And the Philistines assembled their armies to battle, and were gathered together at Sochoh, which belongs to Judah, and encamped between Sochoh and Azekah, in Ephesdammim.
Two armies face each other across a valley: the Philistines on Judah's soil at Socoh, Israel opposite in the valley of Elah. Commentators read this verse as the stage God set to show what Saul's kingship was worth, and to bring forward the man He had already anointed.
The geography is not decoration. The positions here make attack costly for whoever moves first.
The time comes when both Saul and David are put to a public test of their fitness to rule Israel. Jonathan's faith had defeated the Philistines before. Now they come back to challenge Israel, but in a different way. Israel's army holds high ground on one side of a valley. The Philistines hold high ground on the other side. To attack, an army would have to cross the valley and climb the far slope. That would leave it at a great disadvantage.
God had already set Saul aside. One writer weighs what Saul's reign amounted to, and what his failure made room for.
In moral terms, Saul did nothing of what he was chosen to do. He only showed how useless and fruitless man is. He is under sentence now, though not yet removed. So he gives God the occasion to form His chosen one, in mighty and gracious power, to do His work.
Another writer weighs what Saul lacked, and names the one thing that would have made up for it.
Saul's incompetence and helplessness show up plainly — as a man and as a king. As king, he should have been the one to take up the challenge of Goliath. Faith in God would have more than made up for the difference in size, which he felt keenly. Faith is the only safe ground to act on.
The same crisis will measure two men, and pressure is what does the measuring.
"Now the Philistines gathered their armies for battle." Here we come to something designed to bring out the true character and worth of Saul and David — the man of form and the man of power. It is trial that brings out the reality of a man's resources.
The nation had to learn again where its rescue came from.
It is plain that God was about to show Israel again that they were powerless as a people. Their only rescue, as in the past, was the arm of the LORD. He was still ready to act in His wonderful character as "a man of war," whenever faith called on Him as such.
Several writers pause over the place names in this verse, though they differ on what the Hebrew means. One writer simply lists what the names mean:
the Philistines gather at Socoh of Judah, which means "enclosure of praise." They camp between it and Azekah, which means "field broken up," at Ephes-dammim, which means "end of bloodshed." Saul and the men of Israel gather in the valley of Elah, which means "strength."
Another writer takes Socoh as God's own dwelling and Azekah as the fence around it, and is careful to admit the uncertainty:
The meaning of these names is not beyond question. Still, they may give us more than a glimmer of light. Elsewhere we have taken Socoh to mean "His tabernacle," as in Lamentations 2:6 — God's dwelling place. That is the main point the Philistines aim at, and their camp lies between it and Azekah, the "fence" with which He would guard it.
Beneath the troop movements lay a question about God Himself.
This was the question about to be settled, quickly and solemnly. Did God really have a people on earth in Israel? Was the name of the LORD, tied to Israel's name, a truth or a lie — a living power or a sham? The Philistine took the side of nature and judged by appearances. That is how unbelief reasons.
While the armies faced off, God's chosen man was elsewhere, keeping sheep.
God begins with David by calling him away from the humble work of keeping sheep. He brings him right into Israel's troubles, so that He might see how David viewed them and how they would affect him.
- Ground. Two armies hold two hills with a valley between. Whoever attacks first fights uphill. It is a deadlock no human plan can break.
- King. Saul is already under sentence. The standoff puts his failure on public view.
- Trial. Pressure is the test that separates "the man of form" from "the man of power" — resources show up only under strain.
- Question. The real issue is not troop strength. It is whether God has a people. Unbelief judges by appearances and says He does not.
- Answer. God's reply is not a stronger army but a shepherd. He calls David from the sheepfold into the middle of the trouble.
And Saul and the men of Israel were gathered together, and encamped in the valley of terebinths, and set the battle in array against the Philistines.
Two armies face each other across a valley, and Israel draws up its line for war. It looks like the opening of a battle, but it is the opening of a test — of Israel, of Saul, and of David.
The lay of the land explains why neither army moved.
The time comes when both Saul and David are to be publicly proven as regards their fitness to rule over Israel. The Philistines had been beaten before through Jonathan's faith. Now they return to challenge Israel, but with a different approach. The armies of Israel hold a height on one side of the valley, and the Philistines are stationed on the other side. If one army wanted to attack, they would have to cross the valley and climb up the other side, which would put them at great disadvantage.
The valley is named after a tree, and that tree stands for strength.
Saul and the army of Israel are encamped in the valley of Elah, or "the terebinth," named like the oak from its strength. It is one thing to be in that position, and another to have gained the blessing of it. Under their failed head, the Israelites have not gained it. In the presence of the enemy they have no strength.
This gathering of armies is a test, and Saul has faced one before.
Here we come to something designed to bring out the true character and worth of Saul and David — the man of form and the man of power. It is trial that brings out the reality of a man's resources. Saul had already been proved, for "all the people had followed him trembling," nor was he likely to prove a more soul-stirring leader on this occasion. A man forsaken by God and troubled by an evil spirit was hardly fit to lead an army into battle. He was even less fit to face the powerful giant of Gath alone.
Rank and title should have settled who would answer Goliath. It did not.
Saul's incompetence and helplessness show themselves — personally and officially. As king, he should have been the one to take up Goliath's challenge. Faith in God would have more than made up for the difference in size, which he felt painfully. Faith is the only safe principle to act on. The reasoning of nature is always at fault, but faith has a line of reasoning all its own (Rom. 8:31-39), and David is the one to use it here.
A battle line drawn up is not the same as an army that will fight.
Saul might set the army in array. The hosts might go out to the place of fight and shout for the battle (1 Sam. 17:19-21). But then the champion came up out of the ranks of the Philistines — Goliath of Gath — and spoke the same words as before. And all the men of Israel, when they saw the man, fled from him and were much afraid (1 Sam. 17:23-24). This happened just as David reached the camp.
Behind the military question stood a far larger one. The Philistine judged it by what he could see.
This was the very question coming to a swift and solemn decision. Did God really have a people on earth in Israel? Was the name of Jehovah, tied to the name of Israel, a truth or a falsehood, a living power or a sham? The Philistine took the side of nature, founded on appearances. And indeed there was little to show that Israel were the people of God. Their condition was deplorable and their degradation almost complete. So the Philistine could find plenty of reasons to believe it was all pretence. So unbelief usually reasons — from appearances.
The armies in this verse are the setting, not the contest.
In that well known scene in the valley of Elah (1 Samuel 17), the conflict lay between the champions of Israel and Philistia, David and Goliath. On either side of the valley stood the two armies in battle array, yet the battle lay wholly between their representatives.
Mackintosh sees a purpose behind Israel's helplessness.
It is plain that the blessed God was about to show Israel again that, as a people, they were powerless. Their only deliverance, as of old, was the arm of Jehovah. He was still ready to act in His wonderful character of "a man of war," whenever faith addressed Him as such.
- Position. Israel camped in a valley named for strength, but holding the position is not the same as having the power.
- Pressure. Trial brings out what a man really has, and Saul had nothing.
- Parade. Israel could form ranks and shout for battle, then flee at the sight of one man.
- Point. The real question was not military. Was the Lord's link with this people a living power or a sham?
- Proxy. Two armies watched from the hills while one man settled it. Israel had to learn that deliverance was the arm of the Lord alone.
And the Philistines stood on the mountain on the one side, and Israel stood on the mountain on the other side; and the ravine was between them.
Two armies face each other from opposite hills. The verse turns on the ground between them — a valley neither side dares cross. Older translations call it a ravine. Everything in the chapter hangs on that empty space: who will go down into it, and for whom?
Each army held high ground. The gap between them made the first move the costly one.
The time comes when both Saul and David are to be publicly proven as regards their fitness to rule over Israel. The Philistines had been beaten before, through Jonathan's faith. Now they come back to challenge Israel, but with a different approach. The armies of Israel hold a height on one side of a valley, and the Philistines hold a height on the other. To attack, an army would have to cross the valley and climb the far side. That would put it at great disadvantage.
One writer takes the two facing armies as a picture of the world we live in.
High mountains on either side, and the deep valley in between. Notice how boldly the giant went down into the valley, and demanded somebody to meet him there. The armies of Israel are on one side of the valley, and the Philistines on the other — a picture, I do not doubt, of what is in this world. Satan has his forces and armies, plenty of them. What is more, he is the enemy of God and man. Let me tell you, friend, that you cannot cope with him.
Goliath's challenge changed the kind of war it was. One man on each side would now settle it.
Goliath's challenge to settle the matter by single combat made the struggle in the valley of Elah very unusual. It was exactly the kind of fight in which one man could distinguish himself. This was not army against army, as usual. The question was who, in all the army of Israel, would dare to stand before the terrible uncircumcised enemy. In fact, the blessed God was clearly about to show Israel again that, as a people, they were completely powerless. Their only deliverance, as of old, was the arm of the Lord. He was still ready to act in His wonderful character of "a man of war," whenever faith called on Him as such.
Both armies stood and watched. One man on each side fought, and everyone else lived with the result.
This is strikingly illustrated by that well known scene in the valley of Elah (1 Samuel 17). The conflict lay between the champions of Israel and Philistia, David and Goliath. The two armies stood drawn up for battle on either side of the valley. Yet the battle lay wholly between their two representatives.
