1 Samuel 17:17–30

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 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.

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.

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!

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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, 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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)?

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.

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.

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.

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.

Goliath's challenge to settle the matter by single combat made the struggle in the valley of Elah very unusual. It was exactly the way in which one individual might be singled out. It was not army against army, as in ordinary cases. The question was who, in all the host of Israel, would dare to stand before the terrible uncircumcised enemy. In fact, it is plain that God was about to show Israel again that, as a people, they were completely powerless. Their only deliverance, as in earlier days, was the arm of the Lord, who was still ready to act in His wonderful character of "a man of war," whenever faith called on Him as such.

Saul might set the army in array; the hosts might go out to the place of fighting and shout for the battle (vv. 19–21); but the champion came up out of the armies of the Philistines 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. This happened just as David reached the camp. David heard the proud defiance of Goliath, and he saw the dismay and dishonour of Israel. Their loud shout for the battle was soon over, and all the people were in complete consternation.

There were great shouts in the camp when the ark arrived. Israel shouted again later, when they were in conflict with the Philistines and David came in (1 Sam. 17:20). In neither case was it "the voice of those who shout for victory," nor "the shout of a king" among them. It was the expression of a vain and fatal confidence. In both cases there was more shouting than real or effective fighting. It was much easier to shout than to fight. Today it is easier to grow excited under the influence of big meetings and stirring talks with exciting music than it is to live a life devoted to God.

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. There was one heart at least that knew no such unworthy fear; but what shame and grief!

No one could see any reason in David why he should step forward to meet the Philistine, when no one else dared to do so. Men judge by "the outward appearance," and they could see no power in him — quite the opposite. Human nature sees power in "the host," in numbers, in armour, or in the mighty Goliath. It never sees power in the young man just come from his "few sheep in the wilderness!"

The conflict lay between the champions of Israel and Philistia, David and Goliath. The two armies stood on either side of the valley in battle array. Yet the battle lay wholly between the two men who represented them.

"And the men of Israel and of Judah arose and shouted." Every doubt and fear vanished at the return of their victorious representative. His victory was their victory. They were as clear and as free from the Philistine oppressor as he was.

This word never seems to be used in the Bible in the modern sense of the word. It means "the thing carried," or "baggage." Judges 18:21; 1 Sam. 17:22; Isa. 10:28; Acts 21:15.

In his obedience, David is careful to look after every interest of his father's. On leaving the sheepfold, "he left the sheep with a keeper." When he ran into the army to greet his brothers, "David left his carriage in the hand of the keeper." Diligence and eagerness marked him in carrying out his father's will, and so did faithfulness about everything put into his hands, whether the sheep or his father's goods. Doesn't this remind us of Him who said, "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)?

The simplicity of David's obedience is very beautiful. He completely loses sight of his own will, and his father's will is the only reason for his mission.

This father sending his son down to see how his brothers fared reminds one 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 upon this scene, where the devil has overcome every man. He has sent into it, as a Saviour, His own blessed Son... The father then sends the son. David takes in his hand the pledge of a father's love and care, comes into the camp, and greets 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.

Simplicity of faith keeps him in the place of duty. He is content there, with no desire to leave it, because the approval of God satisfies him. As a result he can there count upon the help of God, as thoroughly secured to him; he acts in the strength of God.

He runs into the army, comes, greets his brothers, and talks with them. As he talks, the stranger from Gath — Goliath by name — comes forth and utters his defiance, and David hears.

But David was not dismayed. He saw the giant's challenge as aimed not at Saul and his armies, but at the armies of the living God. Bringing God in between the enemy and His people made all the difference.

What a fearful enemy Israel had in Goliath! Morning and evening he defied their armies. No one answered him, for they were dismayed and terrified... This happened just as David reached the camp. David heard the proud defiance of Goliath, and he saw the dismay and dishonour of Israel. Their loud shout for battle was soon over, and all the people were in complete panic. But David was calm and undismayed through it all.

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!

I take Goliath here to be a kind of picture of Satan holding "the power of death." A massive sword is in his hands. With it he terrifies the Israelites. They were terrified, yet as a nation they were the Lord's people. Outwardly they were near to Him and in relationship with Him. Now, Hebrews 2:14-15 tells us that before the cross Satan had "the power of death." It says God's saints, "through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery." That passage throws a flood of light on this chapter. Unconverted men, and even unsettled Christians, are afraid to die... "The sting of death is sin" (1 Corinthians 15:56). Conscience accuses. Men fear to die because they know that they are sinners, and that God must punish sin.

