A young lad sat on a rock on the side of a hill, warmed by the early morning sunshine. Sheep were
gathered around him, some grazing peacefully on the short patchy grass while others slept and a few seemed to listen as he played his lyre and sang:
“O Lord, our Lord,
how majestic is your name in all the earth!
You have set your glory above the heavens.”[1]
A sudden discordant clash ended his playing, and the strong, clear voice broke off with a laugh as the singer exclaimed, “Oh, get off my lap, Deborah. I know you like the music, but how can I play if you keep climbing on me? Off! You can sit next to me if you like.”
Music flowed anew from his lyre as the ewe settled down
beside him, and the rare intricacy and beauty of the melody showed this lad was no novice. When the entrancing lead-in called for vocal support, he took up his praise again:
“When I look at your heavens,
the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars,
which you have set in place…”[2]
Suddenly some of the sheep stirred and looked behind the young musician. Stopping playing immediately, he sprang off the rock and looked back up the hill himself.
A man appeared over the top of the hill, then waved and approached the shepherd.
“Hey, David,” he called. “How are the sheep this morning?”
“They’re fine, Dad,” answered the singer. “Deborah wants to sit on my lap whenever I sing.”
“None of them used to do that when I sang to them, my son. You must sound more like a handsome ram than I do!”
David’s happy young laugh sounded across the hillside as father and son smiled at each other.
David’s father, Jesse, was very fond of David, his youngest son.
True, it wasn’t always easy to keep him busy because he was so quick at everything, and Jesse sometimes thought it might be better if he spent less time singing and more time leading the sheep to new pastures, but David seemed to make it work better than any of his brothers. The sheep were fat and contented, their wool luxuriant and clean, showing to Jesse’s experienced eye that they weren’t having to work hard to find food.
“What are the birds pecking
at down there?” he frowned, pointing further down the hill.
“Come and have a look,” said David, a gleam in his eye.
Jesse followed his son, sure that David wanted to show off something. Some of the sheep followed them a little way, but soon stopped and stood uncertain, watching them walk on.
The birds of prey rose from their perches in a noisy cloud as the pair approached, allowing Jesse to see a
carcass lying in the grass. Birds and other predators had been hard at work and the corpse wasn’t easy to identify, but Jesse guessed it had been a lion.
He looked at David, raising his eyebrows. “A lion?” he asked.
David nodded.
“Did you kill it?”
David nodded again, looking pleased with himself.
“You were fortunate,” said Jesse,
grimly. “Lions are dangerous.”
“The sheep warned me. So did the birds and the rock badgers. I knew something dangerous was coming.”
“How did you kill him?”
“This one was fairly easy, because of the early warning. I had my sling ready, a stone in its pocket and another four in my bag as usual.”
“How many stones did you use?” asked his father,
impressed despite himself by David’s matter-of-fact demeanour.
“Two. One in his chest that mostly stopped him and one between the eyes that seemed to kill him – although I still went and cut his throat straight away.”
“I’m impressed, but never take it for granted that you can kill lions.”
“I don’t, Dad, but I have killed a few now, and this one was the easiest. They’re much more
dangerous when they’re really close, and he never was. He must have been 20 metres away when I hit him with the first stone.”
“Did you hit him where you aimed?”
“Yes. I practice a lot, Dad.”
“Very wise, but still, be careful. I want you to care for the sheep, so don’t throw your life away, and don’t get too proud.”
“That’s why I keep writing songs, Dad.
Praising God helps.”
“I think I know what you mean. I’ve always loved singing and playing – enjoyed the closeness to God I could find through them both – but I’ve never written my own songs. No talent, I’m afraid. You’ve created your own music from a very early age.”
“It’s always seemed natural, Dad.”
“That’s a wonderful blessing, so use it well.”
Father and son walked back up the hill, chatting happily together. The sheep were waiting for them, unwilling to approach the dead lion and glad to have their shepherd back again. When they arrived back at the rock pile, David sat down on his favourite stone and waited for Jesse to announce the reason for his visit. Jesse continued to report various family matters for a few minutes, then changed subject abruptly.
“Enough of that.
David, I need you to go to the army camp again.”
David leapt off his rock as if another lion was approaching. His face glowed as he asked eagerly, “Do I go now? Will you be looking after the sheep, Dad?”
Jesse laughed and held up his hands. “Slow down, David, slow down. You’ll leave tomorrow morning and one of the servants will look after the sheep. He’ll come here this evening, and when he does, I
need you to come back to the house straight away. I’ve got some things at the house for you to carry to your brothers. Quite a lot, in fact.”
“Can I stay with the army this time, Dad?”
“No, you’re too young.”
“But Dad, if I can kill lions, surely…”
“No, David,” he said firmly, holding up a hand as David showed every sign of pressing the argument, “…and that’s
that. No more arguing. King Saul has enough of my sons in his army without me giving him all of my sons as giant fodder.”
Jesse left soon afterwards and David was full of excitement for the rest of the day. Towards evening, the promised servant arrived to care for the sheep and David hurried home.
When David got up early the next morning, he looked again at the items Jesse wanted him to deliver. It was a
big pile, particularly when he included the tent Jesse was allowing him to take. The heavy load would tire him, Jesse said, so he could stay for the night in the army encampment if the commander of his brothers’ thousand allowed it.
