Jeremy Duncan: There's something about the way that art, the way that music connects us and calms us, roots us in truth we struggle to articulate with words that accomplishes things our theology falls very far short of. Paying attention to beauty that baffles us is perhaps spiritual medicine. Today, we are continuing our series called Becoming King. And the focus of this series is following along with the story of King David. In the spring we looked together at the era of the Judges.
At the end of that series we met the first king of Israel, a man named Saul. But last week, as we picked up the story again for a new year, we introduced ourselves to the most famous king of Israel, a king in waiting, a king who has, at this point of the story, still a boy named David. And yet, as we met that new king, the one chosen after God's wishes, we find that he is overlooked and forgotten, left tending to the sheep, while his brothers are given the chance to impress God's prophet. And I think that right there is really probably the main takeaway from David's introduction in first Samuel 16 last week. God is not looking for what you and I are looking for.
In fact, I love that this famous line is actually delivered in the first person in Samuel. God says, I don't see what you see. I look to the center of things. But there is even one more subtle piece here, one that I didn't have time to talk about last week, but one that nonetheless I think is quite fascinating about David's introduction. If you remember, when Samuel comes to town, he tells the town folk to consecrate themselves and join him for a sacrifice.
He then meets Jesse, and he consecrates him and his sons and invites them to the sacrifice as well. But then at the sacrifice, we meet Eliab, his tall, handsome older brother. We meet Abinadab. We meet Shema. And in all, seven of Jesse's sons are offered to Samuel before he realizes that God's chosen is not here among them.
And so Samuel asks Jesse, hey, are you sure these are all the kids you got? And dad says, well, I guess there is David, but he's just a kid tending to the sheep in the field. And obviously this is a setup. Right? It's about the fact that God can see potential where we struggle to see it in each other.
Options and hope where we see dead ends. Seven sons have stood before Samuel at this point. And that's sort of a code in Hebrew. Seven is a symbol for completion. So seven sons indicates the story is over.
There's nothing left to explore here. And yet, there's still David in the field. But notice this, everyone here at the sacrifice has been consecrated. Jesse's been consecrated. Seven of his sons, all of the ones that Samuel knows about have been consecrated.
Everyone here except David. Now, what does that mean exactly? Well, it's actually a little nebulous. The basic idea is that they have been set apart and prepared to stand before God. Exodus 19 says that to be consecrated, one should go and wash their clothes and quote, be ready.
Whatever that means. But in other circumstances, it seems to be as simple as the priest blessing the people before the sacrifice begins. What I want to pay attention to here, looking back on last week, is that God says, I look to the center of things. And that means God looks past heights and appearance as a measure of leadership mandate. And we say, well, yeah.
Sure. Of course. I mean, that was always pretty superficial. And God looks past age and experience as a limit on leadership potential. And we say, well, yeah.
Okay. I guess that makes sense too. But then God looks past our religious technicalities as well. And I think sometimes we get a little more uptight about that one. David is young, and small, and forgotten.
Okay. But he's also unconsecrated. And it seems to me that God is trying to upend more of our prerequisites than perhaps we recognize on first reading. God is not looking for what we are looking for. And for that reason alone, David is probably more important than we realize.
Today, we get to see him in action. But first, let's pray. God of the unexpected, both in the ways that you overturn our expectations of you, but also in the ways that you champion and elevate the forgotten and ignored among us. Might we recognize this not just as a quirk of ancient storytelling, but as a fundamentally divine characteristic that you are present with us in every moment, in every circumstance, maybe particularly where we least expect you to be. Remind us today of your gentle spirit in and around us even now, guiding and shaping and leading in each step we take, if only we are willing to listen.
And then, may that same unexpected presence, that awareness that you are near, help us to look and see with new fresh eyes all of the possibilities that surround us, but also all the potential embedded in each person we encounter this week. Might that hopeful view guide us into tomorrow in the strong name of the risen Christ we pray. Amen. Last week, we introduced David. Young and small and forgotten and unconsecrated.