Day after day the challenge came, and no one in Israel answered. Commentators ask what that deadlock pictures.
In Goliath we see the power of the enemy by which he held the soul in terrible bondage. From this power there was no means of deliverance within human reach. The challenge could go out day after day — but all in vain. From age to age the solemn verdict sounded among the countless people of Adam's fallen race: "it is appointed for man to die once, and after that comes judgment." The only answer man could give was the answer Israel gave in the valley of Elah — dismay, deep, deep dismay. "Through fear of death" they were "subject to lifelong slavery." This was man's response.
One writer sets out four layers of meaning in the chapter.
It is a story which describes the unshakable courage of a young man. It is history, and that makes it interesting — though not all history is interesting or instructive. It illustrates the eventual triumph of the remnant of Israel over their Gentile enemies. It gives Christians valuable instruction. It helps them overcome problems that look impossible in a hostile world. Most importantly, it gives a picture of our Lord Jesus Christ and His great victory over the power of Satan.
- Valley — Neither side could cross without great loss, so both armies froze. The setting itself creates the deadlock.
- Deadlock — Goliath's challenge turned a national war into single combat. No man in Israel would go down, and that proved the people powerless.
- Enemy — Goliath pictures a power that holds the soul in bondage. No deliverance lay within human reach, and dismay was the only answer.
- Substitute — Both armies stood still while two representatives fought. The outcome for everyone hung on one man.
- Victory — The scene points to Israel's future triumph. It speaks to Christians facing impossible problems. Above all it points to Christ's victory over Satan.
And there went out a champion from the camp of the Philistines, named Goliath, of Gath, whose height was six cubits and a span.
Two armies face each other across the valley of Elah. Out of one camp steps a single man whose size settles the argument before a blow is struck. His title, his town and his measurements all mark out a power no one in Israel can match.
The Philistines did not send an army into the valley. They sent one man.
It appears that the Philistines had a champion: Goliath of Gath, "a man of war from his youth". His height was six cubits and a span, or about ten feet. That is a very tall man!... In plain language, to human eyes the leader of the Philistine army could not be harmed. No man dared to fight him or answer his challenge.
His town explains his size. Scripture links Gath with the last survivors of a race of giants.
The city of Gath was famous as the dwelling place of the last of the Anakims — a race of giants (Joshua 11:21-22; 1 Sam. 17:4). However, the might of man proves to be of no avail against the power of God.
The number six runs through Goliath's description. Commentators read it as the number of man at full stretch, and still under God's limit.
The way Scripture uses six suggests its meaning. The six days speak of work and its limit... The number is often tied to men's effort to be independent of God. It shaped the height of Goliath, the defier of Israel, and the weight of his spear (1 Sam. 17:4-7)... But Goliath was overthrown, in the name of the living God, by David... So God has put His limit upon man's day, and will triumph over him when he reaches his highest point.
The pattern is not limited to his height. One writer counts it through the whole description:
It is significant that six is a number stamped upon the Philistine giants — see 1 Samuel 17:4-7; 2 Samuel 21:20. Goliath's height was six cubits and a span, six pieces of his armour are specified, his spear's head weighed six hundred shekels.
The two names carry a message of their own.
Goliath means, we believe, "banishment, exile", and the name of his city makes that meaning even stronger. Gath means the "wine-press". We have linked it before with what seems its only explanation here — the weighty saying in Revelation, "He will tread the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty." "Banishment from God in His wrath" we may take as the true thought carried by the frightening figure of Goliath of Gath.
Goliath aimed his taunt at soldiers. He had misjudged who stood behind them.
Sure of his strength, he stands out before the assembled people and challenges them. Once he has filled with terror the people he wants to subdue, he cries out, "I defy the ranks of Israel this day!" He does not know that he is not dealing with Israel but with God. In defying God's people, he is defying God Himself. This is his downfall.
His confidence had evidence behind it. Israel looked like nothing.
The Philistine took the side of nature, founded on appearances. And indeed there was little to show that Israel were the people of God. Their condition was wretched and their humiliation almost complete, so the Philistine could find plenty of reasons to think the whole claim was empty pretence... This is how unbelief usually reasons from appearances.
Israel had a king of its own. Beside Goliath he counted for nothing.
Against such armour and such a height, the king of Israel looks tiny and his armour worthless, for he has nothing but his natural advantages. Even Jonathan, a man of faith, cannot stand up to this terrifying attack... All of this is striking. Israel's utter powerlessness to do anything shows how completely they needed a deliverer.
Several writers read the giant as a picture of a greater enemy, and David's method as a picture of how that enemy fell.
If David is a picture of the Messiah, Goliath is just as truly a symbol of Satan's power... The great enemy is not yet banished from the scene of Messiah's glory, but he must learn the power of Israel's future king.
Death was that enemy's weapon, and it became the means of his own defeat.
The Lord Jesus used the very weapon that made men tremble to defeat Satan and break the power of death. For it is written, "Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, He Himself likewise partook of the same things, that through death He might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery" (Heb. 2:14-15).
- Champion. One man from Gath, the town where the last of the giants lived, was enough to stop a whole army.
- Six. Six marks his height and his gear — the number of man at full stretch, still under God's limit.
- Banishment. Commentators read his name as "exile" and Gath as "wine-press" — together a picture of banishment from God in His wrath.
- Defiance. He thought he was insulting Israel's ranks; he was defying God, and that was his ruin.
- Deliverer. The king looked tiny beside him and Jonathan could not face him. Israel needed someone else — and in the end the enemy fell by his own weapon.
And he had a helmet of bronze upon his head, and he was clothed with a corselet of scales; and the weight of the corselet was five thousand shekels of bronze.
Goliath is described by what he wears, not by what he does. Scripture counts his gear piece by piece, and commentators ask two things of that list: what the metal and the weight were, and why the count matters.
One writer sums up the impression this equipment made:
The Philistines had a champion — Goliath of Gath, "a man of war from his youth" — whose height was six cubits and a span, or about ten feet. … In plain language, the leader of the Philistine armies, to man's eye, was invulnerable. No man dared to meet him in conflict, or respond to his challenge.
The word behind "coat of mail" is shiryon. It turns up again a few verses later, when Saul puts his own armour on David:
Saul put on David a "coat of mail," shiryon. 1 Sam. 17:5, 38. This word is translated "habergeon" in 2 Chr. 26:14; Neh. 4:16, which also means "coat of mail," and there is a similar word in Job 41:26. It was made of brass scales fastened together. The weight of Goliath's coat of mail was 5,000 shekels.
The verse names the metal twice. Older translations call it brass; the ESV calls it bronze. One writer draws a meaning from that metal, then stops:
He is in armour of brass, a metal so often connected with the unyielding character of judgment. His heart is shut in with scales of brass. We have too little practice in divine symbolism to go further here safely.
Count the pieces of armour listed in verses 5 to 7. The same number runs through his height and his spear:
Just as seven is the number of completeness and perfection, so six is the number of human incompleteness and imperfection. It is significant that six is a number stamped upon the Philistine giants — see 1 Samuel 17:4-7; 2 Samuel 21:20. Goliath's height was six cubits and a span; six pieces of his armour are specified; his spear's head weighed six hundred shekels.
Another writer follows that number through Scripture and shows how it always ends:
The number is often linked with the effort of men to be independent of God. It entered into the height of Goliath, the defier of Israel, and the weight of his spear (1 Sam. 17:4-7). It was also a factor in the idolatrous image set up by Nebuchadnezzar (Dan. 3:1). That image foreshadowed the "Beast," who gathers to himself all that is great in manhood to oppose God, and whose number is the number of a man, 666 (Rev. 13:18). But Goliath was overthrown, in the name of the living God, by David … and the Beast is to be cast into the lake of fire. So God has put His limit upon man's day, and will triumph over him when he reaches his highest point.
One writer reads each piece of the armour as a picture. The helmet gets the most pointed treatment:
His armour is mentioned, first his helmet of brass. As a picture, this tells us he has closed his head (his mind) to the influence of the word of God. For "the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers" (2 Cor. 4:4). His whole body was protected in the same way by armour of great weight, so that a sword in the hand of a weaker man would mean nothing. He illustrates the stature and power of the well-trained debaters of this world, the boasted strength of man in the flesh.
Israel had a king with armour of his own. Set beside Goliath, he counts for nothing:
Against such armour and such a stature, the king of Israel appears as a dwarf, and his armour worthless. He has no excellence except what belongs to him by nature. Even Jonathan, man of faith though he is, cannot withstand the fearful assault. All here is most striking and suggestive. The utter powerlessness of Israel to do anything shows the complete need of a deliverer.
The giant's strength and protection are itemised. David's are not:
The giant's strength was expressed by his sword and his spear. His protection was his helmet of brass, his greaves of brass, his small shield of brass, and the man who carried his shield. David's strength and protection were "in the name of the LORD of hosts."
- Bronze. The coat was brass scales fastened together, weighing five thousand shekels. The same word describes the armour Saul later put on David.
- Judgment. Scripture ties that metal to unyielding judgment. Here it closes around a heart shut in behind scales.
- Six. Six cubits tall, six pieces of armour, six hundred shekels in his spearhead. Six is the number of human incompleteness — man at his proudest.
