1 Samuel 17:1-37 Place your Confidence in the Lord

1 Samuel 17:1-37 Place your Confidence in the Lord

Nathan Wakefield / General Adult

Pursuing the Heart of God / 1 Samuel 17:1-37

It took a young boy to remind the people that their confidence was misplaced and needed to be returned to confidence in the Lord.

Theological Proposition/Focus:It took a young boy to remind the people that their confidence was misplaced and needed to be returned to confidence in the Lord.

Introduction

Image: Squibs

Emily and I enjoy going to the shooting range and training each other. One of the things that we have done is to load each other's guns and randomly insert a dud into the magazine so that we can realistically train with real world type failures. Why, because you cannot have 100% confidence in any gun or any ammo. The person who places their complete confidence in their gun or their ammo will eventually find a failure.

15 years ago my brother and I were out shooting and as he was shooting my handgun he suddenly stopped, looked at me, and said that didn't feel right. We immediately called a cease fire, cleared the champer, dropped the magazine and noticed we had a problem, the bullet was lodged in the barrell. We had what is commonly called a squib a common word for a very uncommen event whereby a piece of ammunition does not ahve powder and so the bullet fails to come out of the barrell. It is easy enough to fix as long as you notice it, if you don't and try to shoot another bullet it results in the gun exploding in your hand.

Again, the person who places their complete confidence in their gun or ammo can find themselvces in a bad situation. Had my brother said, "that felt wrong, oh well," and moved on he would have been injured. But if you cannot put your confidence in their relatively simple mechanical device called a gun what can you put your confidence in? The answer, nothing except God.

Setting the Stage:

The Philistines were a powerful seafaring people who settled along the coastal plains of Canaan, in cities like Gaza, Ashdod, Ashkelon, Gath, and Ekron. From the time of the judges, they had been a persistent and formidable enemy of Israel. They oppressed the Israelites during the days of Samson, raided their towns, and sought to dominate the region militarily and culturally. The Philistines had iron weapons and a more advanced military, while Israel was often fragmented and poorly armed. This imbalance made their clashes all the more perilous for God's people.

By the time we reach 1 Samuel 17, the Philistines have already humiliated Israel in battle on multiple occasions. In 1 Samuel 4, they captured the ark of the covenant, dealing Israel a crushing defeat and exposing the nation's spiritual decay. Later, under the leadership of Samuel, Israel won a miraculous victory at Mizpah (1 Samuel 7), but peace was temporary. The Philistines continued to be a threat throughout Saul's reign, constantly pressing into Israelite territory. So when the Philistine army lines up again in the Valley of Elah, with a giant named Goliath taunting the armies of the living God, this is not just a new threat—it's a continuation of an old war, filled with fear, history, and the need for a champion to turn the tide.

Body

If your faith is in man then you need to remember: There is always a bigger fish! (1-11)

Image: Star Wars

In Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, there's a moment when the team is fleeing underwater and a terrifying sea creature begins to pursue them. But just as danger seems imminent, an even larger creature appears and devours their attacker. Without panic, Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn calmly states, "There's always a bigger fish." Likely the writers envisioned a reminder that no matter how overwhelming a challenge may seem there is always something bigger at work. But I want to take it a different direction, I want to remind us that no matter what, if our trust is in anything other than god we are not trusting in something we can count on.

The people had placed their confidence in Saul (1 Samuel 8:20).

The Israelites' desire for a human king to lead them into battle is clearly expressed in 1 Samuel 8:20, where they say, "Then we will be like all the other nations, with a king to lead us and to go out before us and fight our battles." This request followed their dissatisfaction with Samuel's sons, whom he had appointed as judges; they were corrupt and did not walk in Samuel's ways. But the issue ran deeper than merely poor leadership—Israel was rejecting God as their true King. Until this point, God Himself had been their ruler, guiding them through judges who served as His representatives. By demanding a human king, the people were expressing discontent with God's leadership and seeking to conform to the practices of the surrounding nations. Although Samuel was grieved by their request, God told him to grant it, saying, "It is not you they have rejected, but they have rejected me as their king" (1 Samuel 8:7). This marked a pivotal moment in Israel's history, as they traded divine rule for a human monarchy.