Today, we actually get to meet him. And we'll cover underdogs, hallelujahs, mano a mano, and bears before giants. But first, let's talk about this. We are going to get to Goliath today. Possibly, probably, actually, the most famous story in the entire pantheon of David's tales.
Jeremy Duncan: In fact, I would argue
Jeremy Duncan: that this is why David is the enduring character he is today. King David, the violent, womanizing, family terrorizing poet with a heart of gold, is not nearly as endearing as a character without this underdog opening act. And I think we should pay attention to that. Not only for what it tells us about David's story, but equally, I think, what it tells us about us. We love an underdog.
We cheer for Maximus Decimus Meridius because he faces unwinnable odds. We want, even for a second, to feel like the Avengers might lose. Some of us here even continue to have a very small soft spot for the Toronto Maple Leafs because we know precisely they're never going to win another Stanley Cup, and that's okay. So of course, we want a cheer for David. Like, I guarantee, if Goliath had just walked out and squashed him, no one would even remember the big dude.
That's just not a fun story. When the giant wins, it doesn't help us feel like we're the hero of the story. And that is incredibly powerful, but it's also something we have to be careful with. Often, once we've decided that we're on the side of a particular character, they're an outsider, they're an underdog, it's very hard for us to then step back and objectively evaluate that character's flaws. And leaders, politicians, kings, even biblical writers, all of them use this to their advantage incredibly effectively.
And so, as much as I too love an underdog story, and if the Leafs ever make a serious run, I will be there cheering knowing full well it will end in sadness. I don't want to so tightly tie my identity into King David, or any leader for that matter, that I can't separate myself enough to make honest critical assessments about them. We're going to fall in love with parts of David's story. That's okay. Let's just keep our wits about us as the story unfolds.
Let's not tie our identity too tightly to any leader's rise or inevitable fall. That's it. Last week, we left off with David chosen by Samuel. And from there, the story shifts back to Saul. This is what we read.
So Samuel took the horn of oil and anointed David in the presence of his brothers. And from that day on, the spirit of the Lord came powerfully upon David. And Samuel then went on to Ramah. The language here is actually something like the spirit or the ruach of Yahweh rushed toward David. Because next verse, now the spirit of the Lord had departed from Saul, and an evil spirit from the Lord came and tormented him.
And there's a couple of things we gotta talk about here. Right? Like, first, this is sort of a localized imagination of God's spirit. The framing here is that God's spirit was with Saul in the capital. It leaves him, and it rushes over to be with David in Bethlehem, which is then connected to the second thing we're gonna have to talk about here, this evil spirit that arrives to torment Saul.
And right from the start, we have to acknowledge that this is sort of an earlier, more primitive conceptualization of the spirit of God. Later Christians will talk about the Holy Spirit. Part of the triune God along with father and son, this mysterious and yet incredibly central part of Christian faith. This idea that God is somehow within God's self divine loving community. That God has always been in relationship because God has always been relationship.
That community and connection did not enter into existence with the universe. No. Somehow it is loving relationship that actually sits at the founding of the universe. What we see here in first Samuel is not that. This is not Trinity.
At least not in any kind of developed sense. The spirit here, Ruach, is the Hebrew word, can be read as the breath of God, or the presence of God, or even the power of God in some sense. So this is not necessarily God's self or the Holy Spirit in Christian parlance. Instead, this is a Hebrew expression of God's favor and blessing on David. And that helps us a little bit with the next line, this evil spirit from the Lord.
I mean, do we really think God is sending evil spirits out there? Do we even imagine that God has evil spirits at God's command? Well, the same way that the spirit of the Lord is an expression of God's favor, this evil spirit, or as David Sumura translates, the spirit which brings forth disaster, shouldn't necessarily be read as some other secondary evil phantom that God sends to Saul. As much as the consequence or the vacuum created when God withdraws God's blessing from Saul. Even though we're tormented here, it sounds very active, but the idea is that Saul has been gripped with fear.
And I think I recognize that experience at some level. In those times that I know I have stepped away from what is right, and I've hurt someone, or I've done wrong by someone. I think I have been gripped by something like fear that either moves you back with repentance or, honestly, sometimes if I let it, pushes me farther down the road I don't want to go. I think that kind of torment, perhaps anguish for where we've chosen poorly, and the consequence of facing up to it. I think if recognized properly can actually become our salvation.