- Helplessness. Set beside this, Israel's own king and his armour count for nothing. No man there could answer the challenge.
- Deliverer. The giant's strength is weighed piece by piece. David's strength was the name of the LORD of hosts. God sets His limit on man's day at his highest point.
And he had greaves of bronze upon his legs, and a javelin of bronze between his shoulders.
This verse ends the head-to-foot list of Goliath's gear: metal on his legs, metal slung across his back. The details are not filler. They raise the question the whole chapter turns on: can appearances settle anything when God is in the field?
Two rare Hebrew words sit in this verse, and one of them is hard to pin down:
GREAVES. The giant wore Greaves of brass upon his legs (1 Samuel 17:6). The word is mitschah, and occurs nowhere else.
TARGET. He had a target of brass between his shoulders (1 Samuel 17:6). The word is kidon. Elsewhere it is translated both 'shield' and 'spear.' Here it was most likely a small spear carried between the shoulders.
Older English Bibles read "target" , a small shield. Modern versions read javelin instead, and so does one writer as he runs through the giant's gear:
Why all that armour? Why the helmet, the coat of mail, the greaves of brass on his legs, a javelin of brass — not a small shield — between his shoulders, and a shield-bearer walking in front of him?
The list is not only a description. A man sure of himself does not need this much cover:
What care Goliath had taken for his own safety! He was covered in scaly armour, and a man walked ahead of him carrying a shield that hid his whole body. Dressed like that, and only after taking all those precautions, this giant challenged the Israelites to single combat to the death. Appearances were all in his favour: his height was impressive, and his armour looked impossible to pierce. But those precautions showed he had no real confidence in himself. He was afraid of the men he sneered at as the servants of Saul. How bold the enemy can be before those who are afraid of him!
Israel's refusal was not simple cowardice. One writer reads their fear as good sense:
Do you say, What cowards? You and I would have done just the same, I expect. That is the real truth. They knew it was no use. It was certain death for them to face the giant. With his huge weapons, and the strength to swing them, standing against him could only end in defeat. "They were dismayed and greatly afraid" — and I don't call them a pack of cowards. I think the men were wise.
The brass here is copper, and Scripture gives that metal a settled meaning:
These verses, and others we could add, make clear what copper stands for — durability, strength, and a refusal to bend, whether in protection, in chains, or in war. Applied to the nature of God, it speaks of His unchanging character, His strength, and the impossibility of escaping His judgment. On the other side, it speaks of the safety of those under His protection.
On a man, the same metal pictures a mind sealed shut and a body no ordinary attack can reach:
His helmet of brass tells us he has closed his head — his mind — to the word of God... In the same way, heavy armour covered his whole body, so a sword in a weaker man's hand would mean nothing. His spear stands out for its size, both the shaft and the head. He could reach past any ordinary opponent and kill him before that man got close enough to strike. He pictures the size and power of this world's trained debaters, the boasted strength of human nature.
Set the giant's gear beside David's, and the contrast speaks for itself:
The giant's strength lay in his sword and his spear. His protection lay in his helmet of brass, his greaves of brass, his target of brass, and the man who carried his shield. David's strength and protection were "in the name of the LORD of hosts."
Underneath the standoff lay a deeper argument, and the giant had taken a side in it:
The Philistine took the side of nature, judging by appearances. And there really was little to show that Israel were the people of God. Their condition was wretched and their disgrace almost complete, so the Philistine could find plenty of reasons to think the whole claim was nothing more than a pretence... This is how unbelief normally reasons from appearances.
- Words. The word for greaves appears nowhere else in the Bible, and the thing between his shoulders was most likely a javelin, not a shield.
- Armour. The brass covering him head to foot put the giant out of reach of any weapon a weaker man could swing.
- Fear. All that cover, plus a shield-bearer walking ahead, exposes a champion less sure of himself than his shouting suggested.
- Appearances. Goliath argued from what he could see, and by that measure Israel had no case. Unbelief still argues the same way.
- Answer. Brass met a sling. What decided the day was not David's gear but the name of the LORD of hosts.
And the shaft of his spear was like a weaver's beam; and his spear's head weighed six hundred shekels of iron; and the shield-bearer went before him.
This verse ends the description of Goliath's gear, right down to the man who carried his shield in front of him. Commentators find meaning in the reach of the spear, in the repeated number six, and in that extra man.
A dictionary of Bible terms explains where the image comes from:
The Israelites knew how to weave, and they used the skill to make fine work for the tabernacle and the priests' robes. Scripture often mentions a weaver's beam as a heavy thing for a man to use as a weapon.
One writer weighs that spear and that armour against an ordinary fighter:
Heavy armour covered his whole body, so a sword in the hand of a weaker man would mean nothing. The account stresses the size of his weapon, his spear — both the shaft and the head. He could outreach any ordinary opponent and kill him before that man came close enough to strike. He shows us the size and power of the trained debaters of this world, the boasted strength of man in the flesh.
The figure of six hundred is not the only six in the passage. One writer counts them:
Just as seven is the number of completeness and perfection, so six is the number of human incompleteness and imperfection. It is significant that six is a number stamped upon the Philistine giants — see 1 Samuel 17:4-7; 2 Samuel 21:20. Goliath stood six cubits and a span tall. The text lists six pieces of his armour. His spear's head weighed six hundred shekels.
The same number turns up elsewhere in Scripture, and each time God has the last word:
Scripture often links this number with man's effort to be independent of God. It entered into the height of Goliath, the defier of Israel, and the weight of his spear (1 Sam. 17:4-7). It shaped both the width and the height of the idol image that Nebuchadnezzar set up (Dan. 3:1). That image points forward to the "Beast," who gathers to himself all that is great in man to oppose God, and whose number, the number of a man, is 666 (Rev. 13:18). But David overthrew Goliath in the name of the living God. Men of faith despised and insulted Nebuchadnezzar's great image, going into the fiery furnace rather than bow to it. And the Beast will be thrown into the lake of fire. So God has put His limit upon man's day, and will triumph over him when he reaches his highest point.
One writer reads the shield-bearer as a sign of the giant's own fear:
Why all that armour — the helmet, the coat of mail, the brass leg guards, a brass javelin (not a small shield) slung between his shoulders, and an armour-bearer walking ahead of him with a shield? What care Goliath had taken to keep himself safe!... Everything about him looked impressive. His height was imposing, and his armour looked impossible to pierce. But all these precautions showed that he did not trust himself, and that he feared the men he sneered at as the servants of Saul. How bold the enemy can be in front of people who are afraid of him!
Commentators read the giant in more than one way. Grant, above, sees human strength on show. Another sees the enemy behind that power:
Goliath, the giant, is a picture of Satan, the prince of this world, who has the power of death... The bold and defiant language Goliath used, and the terror he spread among the people of God, apply easily to Satan and his power.
The contrast the chapter sets up is between two kinds of equipment:
The giant's strength lay in his sword and his spear. His protection lay in his brass helmet, his brass leg guards, his small brass shield, and the man who carried his shield for him. David's strength and protection were "in the name of the LORD of hosts."
And the outcome turned the giant's own equipment against him:
The giant might look down on the young man and his shepherd's staff, but the young man overcame him and killed him with his own sword. In the same way, death brought Satan and his power to nothing — and death was the very weapon Satan had used to terrify people.
- Measured — a shaft like a weaver's beam and a six-hundred-shekel head gave Goliath reach. He could strike before an ordinary opponent got near.
- Numbered — six cubits tall, six pieces of armour, six hundred shekels of iron. Six is the number of man apart from God, and it runs on to the 666 of Revelation.
- Guarded — the shield-bearer walking in front shows the fear behind the boast. The enemy is boldest in front of people who already fear him.
- Limited — the image in Daniel 3 and the Beast end as Goliath ended. God sets a limit on man's day and defeats human power at its peak.
- Answered — the giant's strength lay in his sword and spear. David's lay in the name of the LORD of hosts, and the giant died by his own sword.
And he stood and cried to the ranks of Israel, and said to them, Why are ye come out to set your battle in array? am not I the Philistine, and ye servants of Saul? choose for yourselves a man, and let him come down to me.
Two armies face each other across the valley of Elah, and instead of a battle there is a speech. A giant steps out and turns the war into a contest between two men. His first words are not a boast but an insult about what Israel had become.
Goliath's sneer about serving Saul was not just abuse. It named something Israel had brought on themselves, and Samuel had warned them of it long before.
For forty days in a row the Philistine came near and presented himself in view of the unhappy Saul and his terrified army. Notice his bitter taunt — "Am I not a Philistine, and are you not servants of Saul?" Sadly, it was all too true. They had come down from their high position as servants of Jehovah to become mere servants of Saul. Samuel had warned them of all this. He had told them they would become footmen, bakers, cooks and confectioners to the master they had chosen for themselves. And all this was their own choice, instead of having the Lord God of Israel as their only master and King.
Notice the two titles set side by side. Goliath names Israel by their king; David will later name them by their God.
The giant of Gath puts the question of supremacy very plainly: "Am I not a Philistine, and are you not servants of Saul?" Not servants of Jehovah — or, as David calls the hosts of Israel, the armies of the living God. It is the anointed king who lays the champion low.
Goliath judged Israel by what he could see. A bigger question stood behind the taunt.