Sure of his strength, he presents himself before the assembled people and challenges them. Once he has struck terror into those he wants to conquer, 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.

He trains in secret those whom He is about to use in public. He lets His servants come to know Him in the solemn quiet of His sanctuary. He makes His greatness pass before them, so that they can face the difficulties of their path with a steady gaze... Goliath's forty days of proud boasting had fully proved the emptiness of man. Saul could do nothing. Jesse's three eldest sons could do nothing. Even Jonathan could do nothing. All was lost, or seemed to be, when the young David entered the scene. He came clothed in the strength of Him who was about to lay the pomp and glory of the proud Philistine in the dust.

This father sends his son down to see how his brothers are doing. That reminds us of a 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. Into it He has sent His own blessed Son as a Savior... God instructed Samuel, and Samuel anointed David as king over Israel. But his people did not know their anointed king. Israel's deliverer did not come on the scene until this moment. All Israel was then in desperate straits because of the power set against them.

Morning and evening he defied their armies, and no one answered his defiance, for they were dismayed and much afraid. Saul might set the army in order. The army might go out to the place of the fight and shout for the battle. But the champion came up out of the armies of the Philistines and spoke the same words as before. This happened just as David reached the camp. David heard the proud defiance of Goliath, and he saw the dismay and dishonour of Israel. 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 king of Israel, and all the mighty men of Saul's forces, were unable to meet the giant in his impressive armour. They measured the power of the champion of the Philistines against their own strength. They felt themselves to be powerless, and so were much afraid.

What unbelief does is to compare ourselves and our own strength with circumstances. What faith does is to compare God with circumstances... How did David reason? He did not go and reason about the height of Goliath and about his own smallness of stature; he brought God in.

I take Goliath here to stand for Satan, holding "the power of death." He has a massive sword in his hands, and with it he terrifies the Israelites. They were terrified, yet they were the Lord's people as a nation. They stood in outward nearness and relationship to Him. Now, Hebrews 2:14-15 tells us that Satan, before the cross, had "the power of death." It says God's saints "through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery." That passage throws a flood of light upon this chapter. Unconverted men and even unsettled Christians fear to die. Now, why is this? One verse from the New Testament supplies the answer. "The sting of death is sin." Conscience accuses.

No victory, no spoil for Israel so long as Goliath could defy them; they were no match for him. Presumption would have led them to utter defeat. Their sense of powerlessness opened the way for God to step in, for He was the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel. The cause was God's and therefore the power must be of God.

And now, my dear friend, do you have the sense that you cannot meet Satan? He has overcome every man but One, the Man who, in lowly grace, had come uncalled and unwanted into this scene. Jesus met him in the wilderness first of all. He refused his temptations and overcame him. Then He met him in the garden of Gethsemane, and again was the victor. Then on the cross He bore Satan's attack and conquered. He went by the pathway of death right down into his stronghold, so 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."

As they were talking together Goliath appeared, voicing his daily challenge against any man of Israel who would fight with him. This only made the men of Israel recoil in fear. Their words in verse 25 express this fear, but are an answer to David's question recorded in verse 26. David shows no fear of the giant in his questioning, for he asks, "Who is this uncircumcised Philistine, that he should defy the armies of the living God?" His formidable size makes no difference to David: when he defies God's armies, it is God whom he is defying.

Saul had openly offered any man who would meet the giant and kill him three things: freedom for his father's house in Israel, the king's daughter as his wife, and great riches. The people David spoke to in the camp knew these offers well. Yet the offers failed to stir one single man to volunteer for such dangerous work. And no wonder. What are promises of passing favours and earthly pleasures to a man who thinks he must face certain death to earn the right to them? Such things shrink to nothing before the power of the enemy, with death standing in front of him.

The reward promised to the man who killed the Philistine had three parts — great riches, freedom for his father's house, and a bride. David killed the giant, so he had a right to this great reward. And Jesus at Calvary triumphed over sin and death and Satan, and must be rewarded for His victory.

David is told that the man who would fight and kill Goliath would be greatly enriched by the king, given the king's daughter as wife, and have his father's house made free in Israel. Perhaps this third reward was the reason Saul later asked whose son David was.