So it's not necessarily God turning on Saul here. This can even be read as God attempting to turn Saul back here. But it's this anguish, this torment that provides the plot device to get David close to Saul. See, Saul's advisors recognize how stressed he is, and they're like, maybe some nice calming music could help. And so he instructs them to go out and find him someone who can play the liar like no other.
And one of his advisors pipes up. He's like, I think I know a kid. And this is, of course, the song Hallelujah. Right? I heard there was a secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord, but you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth, the minor falls and the major lifts, the baffled king composing Hallelujah. And undoubtedly, one of the greatest songs ever written, by the way, if you're interested. This song has a pretty fascinating history. Written by a Canadian, Leonard Cohen. People have famously debated the meaning of these lyrics for years to make it fun or difficult.
Cohen actually wrote more than 80 verses to this song. He sang and performed different verses at different times all throughout his career. Jeff Buckley performed the undisputed best version of the song ever, although very closely followed by Katie Lang. Hers is excellent. But people often assume this opening verse, the most famous one I just read, is about King David composing the Psalms.
I actually think it's about this moment right here with Saul. There's a secret chord that pleases the king, but he doesn't really care about music or worship. He doesn't understand the beauty or the power of it. Yet somehow the music evokes a confused hallelujah from him anyway. I'll admit, I think that happens to me a lot as well.
I'm not sure I always get worship. And yet still, I will find myself here on a Sunday gathered in a room listening to incredible musicians, surrounded by people like me who are wrestling to live lives we know are good. And the best I can offer in that moment is a baffled hallelujah. There's something about the way that art, the way that music connects us and calms us, roots us in truth we struggle to articulate with words that accomplishes things our theology falls very far short of. Paying attention to beauty that baffles us is perhaps spiritual medicine.
But David is now in the employ of the king. And so this is how the next chapter begins. We read that the Philistines gathered their forces for war and assembled at Socah and Judah. They pitched their camp at Ephes Dam in between Socah and Azekah. And if you recall, back to our series, the last of them, the first thing that Saul did once in power was decide he needed a war, an enemy.
And he stoked up hostilities with the neighboring Philistines. Well, things have not gone well since. And so Saul and the Israelites assembled and camped in the Valley Of Elah and drew up their battle line to meet the Philistines. And the Philistines occupied one hill and the Israelites another with the valley between them. And a champion named Goliath, who was from Gath, came out from the Philistine camp.
His height was six cubits and a span.
Jeremy Duncan: Now, let's let's pause here
Jeremy Duncan: for a moment because I think we all have some cultural memory of Goliath. Right? Because of that, it's gonna make it hard to read this story objectively. Probably all know Goliath was a giant. We likely know that David comes to fight with a sling and a few smooth stones.
We certainly know he takes out the giant with one shot, walks over, cuts off his head, and drags it back to camp with him. Actually, we probably don't know that last part. We tend to leave that out of the story when we tell it to our kids. A little too violent, but let's talk about big G for a moment here. We're told he was a champion.
Six cubits and a span tall. In In fact, if we keep reading, his stature only grows. He has a bronze helmet. He wears a coat of scale armor weighing 5,000 shekels. On his legs, he wore bronze greaves.
He has a javelin slung on his back. His spear is like a weaver's rod, and its iron point alone weighs 600 shekels. Bottom line, dude is jacked. But what exactly are we reading here? Well, our best guess is that six cubits in a span would measure out to about nine foot nine today.
And that is certainly getting into mythical territory. Andre the Giant topped out at seven foot four for comparison. However, in the Septuagint, which is actually the oldest copy of this story that we have, in the version that would have been circulating around the time of Jesus, there Goliath is described as four cubits in the span. That would put him at six foot nine inches tall. Now keep in mind, ancient peoples, generally not as tall as we are today.