This physical description of Saul plays directly into Israel's desire for a human king. In asking for a king like the nations around them (1 Samuel 8:5), the Israelites were not only rejecting God's leadership but also craving a visible, imposing figure who could inspire confidence and lead them in battle. Saul's impressive stature and outward appearance made him the kind of leader they thought they needed—a man who looked the part of a king (1 Samuel 9:2). But this focus on external qualities revealed their misplaced priorities. Rather than trusting in God's power and presence, they placed their hope in human strength and appearance. Ironically, as Saul's reign unfolds, it becomes clear that physical stature is no substitute for spiritual character and obedience to God.

But the Philistines had a more formable warrior than Saul (1 Samuel 17:1-7).

1 Samuel 17opens on the edge of yet another clash between Israel and the Philistines, long-standing enemies whose enmity stretched back generations. This particular confrontation takes place in the Valley of Elah, just a few miles southwest of Jerusalem. The two armies are drawn up on opposing hillsides with a valley between them—close enough to taunt, but neither willing to make the first move. Instead of engaging in full battle, a proposal arises: each army will send out a champion to fight on behalf of their people, and the outcome of that single combat will determine the fate of the nations. This strategy wasn't just military—it was symbolic. It meant each side was staking everything on one warrior.

This is where the irony sharpens. Israel had begged for a king who would "go out before us and fight our battles" (1 Samuel 8:20), and God had granted them Saul, a man who stood head and shoulders above everyone else (1 Samuel 9:2). He looked the part—tall, strong, handsome—a natural choice for a warrior-king. But now, when Israel needs their king to lead them against a fearsome enemy, Saul remains silent in the background. Why? Because the Philistines had a bigger fish. Goliath of Gath towered over even Saul, standing over nine feet tall, encased in bronze armor that weighed more than 100 pounds, and armed with a massive spear tipped with a fifteen-pound iron point. He was not just a soldier—he was a war machine. Saul may have been impressive among Israelites, but next to Goliath, he was outmatched. The people had placed their hope in the strongest man they could find, only to discover he wasn't strong enough.

When you put your trust in a mere man you take an incredible risk (1 Samuel 17:8-11).

Goliath stepped forward and issued his challenge with ruthless confidence: "Choose a man for yourselves, and let him come down to me… If he is able to fight me and kill me, we will be your servants; but if I prevail… then you shall be our servants" (1 Samuel 17:8-9). This was a winner-takes-all proposition. For a people who trusted in the Lord, such a challenge might have been welcomed as an opportunity for God to display His power. But Israel wasn't trusting in God—they were trusting in Saul. And Saul, the man who once hid among the baggage on the day of his coronation (1 Samuel 10:22), offered no answer. He was afraid, just like the rest of them.

This is what happens when we place our trust in human strength alone. People are fallible. Even the best of them can be overcome. When our confidence rests on mere men—whether political leaders, cultural heroes, or even our own abilities—we are building on a foundation that can and will crack under pressure. Fallen humanity has a flawless track record in one thing: failure. And when fear looms and giants roar, human strength without divine help proves tragically insufficient. Israel stood paralyzed, not because the situation was impossible, but because they were looking for salvation in the wrong place.

MTR: Think about your biggest source of anxiety and then turn that over to God.

What does this look like? If you are stressed over a job ask yourself if you trust God enough to ask him what he wants you to do regardless of the money or boss. If it is children, are you willing to follow God's model even if it runs counter to the world. This might mean choosing church activities over school or sports. If you are stressed about your health it might mean bringing your concerns to a group for prayer even if it is uncomfortable talking about weakness.

Just because you are on the sidelines does not mean you don't have a role to play (12-24).

There is a striking contrast between the first section of 1 Samuel 17 (verses 1-11) and what follows in verses 12-16. In the first part, we're introduced to Goliath—a towering, heavily armored, battle-hardened warrior whose mere presence strikes fear into the hearts of Israel's army. But then the scene shifts. In verse 12, we meet David. And what a contrast he is: the youngest of eight brothers, a shepherd, a servant. While Goliath dominates the battlefield, David runs errands. He's not part of Israel's military strategy—he's delivering snacks. He's not the first string, not even second string. He's the water boy.

But here's what we must remember: sometimes the most important thing we can do in God's grand plan is to be faithful in the small things He has given us. David wasn't trying to insert himself into the action. He wasn't pushing for recognition. He was simply obeying his father and tending the sheep. In God's providence, the path to kingship and victory often begins with a lunch delivery. It reminds us that faithfulness in obscurity is often the training ground for usefulness in the spotlight.