This was the question now coming to a swift and solemn test: did God really have a people on earth in Israel? Was the name of Jehovah, bound up with Israel's name, a truth or a lie, a living power or a sham? The Philistine took the side of nature, founded on appearances. And indeed there was little to show that Israel were the people of God. Their condition was pitiful, their humiliation almost complete, and the Philistine could find plenty of reasons to believe it was all just a pretence. Their rescue from Egypt, their journey through the desert, even the conquest of Canaan — what were these but the lying legends of their priests? ... It is in this way that unbelief usually reasons from appearances.
The terms he shouted across the valley left no middle ground.
He challenged anyone to single combat, and slavery was the penalty for the losing side. The crisis had now come, and the question was put squarely. If Israel's champion lost, Israel would serve the Philistines. If Goliath was killed, the Philistines offered to serve Israel. The enemy would allow no compromise now. Victory or slavery, with no hope or prospect that it would ever end.
Goliath asked for one champion, not army against army.
Goliath's challenge to settle the matter by single combat made the struggle in the valley of Elah very unusual. It was exactly the kind of contest in which one man might be singled out. It was not army against army, as in ordinary cases. The question was who, in the whole host of Israel, would dare to stand before the terrifying uncircumcised enemy. In fact, it is plain that the blessed God was about to show Israel again that, as a people, they had no power at all. Their only deliverance, as in the past, was the arm of Jehovah, who was still ready to act in His wonderful character of "a man of war," whenever faith called on Him as such.
One writer sees this demand for a champion pointing far beyond the valley:
That is the boldest challenge, I think, found in all the Bible. And what man could come? No man in Israel's army would come. Saul would not go out, and he was head and shoulders above the rest. And Jonathan would not go out. They were wise. "Choose a man for yourselves" was the word. But the chosen man was not there. Do you know where He came from? He came down from the Father's side. God's man was no mere child of Adam. What child of Adam could overcome Satan?
The same reproach has landed since. God's people can still take their standing from the favour of rulers.
The Churches, in their zeal against the papacy and their unwise excitement over the favour of kings, really took up the very position the Philistine had thrown at Israel — being "servants to Saul."
- Servants. The insult exposed a real loss: a people meant to serve God had settled for serving the king they chose.
- Supremacy. The giant made it a question of who rules — Saul's servants or the armies of the living God.
- Sight. Judging Israel by appearances, he concluded their whole history with God was a fable; that is how unbelief usually reasons.
- Stalemate. His terms allowed no compromise: one champion, and the loser's side into endless slavery.
- Saviour. "Choose a man" found no one in Israel's ranks — the man who came was God's choice, not theirs.
If he be able to fight with me, and to smite me, then will we be your servants; but if I overcome and smite him, then shall ye be our servants and serve us.
Two armies face each other across the valley of Elah. A giant offers to settle the whole war with one fight, and the losing nation becomes slaves — so who in Israel will stand?
The offer sounds almost sporting, but it closes every other door. For forty days the same demand was made, and the penalty fixed to it left no middle ground:
For forty days he defied Israel — a pitiful sight — challenging anyone to single combat, with slavery as the penalty for the loser. The crisis had now come, and the question was put plainly. If Goliath beat their champion, Israel would be servants to the Philistines. If Israel's champion killed Goliath, the Philistines offered to be servants to Israel. The enemy would no longer allow any compromise. Victory or slavery, with no hope or prospect of any end to it.
A single fight leaves a nation nowhere to hide. Commentators see God's hand in the shape of the challenge:
Goliath's challenge to settle the matter by single combat made the struggle in the valley of Elah very unusual. It was not army against army, as in ordinary battles. It was a question of who, in all the army of Israel, would dare to stand before that terrible uncircumcised foe. In fact, it is plain that God was about to make clear to Israel again that, as a people, they were completely powerless. Their only deliverance, as of old, was the arm of the LORD.
Israel's tallest man was their king, and he was as afraid as the rest.
Goliath's challenge fills the hearts of the men of Israel (including Saul) with fear and dismay. He defies the armies of Israel, asking for one man to come and fight with him. The whole issue of victory for either side would depend on which man killed the other. Even Saul, though head and shoulders above the rest of the people, was no match for the giant. He had rejected the Word of the LORD, so he could expect no help from Him.
Goliath's opening taunt fixes a label on Israel before he ever names his terms, and the label itself is part of the attack:
The question of supremacy is very definitely put by the giant of Gath in 1 Samuel 17:8-9: "Am not I a Philistine, and you servants of Saul?" (not servants of the LORD, or, as David calls the hosts of Israel, the armies of the living God).
David, arriving later, refuses that description of his people:
Goliath called his opponents the servants of Saul... He, however, remembered who Israel really were, namely, the armies of the living God. In this way he answered them, and in the same way he spoke to Saul... Could the armies of the living God be overthrown? Could death triumph in such circumstances? His words were the simple truth. They should have settled the question for Saul and for Israel, as it was already settled for him.
Commentators see in Goliath a picture of an enemy still at work:
Goliath, as the enemy of the LORD's people, is only a figure of the power of Satan; and Satan is more than a match for you or me. Satan is crafty as well as powerful... I know perfectly well that people say, "I don't believe in him, or in his power." That is just the evidence of his power. He blinds men's eyes to their true state. They are really captive, but think themselves free.
His name and his hometown point the same way:
Goliath means, we believe, "banishment, exile"; and the city he belongs to adds to the force of it. Gath means the "wine-press"... We may take "banishment from God in His wrath" as the true thought carried by the threatening figure of Goliath of Gath.
The terms cut both ways. If the stakes of the fight fall on everyone, so does the win:
"And the men of Israel and of Judah rose with a shout." Every doubt and fear vanished when their victorious representative returned. His victory was their victory. They were as clear and as free from the Philistine oppressor as he was... Our Lord Jesus, greater than David, has gone into death's dark valley, "delivered up for our trespasses." ... Our great Representative has defeated the foe. He has come up out of the valley, "raised for our justification." His victory is our victory. His freedom is our freedom.
- The terms. One fight, two outcomes, no compromise: victory or slavery with no end in sight.
- The exposure. Single combat left the nation nowhere to hide: a powerless people, and a king who could expect no help from God.
- The taunt. Goliath called them servants of Saul. David called them the armies of the living God, and that one name settled the question for him.
- The real enemy. Goliath pictures a power that holds people captive while they think they are free. Even his name carries the thought of banishment from God.
- The representative. Because the battle rested on one man, his win became everyone's win. That is the pattern of a greater Champion who went down into the valley and came up again — and His freedom is now ours.
And the Philistine said, I have defied the ranks of Israel this day; give me a man, that we may fight together.
Twice a day for forty days, Goliath came out and called for one man to fight him. No one in Israel moved. His challenge raised a bigger question: did the God of Israel still have a people on earth?
The giant's taunt stung because it was true. He called them servants of Saul, and that is what the nation had chosen to become.
Notice his bitter taunt — "Am I not a Philistine, and are you not servants of Saul?" Sadly, it was all too true. They had come down from their high position as servants of the Lord to become mere servants of Saul. Samuel had warned them of all this. He had told them they would become runners, bakers, cooks and confectioners to the master they chose for themselves. That was their choice, instead of having the Lord God of Israel as their only master and King.
Goliath named Israel. Faith heard another name. (Older translations read "I defy the armies of Israel" here.)
Goliath's defiance insulted the Lord's name. That insult stirred the devout shepherd boy and drove him out to stand in the gap. "Who is this uncircumcised Philistine, that he should defy the armies of the living God?" This was David's view of the situation. The giant of Gath stood and cried, "I defy the armies of Israel," but David was not misled by his words at all. (1 Sam. 17:10, 26.) Whatever the enemy might claim about the nation's weakness and decline, the armies of Israel were still the armies of the living God.
The giant's confidence rested on a mistake about who his real opponent was.
Sure of his strength, he presents himself before the assembled people and challenges them. When he has managed to strike terror into those he wants to subdue, he cries out: "I defy the ranks of Israel this day!" He does not know that he is not dealing with Israel, but with God. In defying His people he is defying God Himself. This is his downfall.
Goliath was arguing from what anyone could see.
This was the very question coming to a quick and serious test. Did God really have a people on earth in Israel? Is the name of the Lord, tied to Israel's name, a truth or a lie, a living power or a sham? The Philistine took the side of nature, based on appearances. And indeed there was little to show that Israel were the people of God. Their condition was wretched and their humiliation nearly complete. The Philistine could find plenty of reasons to believe it was all mere pretence… This is how unbelief usually reasons from appearances.
Goliath repeated his demand morning and evening, and no one came out. One writer sees purpose in the delay.
I can well understand the feelings of those men, Saul and all. This giant came out the first morning and evening, saying, "Give me a man." They look round for the man, but he was not there. Then the second day, "Give me a man," rings in their ears again, and the same thing goes on for forty long days. This tests the hosts of Israel completely and shows their weakness and total inability. Dismay and deep anxiety grip them. No deliverer appears until they have a true and deep sense of their own helplessness. Then is the moment for God to step in. "For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly" (Romans 5:6).
One commentator asks about a man who is missing from this scene.
What about Jonathan in all this? He had acted with such simple faith and energy before. Why was he not ready now to go out against this champion? … The flaw in his faith shows in the words, "if they say this." Faith never says "if"; it has to do only with God. … Here there was a demand for something far deeper than anything Jonathan had known.