Next there was freedom for the conqueror's father's house. From then on it was to be a house held in special honour. They may stand for the elect of God. All who come to Christ are given to Him by the Father... By nature and by practice they were slaves of Satan and of sin, but they have been set free. Christ died so that they might be free. By His glorious victory over death He won freedom for every member of His "Father's house."

David asks what will be done for the man who kills the Philistine and takes away the reproach from Israel. He learns that the king will make that man rich with great riches, give him his daughter, and set his father's house free. But he does not enter the fight to win this reward. He fights for God, for Israel's rescue, to make the Lord known in all the earth... No doubt his victory does give him, like Christ, great riches, a bride, and freedom for his father's house. But this is the result of his work, not its purpose.

The honours and riches promised to the man who killed Goliath were not what moved him. After the victory we do not find him claiming them, flattering and splendid as they were — the very prizes a man seeking his own glory would have wanted. Instead we hear him say, "Who am I, and what is my life, or my father's family in Israel, that I should be son-in-law to the king?"

He does not speak of Goliath as a giant, but as an "uncircumcised Philistine" — a man with no link to God, and in fact an enemy of God and His people. He also sees Israel in their true dignity as "the armies of the living God," a people God had set apart to act for Him with power He gave them.

Men reported Goliath's words to David, and in them he at once recognised a blasphemous defiance of the living God. "Who is this uncircumcised Philistine," he said, "that he should defy the armies of the living God?" In the trembling crowd in front of him, David's faith recognised the army of the living God. He made it at once a question between the Lord and the Philistine.

The people, to whom David spoke in the camp, knew these offers well, yet they failed to nerve one single man to volunteer for such dangerous service. And no wonder. For what are promises of temporary favours and earthly enjoyments to a man who has to face what he thinks is certain death to earn them? But David looked at the matter in another light.

No change of circumstances can ever rob the people of God of their dignity in the eye of faith. In the eyes of man they may be brought low, as Israel was on this occasion. But faith always recognises what God has given. So David, as he watched his poor brothers fainting before their terrible enemy, could still acknowledge those with whom the living God had identified Himself. No uncircumcised Philistine, then, ought to defy them.

In the simple path of duty with the God of Israel, when no eye was on him, he had learnt that God is faithful. So now, when he comes and sees the people of God with Goliath against them, he is astonished to find them all afraid... His business as a shepherd was to guard the sheep. If the lion came, he took it by the beard and killed it, and he killed the bear the same way. He did it without display and without boast. These were simply matters of duty, and he leaves them untold until there is a real need to mention them.

Suppose the giant was as strong as he looked, and his armour could stop any human weapon. What was he really? A man who had defied the armies of the living God. So he must fall. The power of death could not overcome the living God... The living God was for David not a formula, an abstraction, a theological expression. He was a reality.

He learns that the king will enrich him with great riches, will give him his daughter, and make his father's house free. But he does not enter the fight to get this reward. He fights for God, for Israel's deliverance, to make the Lord known in all the earth, and so that all the people should know how the Lord saves. His victory does give him, like Christ, great riches, a bride, and the freeing of his father's house. But that is the result of his work rather than its purpose.

Saul had openly offered a reward to any man who would meet the giant and kill him: freedom for his father's house in Israel, the king's daughter as his wife, and great riches. The people David spoke to in the camp knew all about these offers, yet they failed to stir one single man to volunteer for such dangerous service. And no wonder. Such promises offer favours and pleasures in this life. What are they worth to a man who must face what he thinks is certain death to earn them?

David could hardly take it in. He is amazed that anyone would offer such a reward for what seemed to him such a simple business… David did not measure himself against Goliath. He saw that this was a question between God and the Philistine. That is what filled him with astonishment as he watched the utter terror of the men of Israel. He talked with them and heard it all over again. He needed to be sure they were serious in saying such things.

David asks what will be done for the man who kills the Philistine and takes away the reproach from Israel (v. 26)… But he does not enter the campaign to get this reward. He fights for God, for Israel's deliverance, to make the Lord known in all the earth, and so that the whole assembly should know how the Lord saves (vv. 46-47). His victory does give him, like Christ, great riches, a bride, and freedom for his father's house. But that is the result of his work, not its purpose.

