran, and stood upon the Philistine, and took
his sword, and drew it out of the sheath thereof, and slew him, and cut
off his head therewith. And when the Philistines saw their champion was
dead, they fled.'--1 SAMUEL xvii. 32-51.
The scene of David's victory has been identified in the present Wady
Es-Sunt, which still possesses one of the terebinth-trees which gave it
its name of 'Elah.' At that point it is about a quarter of a mile wide,
and runs nearly east and west. In the centre is 'a deep trench or
gulley, the sides and bed of which are strewn with rounded and
water-worn pebbles.' This is the 'valley,' or rather 'ravine' of verse
3 of this chapter, which is described by a different word from that for
'vale' in verse 2--the one meaning a much broader opening than the
other--and from it came the 'five smooth stones.' Notice the minute
topographical accuracy, which indicates history, not legend. The
pebble-bed may supply a missile to hit the modern 'giant' of sceptical
criticism, who boasts much after Goliath's fashion.
The two armies lay looking at each other across the valley, with
occasional skirmishes; and for forty days (probably a round number)
Goliath paraded on his own, the south, side of the gulley, shouting out
his taunts and challenge with a voice like a bull. Many a similar scene
in classical and mediaeval warfare confirms the truth of the picture,
so unlike modern battles. The story is, for all time, the example of
the victory of unarmed faith over the world's utmost might. It is in
little the history of the Church and the type of all battles for God.
It is a pattern for the young especially. The youthful athlete leaps
into the arena, and overcomes, not because of his own strength, but
because he trusts in God.
I. Note the glowing youthful enthusiasm which dares the conflict. When
the Spirit of the Lord left Saul, his courage seems to have gone too,
and he is cowed, like the rest, by Goliath. His interview with David
shows him as timid and unlike his former self, when he dashed at Nahash
and any odds. Now he is hardly to be roused, even by David's contagious
boldness, and is full of objections and precautions. The temper of the
two, as they front each other in Saul's tent, shows that the one has
lost, and the other received, the Spirit which strengthens. David has
become the encourager, and his cheery words bring some hopefulness to
the gloomy, faint-hearted king. The Septuagint has a variant reading in
verse 32, which brings this out and suits the context, 'Let not my
lord's heart fail.' But, whether this be adopted or no, David appears
as quite unaffected by the terror which had unmanned the army, and as
bringing a buoyant disregard of the enemy, like a reviving breeze. It
was not merely youthful daring, nor foolish under-estimation of the
danger, which prompted his stimulating words. The ring of true faith is
in them, and they show us how we may surround ourselves with an
atmosphere which will keep prevailing faint-heartedness off us, and
make us, like Gideon's fleece, impervious to the chill mists of
faithless fear which saturate all around. He who trusts in God should
be as a pillar of fire, burning bright in the darkness of terror, and
making a rallying point for weaker hearts. When panic has seized
others, the Christian soul has the more reason for courage. David
conquered the temptation to share in the general cowardice, before he
conquered Goliath, and perhaps the former fight was the worse of the
two.
While David is the embodiment of the courage of faith, Saul embodies
worldly wisdom and calculating prudence. A touch of tenderness blends
with his attempt to dissuade the lad from the unequal conflict. He
speaks of probabilities, and, like all such calculation, his results
are quite right, only that he has not taken all the forces into
account, and the omission vitiates the conclusion. It is quite true
that David is but a youth, and Goliath a giant and a veteran; but is
that all that is to be said? If it be, then the lad cannot fight the
Philistine bully; but if Saul has made the small omission of leaving
out God, that makes a difference. The same mistake is constantly made
still, and so the victories of faith are a constant surprise to the
world and to a worldly Church. David's eager story of his fights with
wild beasts is meant both to answer Saul's objection on his own ground,
by showing him that, youth as the speaker was, he had proved his power,
and still more to supply the lacking element in the calculation. So he
tells, first, how 'I caught him by his beard, and smote him, and slew
him,' and then at the end brings in the true ground of his confidence:
'The Lord that delivered me ... He will deliver.' As Thomas Fuller
says, 'He made an experimental syllogism, and from most practical
premises (major a lion, minor a bear), inferred the direct conclusion
that God would give him victory over Goliath. Faith has the right thus
to argue from the past to the future, because it draws from God whose
resources and patience are equally inexhaustible. An echo of the words
comes from Paul's 'Who delivered us from so great a death, and doth
deliver: in whom we trust that He will yet deliver.' There is infinite
pathos in Saul's parting blessing. 'The Lord be with thee!' is spoken
as if from the consciousness that the Lord had left _him_, and that
_his_ day for going into battle with the assurance of His help was gone
for ever. If that softened mood had lasted, how different his future
might have been! If we modestly and boldly show the power of faith in
our lives, we may kindle yearnings in some gloomy hearts, that would
lead them to peace, if followed out.