So Victor Wembania at seven foot three and a half inches certainly would have been even more of a marvel to them than he is to us. That means four cubits in a span, six foot nine is not a small number. This would have been, for all intents and purposes, almost unbelievable to anyone reading first Samuel. However, regardless of which figure we land on, what this little text critical variation does for us is contextualize the story. People at the time of Jesus were not reading this as a mythical tale.
They did not see Goliath as some non human entity, some kind of secondary species of giant. They understood him as a very big, almost impossibly imposing man. And that's consistent with the way the story reads. A few years ago, we looked at the story of Jonah, a story I would argue is very intentionally, mythically coded. There's all kinds of signals in the text of Jonah telling you, look, don't read this literally.
It's a comedy. Step back. Take it seriously and understand the lesson. Here, Goliath is certainly a stylized story. It is part of the way that the character of David is being built up and immortalized, but it wasn't being read as a fable.
It may have been exaggerated. Sure. But it was understood as part of the story of a real person expressing real bravery in the real world. And that's important. We need stories about heroes who fight dragons.
We also need stories about heroes who stand up to the impossibilities of real life as well. And what happens? Well, Goliath comes out and presents a challenge. Rather than the two armies flooding down the hills to fight in the valley, a massacre between them, each army will send one combatant winner take all. In fact, he does this for forty days taunting the armies of Israel every morning, every night.
I defy the armies of Israel. Give me a man and let us fight. But on hearing the Philistines' words, Saul and the Israelites were dismayed and terrified. We even read that whenever Goliath comes out, the Israelite soldiers would slink back into their tents to hide their shame. Couple things here.
We don't really know if this kind of thing ever really took place particularly often. I mean, single combat, one on one for the fate of nations, that certainly would play well in a movie, perhaps not so much in history. But I think we can surmise from the story that presumably both armies are hesitant to attack, which likely means they've sized each other up and neither is confident they can win. But the Philistines figure their ace in the hole is a giant named Goliath if they can just goad Israel into their trap. Now, Saul, for his part, actually seems to want this battle to happen.
I'm not sure that's wise, but he offers a prize to anyone willing to take on Goliath. There's a big cash reward. You get the king's daughter in marriage. And just as a kicker, you and your family never have to pay taxes again if you can defeat him. Still, understandably, no one wants to take up the challenge.
Except one day, David, who's been playing guitar for the king and still moonlighting by looking after his dad's sheep, is sent to the front lines to bring his brothers some cheese. Like, legit, that's what happens. David is on a cheese run, and he overhears Goliath spouting off in front of the Israelites. And he responds, and I'll quote him here. Who is this uncircumcised Philistine that he should defy the armies of the living God?
And granted one of his better lines, if I do say so myself. I mean, he wrote the Psalms. But, I mean, that's killer material right there. From here though, an interesting twist develops. When Eliab, David's oldest brother, heard him speaking with the men, he burned with anger at him and asked, why have you come down here?
And with whom did you leave, even those few sheep in the wilderness? I know how conceited you are, how wicked your heart is. You came down only to watch the battle. It's a pretty interesting little wrinkle before the battle, I think. Remember, Eliab was there when Samuel came to town.
Eliab stood in front of Samuel and was passed over. Eliab was there when Samuel anointed his little brother instead of him. And I'll be honest, that had to sting. In fact, I'll be really honest. I don't even think it has to be that personal.
I think anytime anyone gets anything that we want for ourselves, it can sting. Now, when we're in a good space and we're healthy, we're usually much better at dealing with this. But if we're struggling, when it feels like we're reaching for something we just can't get, perhaps when we feel like we've been taunted by an uncircumcised Philistine for forty days and forty nights, I think jealousy can very quickly become our default. I'll give you an example here. Rachel and I have two incredible kids, but we were well into our thirties when we adopted our son and well into our forties when we adopted our daughter.
And I remember around the time we were adopting our son, all of our close friends were around our age, and that meant they were all having kids. And there was a period where it felt like every month a new close friend would announce their pregnancy to us while we were stuck languishing on some adoption registry list. Of course, logically, those two things are completely unrelated. A friend's pregnancy has no bearing on how long we would wait to adopt, but there were moments where it was hard not to feel like good news for them was somehow bad news for us. Don't get me wrong.