The reward promised to the man who killed the Philistine had three parts: great riches, freedom for his father's house, and a bride. And David killed the giant, so he was entitled to this great reward. And Jesus at Calvary triumphed over sin and death and Satan, and must be rewarded for His victory.

There is a mighty prince who by birth has come into vast treasures and estates. These are his by natural inheritance; they are his because of who he is. But he goes out as a warrior. He conquers everywhere, and wins extra wealth and glory such as he would never have had if he had stayed at home. What he has done wins him these. Now he has a twofold glory — one essential, the other gained. And so it is with Jesus. As the eternal Son of the Father, He has a glory all His own. It is His essential Godhead glory, in which no creature can share. But as Man in this world He has won honours, glories and riches such as He can and does share with His own redeemed and loved ones.

The more you examine this, the closer the application becomes. Was not the answer in those days too much the assurance of what the king would do for Israel's deliverer?… The Davids were the champions of the truth whom God raised up. They went down alone into the valley. The Sauls — yes, and Israel too — crouched in their shelters and watched the victory being won for them.

Bringing God in made David bold, but it made Eliab angry. Eliab, like Saul and all Israel, was afraid of Goliath. David's confidence in God exposed how little confidence in God everyone who feared the giant had. This was the real cause of Eliab's opposition.

But the language of faith instantly stirs up the flesh. So it was with Joseph, when he told his brothers his dreams. So it is here with David and his brothers. We see this in Eliab's words: "I know your pride, and the naughtiness of your heart." Eliab sees such a power in David. When the flesh sees a power greater than its own, all it can do is call that power pride. Now Eliab was the eldest brother, and he stands here in the prominence the flesh always loves and seeks. He was a man of striking looks, but God had refused him. The Lord's anointed was not the man people admired… David was speaking the language of faith. The living God, the Lord God of the armies of Israel, filled his sight. He measured the Philistines and their champion by Him. Eliab had no such standard. He spoke and felt as a man. So the language of faith sounded to him like "pride and naughtiness of heart."

David could have answered the first question, "Why have you come down here?" with the words, "To do my father's will." As for the sheep, they were well cared for by the keeper. The pride was not in David's heart, but in Eliab's. It was wounded when his weakness came to light. His envy of his brother's confidence in God made his anger explode. There was no naughtiness in David's heart; the evil was in Eliab's, and it came out in his false accusations. Nor was there a battle for David to watch. There were only the men of Israel shrinking in fear from one who defied the armies of the living God.

His elder brother overheard, and his anger was kindled against David… People who think much of themselves are always ready to take offence at others. Even the closest relationship will not prevent this. Instead it gives opportunities for it… In fact David was there for much more than watching the battle. He had come down to fight it — but Eliab did not know this.

David was carried forward by an energy quite unknown to Eliab, and he was not concerned to defend his course to his proud brother. Why had Eliab not acted himself in defence of his brothers? Why had Abinadab or Shammah not acted? Because they had no faith; that is the whole answer.

He is suspected and misunderstood. He was not wanted there. They were glad to get his loaves and cheeses. I am sure of that. They cared for them, but not for David. And when Jesus came, men took His temporal blessings. They were glad to get the "loaves and fishes." They were willing to have their sick healed and their dead raised. But they did not want Himself. "He came to His own, and His own people did not receive Him."

His brother Eliab charged him in public with pride and naughtiness of heart as his motives for coming to the camp. That scorn stirred no resentment. He simply said, "What have I done now? Was it not but a word?" and turned away. Such calmness of spirit, when insulted without cause, was far from natural to him. He was a man with passions like ours. We see this when Nabal provoked him. His fiery temperament showed itself at once.

He comes into the camp, where his brothers accuse his confidence in God and his faith of being pride and naughtiness of heart (v. 28). We too can always expect the same treatment ourselves when we follow the simple path of faith. Our relatives can no more understand our motives than the Lord's brothers could understand His.

David answers Eliab: "What have I now done? Was it not laid upon me?" (v. 29). What had he done to deserve being insulted? Did he not have a reason for going down to his brothers, when the God of Israel was daily being insulted by the enemy?

He showed humility and a conscious sense of his father's will and the need of others, and that while facing the cruel and angry reproach of his brothers. "What have I now done? Is there not a cause?" (or, "was it not laid upon me"), vv. 28, 29 — this refers to his father's will (v. 17). He could discern not merely the desperate position of the people, but how the situation affected God: "this uncircumcised Philistine … has defied the armies of the living God." The word "defied" or "reproach" carries the double thought of blaspheming and placing in jeopardy.