II. The equipment of faith. Saul meant to honour as well as to secure
David by dressing him in his own royal attire, and by encumbering him
by the help of sword and helmet. And David was willing to be so fitted
out, for it is no part of the courage of faith to disdain any outward
helps. But he soon found that he could not move freely in the
unaccustomed armour, and flung it off, like a wise man. His motive was
partly common sense, which told him not to choose weapons that his
antagonist could handle better than he; and partly reliance on God,
which told him that he was safer with no armour but his shepherd's
dress and with only his sling in his hand. So there he stands, drawn
for us with wonderful vividness, in one hand his staff, in the other
his sling, both familiar and often used, and by his side the simple
wallet which had held his frugal meal, and now received the smooth
pebbles that he picked up as he passed the gulley to the Philistine
side of the valley.
How graphically the contrast is drawn between him and Goliath, as the
latter conies forth swelling with his own magnificence, and preceded by
his shield-bearer! He was 'brass' all over; note the kind of amused
emphasis with which the word is repeated in the half-satirical and
marvellously lifelike portrait of him in verses 5-8; 'brass' here,
'brass' there, 'brass' everywhere; and, not content with one shield
dangling at his back, he has a man to carry another in front of him as
he struts. David seems to have crossed the ravine, and to have come
close up to Goliath before he was observed; and then, with almost a
snort of contempt, the giant resents the insult of sending such a foe
to fight _him_ with such weapons. Perhaps he was nearer the truth than
he thought, when he asked if he was a dog; and any stick will do, as
the proverb says, to beat that animal, especially if God guards the
hand that holds it.
The five smooth stones have become the symbol of the insignificant
means, in the world's estimate, which God uses in faithful hands to
slay the giants of evil. The weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but
they are mighty. Faith unarmed is armed with more than triple steel,
and a sling in its hand is more fatal than a sword. Sometimes in
kindness and sometimes in malice, the world tempts us to fight evil
with its own weapons, and to put on its unfamiliar armour. The Church
as a whole, and individual Christians, have often been hampered, and
all but smothered, in Saul's harness. The more simply we keep ourselves
to the simple methods which the word of God enjoins, and to the simple
weapons which ought to be the easiest for a Christian, the more likely
shall we be to conquer. Goliath is not to be encountered with sword and
armour which is, after all, but a shabby copy of the tons of brass
which he wears, but he does not know what to make of the sling, and
does not see the stone till it crashes his skull in.
III. Note faith's anticipation of victory. The dialogue before the
battle has many parallels in classical times and among savage peoples.
Goliath's bluster is full of contempt of David and truculent
self-confidence. Its coarseness is characteristic,--he will make his
boyish antagonist food for vultures and jackals. It is exactly what a
bully would say. David's answer throbs with buoyant confidence, and
stands as a stimulating example of the temper in which God's soldiers
should go out to every fight, no matter against what odds. It fully
recognises the formidable armoury of the enemy,--sword for close
quarters, spear to thrust with, and javelin to fling from a distance,
every weapon that ingenuity could fashion and trained skill could
wield. Goliath was a walking arsenal, and little David took count of
his weapons as they clanked and flashed. It is no part of faith's
triumph to ignore the number and sharpness of the enemy's arms. But
faith sees them all, and keeps unterrified and unashamed of the poor
leathern sling and smooth stones. The unarmed hand which grasps God's
hand should never tremble; and he who can say 'I come ... in the name
of the Lord of hosts,' has no need to be afraid of an army of Goliaths,
though each bristled with swords and spears like a porcupine.