Israel's leaders and strongest fighters all stayed silent.
Neither Saul, nor Jonathan, nor any of the mighty men of Israel felt able to accept Goliath's challenge. He called for a fight to the death. Then God brought forward His man. He came to meet the proud boasting of the giant, and to humble him before the armies of Israel and the armies of their enemies. What a wonderful picture of the Lord Jesus! He met the enemy in his power and brought him down with weapons that the enemy had despised.
- The taunt — Goliath called Israel servants of Saul, and it was true. They had traded the Lord as King for a master of their own choosing.
- The target — he named Israel, but in defying God's people he was defying God. That mistake undid him.
- The evidence — his boast rested on appearances, and Israel's state gave him plenty to work with. Unbelief usually argues that way.
- The demand — "give me a man," twice a day for forty days. No one in the camp could answer, and God waits for that sense of helplessness.
- The answer — God brought forward His man, a picture of the Lord Jesus beating the enemy with weapons the enemy despised.
And Saul and all Israel heard these words of the Philistine, and they were dismayed and greatly afraid.
Goliath calls for one man to fight him, and no one in Israel answers — not even the king. Why were God's own people left without a single man who could meet the enemy?
The dismay was not cowardice. One writer weighs the odds and finds the silence understandable.
Goliath says, "I defy the ranks of Israel this day. Give me a man, that we may fight together." He would gladly have single combat. Who responds? No one... You tell me they were cowards. No, no. I do not call it bravery to enter the contest when a man knows he must be defeated. It is folly. If you know you cannot fight the foe, it is better to leave him to another who can. The Lord says: "What king, going out to encounter another king in war, will not sit down first and deliberate whether he is able with ten thousand to meet him who comes against him with twenty thousand?" That is to say, the wise man will say, "I cannot meet this power."
Israel had demanded a king for exactly this kind of crisis.
They began with a request: "Make us a king." In the end they stated their determination: "No, but we will have a king!" "That our king may fight our battles!" As if a king with his crown among them would guarantee them victory!
Saul was the tallest man in the nation, and it made no difference.
Goliath's challenge fills the hearts of the men of Israel (including Saul) with fear and dismay... Even Saul was no match for the giant, though he stood head and shoulders above the rest of the people. He had rejected the Word of the Lord, so he could expect no help from Him.
The single-combat terms were not an accident of war; they exposed something.
This was not army against army, as battles usually are. The question was who, in all the army of Israel, would dare to stand before the terrifying uncircumcised foe. It is plain that God was about to show Israel again that, as a people, they were powerless. Their only deliverance, as of old, was the arm of the Lord. He was still ready to act in His wonderful character of "a man of war," whenever faith called on Him as such... For forty days in a row the Philistine came near and presented himself in front of the unhappy Saul and his terrified army. Notice his bitter taunt: "Am I not a Philistine, and are you not servants of Saul?" Sadly, it was all too true. They had come down from their high position as servants of the Lord to become mere servants of Saul.
The giant stands for something bigger than one battle.
Here we find a full-length portrait of the enemy of our souls. He is pictured in Goliath of Gath, in all his armour, with his armour-bearer going before him. When he made the challenge to Israel they were dismayed and they were greatly afraid... He is too much for man, he is too much for you and me.
The giant thought he was terrorising an army. He had misjudged whom he was speaking to.
Sure of his strength, he presents himself before the assembled people and challenges them. When he has filled with terror those he wants to subdue, he cries out: "I have defied the ranks of Israel this day!" He does not know that he is not dealing with Israel, but with God. In defying His people he is defying God Himself. This is his downfall.
The moment Israel runs out of answers, God moves.
I think they were afraid and dismayed because they felt it was impossible for them to cope with such a foe... While the giant is calling for a man, God introduces His man. And who is he? David, a beautiful picture of the One who is David's Son.
- Demand — Israel asked for a king to fight their battles. Goliath's challenge tests the king they chose.
- Dismay — Saul stood head and shoulders above everyone else and was still no match for Goliath. He had rejected God's word, so no help came from Him.
- Design — God was showing Israel that as a people they had no strength. Their only deliverance was His own arm.
- Defiance — the giant thought he was defying Israel. He was defying God, and that brought him down.
- Deliverer — while the giant still calls for a man, God brings forward His man. David is a picture of the One who is David's Son.
Now David was the son of that Ephrathite of Bethlehem-Judah whose name was Jesse; and he had eight sons; and the man was old in the days of Saul, advanced [in years] among men.
The giant has silenced Israel's whole army. At that moment the story stops and introduces David again — the youngest son of Jesse, an old man of Bethlehem.
Samuel anointed David in the previous chapter, so a fresh introduction of his father and family reads strangely. One writer explains the repeat as a change of camera angle.
1 Samuel 16 gave us a general description of David's character. It showed him in his position as the Lord's anointed, and in a special way in his relationship with Saul. 1 Samuel 17 takes up the description of his history from another point of view. That is why verses 12 and 13 repeat his family connections, which at first look unnecessary.
The verse calls Jesse an Ephrathite, a man of Ephrath. That town carries far more weight than its size suggests.
Samuel anointed David in the house of Jesse the Bethlehemite, so Bethlehem was apparently the place of David's birth (1 Sam. 16:4; 1 Sam. 17:12, 15). This is why Luke 2:11 calls it the "city of David." It was also the birthplace of Jesus. Though the town was "too little to be among the clans of Judah," that agreed all the better with His humiliation. Bethlehem means "house of bread." It is a very fitting name for the place the Saviour should come from as a man — He who was the living bread that came down from heaven. Apparently it was first called Ephrath, and later Ephratah, and from there the ruler of Israel was to come.
The number eight is not a throwaway detail. It settles which son Samuel anointed in the previous chapter.
"Then Samuel said to Jesse, 'Are all your sons here?' And he said, 'There remains yet the youngest, but behold, he is keeping the sheep.'" ... God chose none of the previous seven, so the youngest must have been the eighth. Again we read in 1 Samuel 17:12 that Jesse "had eight sons."
Another list in Scripture counts David differently. The same writer weighs why, and finds meaning in the number itself.
If the seven are refused and the eighth chosen in Samuel, why does Chronicles number him the seventh? Some have supposed that one of Jesse's sons died, so that David would be the seventh. ... Seven is connected with rest in creation, and eight with rest in resurrection power and glory. In Samuel, David is the eighth. He points to the true David who will restore all things, and who will reign over Israel Himself as the risen Man. ... Eight means God stepping in with grace when all is lost.
Being the youngest of eight shaped how his family treated him.
David's family thought so little of him that no one called him to the banquet where such a distinguished guest as Samuel was to preside — a rare chance to hear his wisdom... But "a prophet is not without honor except in his hometown and in his own household." It was the same with the One David pictured — "great David's greater Son" — "For not even his brothers believed in him" (John 7:5). So minding the sheep was thought fit service for the youngest of the family, but because he was faithful in the little, God would trust him with greater things.
After the anointing, David went back to his father's flock. That was no demotion.
He was again on the plain path of humble daily duty. No road is so good as this. On no other road will God's honour show more clearly when His time comes. It was there that God anointed him for the throne. It was from there that God called him to the court of Saul. And now, from the same tending of his father's flock, God worked to bring him into the great field of action, where the question between the Philistines and the living God had to be settled.
This verse brings David in at the moment Israel stands terrified. That order is the point.
The testing is complete, and it exposes the weakness and utter helplessness of Israel's armies. They are dismayed and in deep anxiety. No deliverer appears until they have a true and deep sense of their own feebleness. Then is the moment for God to step in. "For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly" (Rom. 5:6). Yes, it is just then that the gospel comes out.
- Overlooked. David was the youngest of Jesse's eight sons. His own family left him out when the prophet came. That was the same treatment later given to "great David's greater Son."
- Obscure. Bethlehem, the "house of bread," was small among Judah's towns, yet it gave the nation its king and later gave the world its Saviour.
- Last. The count of eight fixes David as the son after the seven. Chronicles calls him seventh; some explain that by a son who died young, others by what eight means — God's grace stepping in when all is lost.
- Faithful. David went back to the sheep after his anointing. Every step of his rise, from sheepfold to battlefield, started on that plain path of daily duty.
- Timed. No deliverer appeared until Israel felt its own weakness. God brings His man in exactly when strength runs out.
And the three eldest of the sons of Jesse had gone and followed Saul to the battle; and the names of his three sons that went to the battle were Eliab the firstborn, and the second to him Abinadab, and the third Shammah.
The battle scene stops for a family list: Jesse's three oldest sons marched off with Saul's army, and the verse names them. The youngest is missing from the list — and he is the man God will use.
David went back to Bethlehem to keep his father's sheep while his brothers went to war. One writer treats that ordinary job as the key to everything that follows.
David was again in the plain path of humble daily duty. No road is as good as this one, and none where God's honour will show more clearly when His time comes. It was there that God anointed him for the throne. It was from there that God called him to Saul's court. And it was now from that same care of his father's flock that God worked to bring him into the great field of action.
The three brothers joined an army that Goliath's challenge had left shaking. One writer notes the moment Scripture chooses to bring David into the story.