The pride was not in David's heart, but in Eliab's. The display of his own weakness had wounded that pride. He envied his brother's confidence in God, and that envy caused the explosion of his anger. There was no wickedness in David's heart; the evil was in Eliab's and was exposed in his false accusations. Nor was there a battle for David to watch. There was only the cowardly shrinking of the men of Israel from one who defied the armies of the living God.

And the flesh always mistakes faith this way. The flesh angrily replies to us, "It is pride," as often as we speak of confidence in the living God. That very confidence, which is the deepest humility, is always condemned by the flesh as pride. For no humility goes deeper than setting self aside so that the living God may come in. David, in the whole of this action, loses sight of himself, seeing only God and the armies of God.

He does not resent his elder brother's accusation. He knows his own motives are honest, so he leaves his character and himself in the hands of God, to be shown for what they are in God's good time.

It was possibly the feeling of the truly meek David, on turning away from the reproach of Eliab. (1 Sam. 17:28-29) But it could have been used happily afterwards by ransomed Israel, who were then free and confident in the salvation of God. And this assured "hope in the Lord" is always, when real and spiritual, combined with the quietness and subjection of a weaned child.

It was not that David measured himself against Goliath. He saw it to be a question between God and the Philistine. This was what filled him with astonishment, as he watched the abject terror of the men of Israel. … Indeed he was there for much more: he had come down to fight the battle. But Eliab did not know this, any more than he knew the lowly faith of David's heart.

"David said, What have I done? Is there not a cause?" Had David gloried in himself? No, indeed. And was there not a cause for his speaking as he did? If ever the name of the living God is brought into question, there is always a cause. We are left here in the world for this very purpose: to confess the name of Jesus before men, and to set aside our own name.

I think David's answer to Eliab here is beautiful. "What have I now done? Is there not a cause?" (1 Sam. 17:29). Friend, listen! From the glory tonight the Saviour says to you, "Is there not a cause?" Indeed there is, for if Christ does not intervene there is no salvation for anyone. The cause was clear; the foe was too strong for us.

An energy quite unknown to Eliab carried David onward, and he was not concerned to defend his course to his haughty brother. Why had Eliab not acted himself in defence of his brothers? Why had Abinadab or Shammah not acted? Because they were faithless; simply that. Those three men had remained powerless. So had the whole congregation, terror-stricken in the presence of the enemy. Now one man appeared among them whom God was about to use in a marvellous way, and not one could understand him.

David, however, uses a soft answer. He had come because his father had sent him: was there anything offensive in what he had done or said? In the same way the Lord Jesus did not answer angrily when Israel, His brothers according to the flesh, treated Him with unjust contempt. Yet He did not give up doing what God had sent Him to do. We must not be intimidated by relatives or friends, any more than by enemies.

Goliath called his opponents the servants of Saul. The people, speaking to David, said Goliath had come to defy Israel. David, however, remembered who Israel really were — the armies of the living God. That is how he answered them, and he spoke to Saul the same way. He sought to rally all Israel, so that they should no longer be afraid. Could the armies of the living God be overthrown?

It was not that David measured himself against Goliath, but that he saw the matter to be a question between God and the Philistine. This is what filled him with astonishment as he watched the men of Israel in their abject terror. He talked to them and heard it all again and again, for he needed to be sure they were serious in making such statements.

God blessed and strengthened David for the service he gave Israel that day. Grace also kept him in a spirit that was altogether excellent. He does not resent his elder brother's accusation. He knows his own motives are honest, so he leaves his character and himself in God's hands, for God to make them clear in His own good time.

While He was on earth, the Lord Jesus had to meet the same spirit of opposition, but when He was reviled, He did not revile in return. How often was He misjudged and falsely accused! The very nation He had come to save did not receive Him, yet His confidence in His God and Father was unshaken while surrounded by all the evil.

And so one man walked in quiet and simple confidence in the Lord, and that fact gradually forced itself on the host of Israel. News then came to the king about that one soul whose heart of faith the Philistine could not shake.

He comes into the camp, where his brothers accuse his confidence in God and his faith of being pride and wickedness of heart. We too can always expect the same treatment in following the simple path of faith. Our relatives can no more understand our motives than the Lord's brothers could understand His.