The great name on which David's faith rested, 'the Lord of hosts,'
appears to have sprung into use in this epoch, and to have been one
precious fruit of its frequent wars. Conflict is blessed if it teaches
the knowledge of the unseen Commander who marshals not only men, but
all the forces of the universe and the armies of heaven, for the
defence of His servants and the victory of His own cause. The fulness
of the divine name is learned by degrees, as our needs impress the
various aspects of His character; and the revelation contained in this
appellation is the gift of that fierce and stormy time, a possession
for ever. He who defies the armies of Israel has to reckon with the
Lord of these armies, whose name proclaims at once His eternal,
self-originated, and self-sustained being, His covenant, His presence
with His earthly host, and the infinite ranks of obedient creatures who
are His soldiers and their allies. That is 'the Name' in the strength
of which we may 'set up our banners' and be sure of victory. Note how
David flings back Goliath's taunts in his teeth. He is sure that God
will conquer through him, and, though he has no sword, that he will
somehow hack the big head off; and that it is the host of the
Philistines on whom the vultures and jackals are to feed to-day.
His faith sees the victory before the battle is begun, and trusts, not
in his own weak power, but only 'in the name of the Lord.' Note, too,
the result which he expects--no glory for himself, though that came
unsought, when the shrill songs from the women of Israel met the
victors, but to all the world the proof that Israel had a God, and to
Israel ('this assembly') the renewed lesson of their true weapons and
of their Almighty Helper. Such utter suppression of self is inseparable
from trust in God, and without it no soldier of His has a right to
expect victory. To fight 'in the name of the Lord' requires hiding our
own name. If we are really going to war for Him, and in His strength,
we ought to expect to conquer. Believe that you will be beaten, and you
will be. Trust to Him to make you 'more than conquerors,' and the trust
will bring about its own fulfilment.
IV. Observe the contrast in verse 48 between the slow movements of the
heavy-armed Philistine and the quick run of the shepherd, whose 'feet
were as hind's feet' (Psalm xviii. 33). Agility and confident alacrity
were both expressed. His feet were shod with 'the preparedness of
faith.' Observe, too, the impetuous brevity of the account in verse 49,
of the actual fall of Goliath. The short clauses, coupled by a series
of 'ands,' reproduce the swift succession of events, which ended the
fight before it had begun; and one can almost hear the whiz of the
stone as it crashes into the thick head, so strangely left unprotected
by all the profusion of brass that clattered about him. The vulnerable
heel of Achilles and the unarmed forehead of Goliath illustrate the
truth, ever forgotten and needing to be repeated, that, after all
precautions, some spot is bare, and that 'there is no armour against
fate.'
The picture of the huge 'man-mountain' fallen upon his face to the
earth, a huddled heap of useless mail, recalls the words of a psalm,
'When the wicked, even mine enemies and my foes, came upon me to eat up
my flesh, they stumbled and fell' (Psalm xxvii. 2). Is it fanciful to
hear in that triumphant chant an echo of Goliath's boast about giving
his flesh to the fowls and the beasts, and a vision of the braggart as
he tottered and lay prostrate? Observe, too, the contemptuous
reiteration of 'the Philistine,' which occurs six times in the four
verses (48-51). National feeling speaks in that. There is triumph in
the sarcastic repetition of the dreaded name in such a connection. This
was what one of the brood had got, and his fate was an omen of what
would befall the rest. The champion of Israel, the soldier of God,
standing over the dead Philistine, all whose brazen armour had been
useless and his brazen insolence abased, and sawing off his head with
his own sword, was a prophecy for the Israel of that day, and will be a
symbol till the end of time of the true equipment, the true temper, and
the certain victory, of all who, in the name of the Lord of hosts, go
forth in their weakness against the giants of ignorance, vice, and sin.
'This is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith.'