I think they were afraid and dismayed because they felt it was impossible for them to cope with such a foe. At this moment we get David brought on the scene. It is striking that while this man was issuing his challenge, the record turns to Jesse of Bethlehem and his sons. While the giant is shouting for a man, God introduces His man.
Eliab, Abinadab and Shammah were in the fighting force. One writer asks the obvious question: why did none of them act?
David was carried forward by an energy Eliab knew nothing about. Why had Eliab not acted himself for the defence of his brothers? Why had Abinadab or Shammah not acted? Because they were faithless; simply this. Not only did those three men stay powerless; the whole assembly stayed terrified in front of the enemy. And now one appeared among them whom God was about to use in a remarkable way — and not one of them could understand him.
The verse records birth order, and Eliab heads the list. One writer looks at the firstborn's name, his looks, and his place at the head of the family.
Eliab is the firstborn, and has a beautiful name and an impressive presence. Eliab means "God" — or "my God is Father"... Notice, again, that Eliab is the firstborn and David is at the other end, the eighth. This counts against Eliab, though his fine appearance may appeal even to a prophet. He comes under the law of Genesis, and shows the rule that the natural comes first and the spiritual afterwards (1 Cor. 15:46). But the Christ cannot belong to the natural line, and so cannot belong to the old creation. The eighth speaks of the new, and Eliab must give place to David.
David had already served in Saul's court as his armour-bearer. One writer asks what it meant for him to go back to the sheep while his brothers went to war.
I note this, because it shows the changes that are so useful and necessary for divine discipline. David had lived in the palace as the king's armour-bearer. Saul loved him dearly, and David had done him the most notable services. But he passes from this to the humble place of caring for his father's sheep in the wilderness. Out of sight, he serves with as much zeal and gladness as in the highest position. The ease with which he passes from one to the other proves the true metal of his soul. It proves the single purpose of a faithful servant in whatever he is called to do.
- Named — The verse lists the three oldest by name and rank. It records who stood at the front, not who would win the battle.
- Absent — The verse defines David by where he was not. His father's sheep were the one place God had always used to move him forward.
- Powerless — Standing in the army was no substitute for faith. The three brothers held their place in the ranks and did nothing.
- Passed over — Eliab is first in birth and fine in appearance, yet he gives way to the eighth son. The natural comes first, the spiritual after.
- Prepared — The move from palace to sheepfold was not a step down but divine discipline. God brought the shepherd forward when the giant demanded a man.
And David was the youngest; and the three eldest had followed Saul.
Three of Jesse's sons marched off to war with the king. The youngest went back to a hillside with the sheep. Why does the story of a national crisis stop to tell us where that boy was?
The eldest went off to the battlefield. David went back to the sheep. That plain road is where God had already found him twice.
He was again in the plain path of humble daily duty. No road is really so good as this, and none where God's honour will be more found when His time comes. It was there that God anointed him for the throne. It was from there that God called him to the court of Saul. And it was now from the same tending of his father's flock that God worked to bring him into the great field of action, where the question between the Philistines and the living God had to be decided.
Being youngest cost him at home. When Samuel came to feast with the family, nobody sent for David.
The rest of the family thought so little of David that they did not call him to the banquet. Samuel, a distinguished guest, was to preside over it... So minding the sheep counted as fit service for the youngest of the family. The flock was not even large. But he was faithful in what was least, so God would entrust him with greater matters. "He chose David his servant and took him from the sheepfolds; from following the nursing ewes he brought him to shepherd Jacob his people, Israel his inheritance" (Ps. 78:70-71). Watch this tender youth following his father's flock with a careful, gentle eye on them. This marked him out as a man fitted to be the shepherd of Israel, a fitting picture of Him who was to be the Shepherd of the sheep.
The ranking inside Jesse's house was not the ranking in heaven.
And, what is still more remarkable, Jesse did not think of David in all this! The ruddy youth was alone in the wilderness with the sheep, and nobody remembered him while Jesse reviewed his other sons. But the eye of the Lord was resting on this despised youth. He saw in him the one who would stand in the line through which Christ would come as a man, to occupy the throne of David and rule over the house of Israel for ever. Truly "the LORD sees not as man sees," for "God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong... so that no human being might boast in the presence of God" (1 Cor. 1:27-29).
The story pauses here to re-introduce David. One writer reads that pause as purpose.
The history returns to David, and reminds us who he is. All this we are to keep in mind and carry with us. The three eldest of his brothers follow Saul, but David returned from Saul to his usual and meaningful occupation as shepherd of the sheep. God's king is in training, and he is not to be pulled away from it too soon.
This was a step down for David, and the ease of it reveals the man.
David had lived in the palace as the king's armour-bearer. Saul loved him dearly, and David had done him the most notable services. Yet he passes from this to the humble place of caring for his father's sheep in the wilderness. Out of sight, he serves with as much eagerness and satisfaction as in the highest position. He moves from the one to the other with ease, and this proves the true metal of his soul, and the singleness of his purpose as a faithful servant in whatever work he is called to do.
The giant was demanding an opponent. The nation had none. The timing of this family record is the answer.
When Saul and all Israel heard these words of the Philistine, they were dismayed and greatly afraid (1 Sam. 17:11). I think they were afraid and dismayed because they felt it was impossible for them to cope with such a foe. At this moment, while the giant is clamouring for a man, God introduces His man. And who is he? David, a beautiful picture of the One who is David's Son.
- Least — David comes last in the list. His family thought little of him, so the youngest son got the sheep.
- Faithful — the flock was small, but David kept it well. God gives more to the man who is faithful in what is least.
- Chosen — people rank by age and appearance. God was already looking at the forgotten son, and at the throne He meant to give him.
- Trained — the return to the sheepfold is not a setback but a school, and God does not pull His king out of it early.
- Sent — the giant demanded a champion and the nation had none. God brought forward the brother who had stayed with the sheep.
But David went and returned from Saul to feed his father's sheep at Bethlehem.
Samuel had anointed David king, and David had played the harp for King Saul and carried his armour. Now, with Israel's army facing the Philistines, he is home minding sheep — what does God do with a chosen man before his public work?
David's life had moved backwards — from the palace to a hillside outside a small town. One writer calls this the best road a man can walk.
He was again in the plain path of humble daily duty. No road is as good as this. On no other road will God's honour be seen more clearly when His time comes. There God anointed him for the throne. From there God called him to Saul's court. And now, from that same tending of his father's flock, God worked to bring him into the great field of action, where the question between the Philistines and the living God had to be settled.
Saul had loved David. This return to Bethlehem shows how that love faded once the harp was no longer needed.
David's harp playing soothed the king when the spirit that God sent on him in judgement troubled him. He loved him for the good and the relief he received. It seems this did not last long. In the next chapter David has returned from Saul to feed his father's sheep at Bethlehem. "Out of sight, out of mind" proved as true for David as for many another man who has stood in a king's court.
The ease with which David moved between the two positions is itself treated as evidence about the man.
David had been a resident of the palace, the king's armour-bearer, greatly loved by him, and had rendered him the most notable services; but he passes from this to the humble place of caring for his father's sheep in the wilderness. Unnoticed, he serves with as much zeal and satisfaction as in the highest position. The easy way he passes from one to the other proves the true metal of his soul, and the single purpose of a faithful servant in whatever he is called to do.
Were these lost months, while Israel needed a champion? Commentators answer that the sheepfold was the classroom.
He knew his place, and kept it. In that place he learnt about God in a way others had not, and that lesson fitted him for future usefulness... Was time spent this way time thrown away? Who would say that while reading Psalm 8 — a psalm that seems to record lessons learnt in the night hours? Who would say he wasted his energy in the sheepfold, when there, as a shepherd, he experienced God's deliverance?
Another writer names what those ordinary duties had already taught him.
David had already met difficulties too great for a full-grown man while doing his ordinary duties. Yet, although only a youth, he had overcome them for a very simple reason — "the LORD delivered." He had not boasted about this; it was simply doing his duty. But in it he had learnt the strength and faithfulness of the LORD.
Nothing in the record hints at frustration. What sends him to the battlefield at last is not ambition but an errand from his father.
There is no sign of David fretting among the sheepfolds, or resenting being away from the armies of Israel. At his father's bidding he is content to be his messenger. He takes food to his brothers and a present to their captain, and brings back news of how they are. The simplicity of David's obedience is very beautiful: his own will is entirely out of sight, and his father's will is the only reason for his mission.
The verse holds two things together: a man anointed for the throne, and a shepherd doing the lowliest work.
It was in his own town that David looked after his father's sheep and did his duties faithfully. This remarkable blend of royal dignity and lowly service in David was later seen in divine perfection in the Son of God.
- Returned. Anointed king and court musician, David goes back to a few sheep. He takes the lowest place without complaint.
- Forgotten. Saul's love lasted only as long as the harp was useful. Many another man in a king's court has learned the same.
- Tested. He served with the same zeal in the sheepfold as in the palace. That proved the true metal of his soul.
- Trained. The wilderness was not lost time. There he learned that "the LORD delivered," and that lesson went with him into the great field of action.
- Sent. From that plain path of duty, at his father's simple bidding, God brought him out at the exact hour Israel needed him.
And the Philistine drew near morning and evening, and presented himself forty days.