Jesse didn’t mention it, but he was fully expecting David to stay overnight with the army. When David wanted something, he normally got it, thanks to his open, friendly, guileless, enthusiastic approach – and that wonderful
way with words.
David set off eagerly, but soon realised that his heavy load would slow him down more than he had expected. He had counted on arriving not long after noon, but it was mid-afternoon when he finally saw the camping armies and approached some of the guards who protected the rear of the camp of Israel.
“It’s the young lad from Bethlehem again,” said one, recognising David as he came near. “How are the sheep,
young man?”
David smiled. “Happy and contented. Putting on weight like nobody’s business.”
“Don’t tell the king’s tax collectors,” laughed the man, “or they’ll want their pound of flesh.”
“The lions and bears want theirs, too. Sometimes I wonder if there’s much difference between being a shepherd and a soldier. But Dad wants me to do one and won’t let me do the other.”
“You’ve still got some growing up to do,” answered the guard. “It’ll come soon enough, and then you might wish you weren’t a soldier. The Philistine giants are pretty terrifying – as you’ll see if you’re still here in a while.”
“Does their army put on a performance?”
“Well, we both do that, but they’ve tweaked the script a little. After the usual ‘we’re better than you’ act, they send out a
giant. Just one, but he threatens us, big time. You’ll see.”
“Has there been any fighting recently?”
“No, nothing since this giant has come to sneer at us twice each day.”
“How long has that been?”
“Today’s the fortieth day. He’s already done it this morning. He says the same thing every time. I’m not sure he has a big enough vocabulary to say
it differently or a big enough brain to think of anything else to say. I bet someone wrote him the script and he’s spent the last few years learning it.”
David chuckled at the guard’s disparaging remarks. He turned to look at the Philistine army and saw movement beginning on both sides.
“Ah, here we go,” said the guard, pointing. “See the groups of our men lining up over there? And there are the Philistines
moving opposite them. So we’ll have the normal confrontation first, then you can see what follows.”
“I’d better find my brothers quickly before I miss out. Can I leave this stuff anywhere?”
“Over there,” pointed the guard once more, “you’ll see the storemen and keepers of the baggage over there. They’ll look after things for you.”
David hurried across and soon arranged to collect his goods later. The
storeman was also able to point out where his brothers’ unit was, and David ran quickly across to where they were gathering. It wasn’t hard to find his brothers, and he greeted them enthusiastically, “Hi Eliab! Hi Abinadab! Hi Shammah! I’ve brought some things from home for you. What’s going on?”
His brothers greeted him, but their greetings were cool. David was not only the youngest in the family, he was far too successful in
everything he put his hand to. His older brothers had little opportunity to lord it over him as older brothers reasonably expect.
“It’s time for the afternoon confrontation,” said Eliab, “and then it’s Goliath’s turn.”
“Who’s Goliath?”
“He’s a Philistine giant,” interjected Abinadab.
“He’s twice as big as any of our soldiers,” added Shammah, exaggerating a little, but
not much.
“He even makes King Saul look small!” finished Eliab.
“I can’t wait to see him!” answered David.
His older brothers rolled their eyes.
By this time, the first Israelite groups were lined up, ready for the confrontation, weapons at the ready. At a shout from nearby, David’s brothers hurried into their places a few rows back, David tagging along behind.
He didn’t advertise it, but he made sure that his sling was ready, just in case, although he didn’t have the number or size of stones he would have liked.
With his brothers, he marched down from the top of the hill towards the Philistines. This was the confrontation. Both sides marched down towards the stream that split the valley in two, waving their weapons and shouting the battle cry. David joined in, waving a fist in the air.
The armies never came close to a real battle, not even within bowshot or sling-shot. This was theatre, an expected mass performance – but in the next stage, the Philistines were ignoring the ordinary rulebook.
Down and back, left and right, shouting and waving, alternately jogging and marching, each side doing its best to intimidate the enemy. So far, so good.
Then a roar spread through the
Philistine ranks like an ocean wave breaking on rocks and threatening everything in its path. At the top of the hill, David saw him, silhouetted against the afternoon sky: a giant, threatening form, clad all in bronze armour. Between his shoulders was slung a spear that looked like a tree-trunk. His armour bearer stood in front of him, tall yet dwarfed by the master he was meant to protect, his shield as big as himself.
Goliath stood for a few
moments, arms spread wide, presenting his greatness to the watching audience. Then with a shout, he began to stride down the hill towards the Philistine front lines and the Israelites beyond. The lines of soldiers opened up before him, looking like minnows in the face of an enormous shark. His armour-bearer scuttled along in front of him, proud of his association with this irresistible symbol of Philistine superiority.
Goliath strode on down
through the front lines, continuing until he was but a hundred metres from the stream. There he stopped, feet planted wide apart as he raised his chin proudly and looked at the army of Israel, contempt in his eyes.
He stood and bellowed at Saul’s army, “Why have you come out for battle? Aren’t I a Philistine, and aren’t you servants of Saul? Choose a man to come down to me. If he is able to fight with me and kill me, then we will be your servants.
But if I prevail against him and kill him, then you,” he paused a scanned his audience, pointing at them all with an enormous finger, “shall be our servants and serve us.”
The Philistine paused again and looked around, scanning the entire army of Israel as they quaked in their sandals.
Then he sneered, “I defy the ranks of Israel. Give me a man, that we may fight together.”
Notes
[1] Psalm 8:1
[2] Psalm 8:3