I get it. Like, Eliab is in a tough situation here. Being passed over in favor of his little brother was always going to hurt. But as a general principle, I think we need to work to avoid allowing jealousy to convince us that what is good for someone else is somehow stealing something from us. I know it might feel like it, but goodness is not a zero sum game.
Don't fall into the trap of living as if it is. In fact, my advice is you should train yourself. You should work at celebrating goodness wherever you see it, wherever you can. Cheer on those around you with everything you can muster. In time, you might find that actually begins to shift your perspective of your own life as well.
But David is not done, and he takes his complaint all the way to Saul. And he says, look, I will challenge Goliath. And Saul is understandably unconvinced with this. He likes David's songs. He is less compelled by David's military accolades.
And this is how David responds. He says, look, your servant has been keeping his father's sheep. When a lion or a bear came and carried off a sheep from the flock, I went after it. I struck it. I rescued the sheep from its mouth.
And it turned on me. I seized it by its hair, struck it, and killed it. Your servant has killed both the lion and the bear. This uncircumcised Philistine he he really likes that line. He will be like one of them because he has defied the armies of the living God.
Your Lord who rescued me from the paw of the lion and from the paw of the bear will rescue me from the hand of the Philistine. And Saul said to David, go and the Lord be with you. Now there's certainly a lot that's glossed over in this encounter. Right? Like, I mean, is fighting a bear really the same as challenging a trained warrior in one on one combat with the fate of your nation hanging in the balance?
Probably not. But I do think the story is intended to illustrate a principle. A little outsized ambition is probably good for all of us, but your aspirations also can't be completely unconnected from your experiences either. So should you dream big? Yes.
Should you believe in yourself? Yes. Should you try things that scare you? Absolutely 100%. In fact, I think most of us need to try to reach for bigger, harder, scarier goals in our lives.
But at the same time, every great outcome has to start somewhere practical as well. And oftentimes, we spend our time dreaming about fighting giants without ever having gotten in the ring. And that's probably not going to end the way you hope it will. So you want to write a book? Start a blog.
You want a new job? Start working on a course to develop your skills and your downtime. You want to be in better shape? Take a walk and do it every day until it's easy, and then go for a run. My point is we should believe big things for ourselves just like David did.
But all of that starts when we put in the work where we are. Bears come before giants. And at the same time, I'm not gonna lie, fighting a bear sounds pretty ridiculous. All of the men in the room who think you could do it, you absolutely need to reevaluate your grasp on reality right now. But I think you get my point here.
Often what stops us from getting to where we want to go is not our potential. It's our willingness to take the first step on a very long journey to get there. David's big moment isn't born here in the valley with Goliath. It was born years ago off the page, in the fields, in stories we never saw, and struggles no one ever thought were worth writing down. Chances are that's how your big moment will start too.
But with that, Saul is convinced. And he outfits David in his armor, except David is still a kid. He's way too small for this. He's not strong enough to move freely underneath it. And so he sheds the armor that was never meant for him, goes down to the river, carefully selects five smooth stones, and walks out to meet Goliath with a sling.
And the rest, as they say, is history. Let's pray. God, for all the times that we have wanted to fight giants and tackle big things and found ourselves scared by the immensity of the challenge in front of us, and perhaps maybe even backed away from the calling or the potential or the risk that it posed to us. God, would we look back and learn from that and recognize that we can do things we can barely even dream of today in this moment? But it starts with a first step in a new direction toward all of the potential you have invested in us.
My we believe that you believe that there are incredible things for us to take on, to try, to whisk ourself against, to fail at, and maybe even succeed at if we're just willing to begin. Further, might we trust that that early beginning step might lead us all the way back to the path of Jesus. And that ultimately, beyond anything else, it is your grace and your peace you are trying to instill into us as we move through the world full of love and back to you at the center. In the strong name of the risen Christ, we pray. Amen.
Hey. Jeremy here. And thanks for listening to our podcast. If you're intrigued by the work that we're doing here at Commons, you can head to our website commons.church for more information. You can find us on all of the socials at commons church.
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Have a great week. We'll talk to you soon.