Twice a day for nearly six weeks, one man stepped into the valley of Elah and demanded a champion from Israel. Nobody came out. The verse records no action, only time passing — and commentators find the whole point of the story in those empty days.
The number forty is not random here. It marks a set time of testing all through Scripture — and it runs out the moment David arrives.
Notice, too, the time that David left the retirement of his father's house. Verse 16 says the Philistine "took his stand" for forty days. In the very next verse, David's father sends him. Now, the number forty in the word of God denotes the time of trial or testing — man's testing. Moses was forty years in the court of Pharaoh, forty years in Midian, and forty years the leader of God's people, Israel. He was forty days and forty nights in the mount of God. The Israelites were tested forty years in the wilderness. And the Lord Jesus, the second Man, was tested and tried for forty days in the wilderness. All the time before Christ came, man was on trial. That lasted forty centuries — four thousand years. The trial of the human race ended when Jesus came into the world. He only came when man had failed and done his worst.
The delay was working on both armies. One writer weighs what each passing day did, and finds God's patience in the wait.
"For forty days the Philistine came forward and took his stand, morning and evening." What amazing patience on God's part! Every day, of course, increased the self-confidence of the Philistine champion. Every day added to Israel's dismay.
Goliath's swagger is not the whole picture. One writer looks at what the giant wore into the valley.
Why all that armour — the helmet, the coat of mail, the bronze guards on his legs, the bronze javelin between his shoulders, and an armour-bearer with a shield walking in front of him? See how carefully Goliath guarded his own safety! He did not challenge Israel to a one-on-one fight to the death until he had taken all those precautions. But those precautions showed that he lacked confidence in himself, and that he feared the men he sneered at as the servants of Saul. How bold the enemy can be in front of people who are afraid of him! When Saul and all Israel heard the Philistine's words, they were dismayed and terrified. And no wonder: if God is left out of a situation like that, what can weak man do?
Why forty days and not four? One writer walks through each day of the wait and finds God's reason for it.
I can well understand how those men felt, Saul and all of them. The giant came out that first morning and evening, saying, "Give me a man." They look round for the man, but he was not there. Then the second day, "Give me a man," again rings in their ears, and the same thing goes on for forty long days. The testing is complete, and it lays bare the weakness and total helplessness of Israel's armies. They are dismayed and deeply anxious. No deliverer appears until they truly feel how weak they are. Then is the moment for God to interfere. "For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly" (Romans 5:6).
The challenge asked for one man. One writer follows that to the man who finally came.
Israel discovered in the day of their distress that God's chosen man was the only one who could deliver them. The great Goliath threatened them. Saul and Eliab trembled before him, helpless. They had to look elsewhere for salvation. That was when David appeared. Armed with the strength of the God of Israel, he overthrew the giant and set the people free.
Goliath stands for a bigger enemy than one Philistine soldier.
He was a picture of Satan — too strong for anyone to beat except the man who acted in the power of Jehovah. And David is a picture of the Lord Jesus.
- Forty — testing. In Scripture the number marks a full time of trial. Here it measures how long Israel waited before help came.
- Twice daily — pressure. The same demand came morning and evening. Each repeat grew the giant's confidence and deepened Israel's fear.
- Silence — patience. God's delay was not indifference. He let the whole case come out before He acted.
- Weakness — the condition. No deliverer appeared until the people felt they had none. The gospel comes the same way, to people who know they are helpless.
- One man — the answer. The challenge asked for one champion, and God had already chosen him. David overthrew the giant. In the same way Christ overthrew the enemy no one else could face.
And Jesse said to David his son, Take, I pray, for thy brethren, this ephah of parched [corn] and these ten loaves, and carry them quickly to the camp to thy brethren;
Israel's army is frozen in the valley of Elah, facing a giant who has shouted the same challenge for forty days. Just then a father in Bethlehem sends his youngest son to the camp with bread and grain, and commentators read that errand as the hinge the whole battle turns on.
The order is ordinary: carry grain and bread to your brothers. Yet writers point out that this plain errand is how God brought His champion onto the field, after letting the giant boast day after day.
David, then, sent by his father on a simple errand of duty, was to be in the grace of God the instrument of His victory... What astonishing patience on God's part! Every day, of course, increased the self-confidence of the uncircumcised champion. Every day added to the dismay of Israel. There was one heart at least that knew no such unworthy fear.
Faith like this does not appear on the day of battle. It is built in private, by doing the duty in front of you.
Faith counts on the strength of God and does not count on self. So it simply does the work that comes its way, and thinks nothing of it. Here, in the path of duty, David gathers up the sense that God's strength is with him, ready for the trial to come. The secret of strength, learned like this in private, prepares him for what the Lord has for him to do later.
Commentators read Jesse's act as a picture of a greater sending. Notice how the son answered it: he was up early, and no one had to push him.
But David leaves his place. His father sends him to his brothers. And Jesus left His place of bliss on high and came to earth. He was the One sent by the Father... And notice, too, that although David's father sends him to his brothers, he went willingly. "David rose early in the morning" (v. 20). He did not hesitate or drag his feet. He was not driven; he went gladly.
Who carries a gift adds to what the gift is worth. Jesse did not send a servant.
So the relationship of Father and Son was already there before the Son took up His great errand and came as a man. In the same way, as a picture of this, Jesse was father and David was son before David appeared in the camp of Israel with his gift of food (1 Sam. 17). How much more the gift was worth, because the one who brought it from Bethlehem was not the giver's servant but his son!
Then there is the load itself. Writers compare it to what Jesus brought when He came.
Next we have therefore the refreshment David brought. His father did not send him empty-handed... Now, the good things David carried to the camp are like the earthly blessings Jesus brought to Israel. He raised the dead; He made the blind see and the deaf hear... He came loaded with grace and blessing, and right and left with a generous hand He freely gave these good things to the poor and needy.
One item in that load carries its own meaning. Writers tie the parched grain to fighting men, and to the food Israel ate on entering Canaan.
It is the food of the heavenly warriors, of those in the conflict of Ephesians 6. As a picture of this, Israel ate it before their victorious fighting in Canaan (Josh. 5:11). David carried it to the trenches for his warrior brothers, who were facing the Philistines at Elah (1 Sam. 17:17). So this event shows us that Christ gives this food to those He is not ashamed to call His brothers!
David's obedience is careful as well as quick.
In his obedience, David takes care of every interest of his father's. On leaving the sheepfold, "he left the sheep with a keeper," and when he ran to the ranks to greet his brothers, "David left the things in charge of the keeper of the baggage." He carried out his father's will with diligence and eagerness, and he was faithful with everything put into his hands.
The errand names one audience — his brothers — but the outcome will reach a whole nation.
As for David, he presents himself here (v. 17) as the one sent by his father to his brothers; his service begins with them. But God's purpose is a deliverance extending far beyond this limited circle. Joseph had done likewise (Gen. 37:14) and had become not only the savior of his brothers, but also the savior and master of Egypt.
- Sent. A father in Bethlehem sends his son to a frightened camp. Commentators read it as a picture of the Father sending the Son.
- Son, not servant. The gift gains its worth from the one carrying it; Jesse sent the son of the giver.
- Loaded. David comes with his hands full, as Christ came bringing blessing freely to the poor and needy.
- Food for fighters. The parched grain is warriors' rations — the same food Israel ate before winning in Canaan.
- Faithful in the errand. David guards the sheep, guards the baggage, and runs when he is told. Small duty is where God's victory begins.
and carry these ten cheeses to the captain of the thousand, and visit thy brethren to see how they are, and take a pledge of them.
Jesse's orders here are ordinary household business. He sends cheeses to an army officer, asks for news of his three sons at the front, and wants proof they are alive. Yet this errand carries David from the sheepfold to the battle line. Commentators ask whether the small obedience or the great victory is the real subject.
One writer reads the gift of cheeses for the commander of a thousand men as a window into Jesse's family.
Jesse seems to have had a soldier's outlook. We see it in his present of "ten cheeses" to the colonel his sons served under (1 Sam. 17:18). So minding the sheep counted as fit service for the youngest of the family. Nor was it a large flock, but being "faithful in a very little," God would entrust him with greater matters.
Nobody asks David what he thinks of the errand. His father tells him to go, and he goes. One writer looks at how he went.
There is no sign of David fretting among the sheepfolds. He does not resent being kept away from the armies of Israel. At his father's word he is content to be his messenger. He takes food to his brothers and a present to their captain, and brings back news of how his brothers are. The simplicity of David's obedience is very beautiful. His own will is nowhere in sight, and his father's will is the only reason for his mission.
Several writers see in this errand a picture of the Father sending the Son. One of them starts further back, with who the sender and the carrier already were.
So the relationship of Father and Son existed before the Son took up His great errand in incarnation. To illustrate: Jesse was father and David was son before David ever appeared in the camp of Israel with his present of food (1 Sam. 17). How much more valuable the gift became, because the one who carried it from Bethlehem was not the giver's servant but his son!
Another writer hears in Jesse's sending an echo of the Father sending His Son into the world.
This father sends his son down to see how his brothers are doing. It reminds us of that lovely verse: "And we have seen and testify that the Father has sent His Son to be the Savior of the world" (1 John 4:14). God has looked down on this scene, where the devil has overcome every man. He has sent into it, as a Savior, His own blessed Son… The father then sends the son. David comes into the camp and greets his brothers, carrying in his hand the pledge of a father's love and care.
Jesse sends David to three brothers. One writer sets this beside another son once sent to check on his brothers in the field.
As for David, he presents himself here (v. 17) as the one sent by his father to his brothers; his service begins with them. But God's purpose is a deliverance extending far beyond this limited circle. Joseph had done the same (Gen. 37:14) and had become not only the savior of his brothers, but also the savior and master of Egypt.
Not everyone reads David's arrival at the camp as a figure of Christ coming into the world. One writer takes it instead as God stepping in to help at a moment of crisis.
So David's visit to his brothers here should not be read like Joseph's, as the Lord taking flesh and coming into the world. We should take it instead as what men coldly call a providential visitation… The true David, the son of Jesse (of the living and unchanging God), did then visit His brothers with the bread of Bethlehem, the Father's house of bread.
Nothing in Jesse's instructions hints at a duel. The errand is domestic; what God does through it is not.
David's father sent him on a simple errand of duty. In the grace of God he was to be the instrument of His victory… What astonishing patience on God's part! Every day, of course, increased the self-confidence of the uncircumcised champion. Every day added to the dismay of Israel. There was one heart at least that knew no such unworthy fear; but what shame and grief!
- Sent. The errand starts with the father. He chooses the gift and the messenger.
- Son. The gift carried more weight because the giver's own son brought it, not a servant.
- Simple. David's own will drops out of sight. His father's will is the only reason he moves.
- Small. Cheeses for an officer, news of three brothers: the youngest drew the smallest task, and proved faithful in it.
- Wide. The errand covers three brothers; the rescue that follows covers a nation. Commentators differ on whether the scene pictures Christ coming into the world or a later rescue in God's providence.
Now Saul, and they, and all the men of Israel [were] in the valley of terebinths, fighting against the Philistines.
This verse is a stage direction dropped into a father's instructions to his youngest son. As the father tells David where to find his brothers, the verse pulls back to show the whole nation of Israel drawn up in one valley against the Philistines. The setting matters. Israel had no strength in this valley, and that is where God stepped in with a deliverer.
The name of the valley carries its own irony: Israel stood in a place named for strength, and had none.
Saul and the army of Israel are camped in the valley of Elah, or "the terebinth," named like the oak for its strength — if it is not the oak itself. Spiritually, the "valley" is indeed the place to find the power that shows itself in life. But it is one thing to be in the position, another to have realized the blessing of it, and this, under their failed head, the Israelites have not done. In the presence of the enemy they have no strength.
One event has made this valley famous: David killed Goliath here, in full view of both armies (Morrish Bible Dictionary).
The verse says Israel was fighting. Each day brought noise, formation and retreat.
Saul might set the army in array. The armies might go out to the place of the fight and shout for the battle (1 Sam. 17:19-21). But "the champion, the Philistine of Gath, Goliath by name, came out from the ranks of the Philistines and spoke the same words as before... All the men of Israel, when they saw the man, fled from him and were much afraid" (1 Sam. 17:23-24). This happened just as David reached the camp.
The stalemate was not an accident.
Goliath's challenge to settle the matter by single combat made the struggle in the valley of Elah very unusual. It was the very method by which one man could stand out. It was not army against army, as in ordinary cases. The question was which man in all the host of Israel would dare to stand before the terrible uncircumcised foe. It is plain that the blessed God was about to make clear again to Israel that, as a people, they were utterly powerless. Their only deliverance, as of old, was the arm of Jehovah. He was still ready to act in His wonderful character of "a man of war," whenever faith called on Him as such.
David does not arrive as a soldier. He arrives as a messenger, sent by his father with food for his brothers.
David, then, sent by his father on a simple errand of duty, was to be in the grace of God the instrument of His victory: "For forty days the Philistine came forward and took his stand, morning and evening." What astonishing patience on God's part! Every day, of course, increased the self-confidence of the uncircumcised champion. Every day added to the dismay of Israel.
Notice what is missing from the errand: any trace of David pushing for something bigger.
There is no sign of David fretting among the sheepfolds. He does not resent being away from the armies of Israel. At his father's bidding he is content to be his messenger, taking food to his brothers and a present to their captain, and bringing back news of how they were. The simplicity of David's obedience is very beautiful. His own will is completely out of sight. His father's will is the only reason for his mission.
The errand also carries a larger picture: a father sending his son into a battle where every man has failed.
This father sends his son down to see how his brothers fared. It reminds one of that lovely verse, "we have seen and testify that the Father has sent his Son to be the Savior of the world" (1 John 4:14). God has looked down on this scene, where the devil has overcome every man, and has sent into it, as a Saviour, His own blessed Son.
The timing of David's arrival is part of the lesson. God let the crisis run its full course first.
Those forty days perfectly test the armies of Israel and show their weakness and utter incompetence. They are dismayed and deeply anxious. No deliverer appears until they have a true and deep sense of their feebleness. Then is the moment for God to step in. "For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly" (Rom. 5:6). Yes, it is just then that the gospel comes out.
- The place. The valley's name meant strength. Under a failed king, Israel had none in front of the enemy.
- The paralysis. They lined up and shouted for battle, then fled when the champion appeared. God was showing them that their only deliverance was His own arm.
- The errand. David came on a simple errand of duty from his father, and grace made that errand the door to God's victory.
- The obedience. His own will was out of sight; his father's will was the entire reason for the journey.
- The timing. No deliverer came until Israel felt its weakness. Christ came the same way: He died for the ungodly while we were still weak.
And David rose up early in the morning, and left the sheep with a keeper, and took his charge and went, as Jesse had commanded him. And he came to the wagon-defence; and the host which was going forth to the battle-array shouted for the fight.
The Goliath story begins with an errand, not a sling: David carries food to his brothers because his father told him to. The verse reads like a travel note. Yet commentators find in it the shape of the man God had chosen — and of Someone greater.
David did not resent the errand. His father's word was reason enough to go.
There is no sign of David fretting among the sheepfolds, or resenting being away from the armies of Israel. At his father's bidding he is content to be his messenger. He takes food to his brothers and a present to their captain, and brings back news of how they were doing. The simplicity of David's obedience is very beautiful: his own will is entirely lost sight of, and his father's will is the only reason for his mission.
David had already been anointed. That did not make him restless.
Like Christ, David is here a true servant. He rises up early in the morning (v. 20) and takes his charge, so as to do his father's will. Already anointed, he is the Spirit's man for this service, while at the same time keeping his character of humility in the pastures of the sheep.
The detail about the keeper is easy to skip past. One writer reads it as a habit of mind: David did not drop one duty to take up another.
In his obedience, David is careful to look after every interest of his father's, for on leaving the sheepfold "he left the sheep with a keeper." And when he ran into the army to greet his brothers, "David left the things in charge of the keeper of the baggage." Diligence and eagerness marked him in carrying out his father's will. He was also faithful with everything put into his hands, whether the sheep or his father's goods. Does this not remind us of Him who said, "And this is the will of Him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that He has given me, but raise it up on the last day" (John 6:39)?
Jesse sent David; but the early start says something the command did not require.
David leaves his place, and Jesus left His place of bliss on high and came to earth. He was the sent One of the Father. "For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son." … And notice too that though David's father sends him to his brothers, he went willingly. "David rose early in the morning" (v. 20). He did not hesitate or set out with dragging feet. He was not driven; he went gladly. And Jesus, though sent by God, came willingly.
The army David walked into was shouting. One writer sets it beside an earlier shout, when the ark arrived in Israel's camp.
There were great shouts in the camp when the ark arrived. It was the same at a later time. Israel was again in conflict with the Philistines, and when David came in, "they shouted for the battle" (1 Sam. 17:20). But neither shout was "the sound of shouting for victory," nor was "the shout of a king" among them. It was the expression of a vain and fatal confidence. It was much easier to shout than to fight. In the same way, it is easier today to catch fire at big meetings, stirring talks and exciting music than to live in real devotion to God.
(Older translations read "shouted for the battle"; the ESV has "shouting the war cry.")
The shouting collapsed as David arrived. It exposed the one man who was not afraid.
Saul might set the army in array, but there came up the champion, Goliath of Gath, out of the armies of the Philistines… This happened just as David reached the camp. Their loud shout for the battle was soon over, and all the people were in complete panic. But David was calm and undismayed through it all.
The years with the flock were not wasted. They were the training for that day.
When his presence was no longer needed at Saul's court, he returned to his original work of keeping his father's sheep in the wilderness (1 Sam. 17:15). He knew his place, and kept it. In that place he learned about God in a way others had not, and that lesson fitted him for future usefulness. … Who would say he had wasted his energies in the sheepfold, when as a shepherd he experienced the deliverance of God? Now the time had come, and the occasion arose, for which God had been training His servant in the wilderness.
- Sent. David goes because his father said go; his own will is out of sight, and the command alone is his reason.
- Willing. He was not driven. Rising early shows he went gladly, as Christ came willingly when the Father sent Him.
- Faithful. He leaves the sheep with one keeper and the baggage with another. He drops nothing along the way.
- Prepared. The wilderness years were the training, not the delay — he learned God there in a way others had not.
- Contrast. He arrives to an army shouting for a fight it will not take; the shouting stops, and the quiet shepherd is the only calm man there.