We need to understand something, in the midst of God's grand plan, sometimes we need to just embrace life and do what God has given us to do.

When Life Seems Mundane, God May Be Working (12-16).

These verses paint a picture of the ordinary. David is going back and forth between his responsibilities at home—caring for his father's sheep—and his role as a courier, delivering food to his brothers at the battlefield. There's nothing flashy or heroic about what he's doing. There are no trumpets, no divine visions—just obedience to the daily tasks before him. And yet, while Goliath is taunting and Saul is cowering, David is quietly learning faithfulness, courage, and responsibility. David does not have impressive military gear or an impressive physical statue he simply has a mundane job to do and does that job.

If you feel like you are second string warming the bench, or worse just the water boy you should take heart. Just because you are not in the midst of the battle does not mean God is not at work, and just because you are not on the front line does not mean God is not going to use you in a mighty way.

If you've ever felt like your life is stuck in the "in-between," like you're on the bench or just running errands while others are fighting the big battles, take heart. Just because you're not in the spotlight doesn't mean God is not at work. Verse 16 tells us that this standoff between Israel and the Philistines dragged on for forty days. But in that silence, God was setting the stage. What seemed like a stalemate was actually the prelude to a mighty act of deliverance. You may be walking through a season that feels ordinary or even frustrating—but don't underestimate what God can do through your faithfulness in the small things.

Verse 16 tells us that for a period of 40 days this standoff continued. But God was still at work and in his time David was going to emerge as the hero. We don't see the big picture and so we don't know what God is going to do next, it may be that while we are running errands as the water boy God is preparing something incredible.

The Ordinary Day That Changed Everything (17-19).

Verses 17-19 describe a seemingly routine day. Jesse, David's father, sends him with food for his brothers on the front lines and instructs him to bring back a report. It's a father's practical concern: "Take these provisions to your brothers and let me know how they're doing." Nothing unusual—just a normal, caring request. But there's a subtle reminder tucked in the text: Jesse says the brothers are "with Saul and all the men of Israel." That phrase may seem incidental, but perhaps it's meant to make us pause. After all, Saul—the one Israel had demanded to lead them into battle—has been conspicuously silent in the face of Goliath's threats. I wonder if this reference to Saul here is supposed to remind us that not all is well and the people have placed their confidence in the wrong person.

Jesse may be trusting in Saul, but the reader already knows Saul is paralyzed by fear. It's as if the narrative is nudging us to look beyond human leaders and see that God is preparing a different kind of deliverer. What feels like a normal day for David is, in reality, the turning point in a national crisis. God often begins His greatest works on the most unsuspecting days.

Godly Obedience Opens the Door for Divine Opportunity (20-24).

Verse 20 tells us that David got up early and set out to fulfill his father's instructions. He traveled roughly fifteen miles from Bethlehem to the battlefront—on foot, carrying supplies. That alone speaks volumes. The average person walks around three miles per hour, maybe four if moving briskly. To make it in time for the army's morning deployment, David must have moved with real urgency and energy. There's no sense of dragging his feet. This young shepherd took his ordinary task seriously.

When he arrives, David does what he always does—he's faithful. He hands off the supplies to the quartermaster, then runs to the front lines to check on his brothers. But what he sees when he gets there is heartbreaking. Israel's army is lined up, but there's no courage, no hope. Goliath is again shouting defiance—not just against Israel, but against Israel's God. And no one is stepping forward to stop him. For forty days this has been going on, and no one has moved. David arrives at a moment that looks hopeless—but for someone who trusts God, this moment is not a disaster. It's an opportunity.

Image: Mario Rivera the relief pitcher

In baseball, a relief pitcher is someone who doesn't start the game but is brought in later, often in high-pressure situations, to help secure the win. While starting pitchers may get most of the attention, relief pitchers are trusted to step in when the game is on the line. They have to be ready at a moment's notice—even if they've spent most of the game sitting in the bullpen. Their role is a powerful picture of quiet preparation and the importance of being faithful, even when you're not in the spotlight.

A famous example comes from Game 7 of the 2003 American League Championship Series. Mariano Rivera, the legendary closer for the New York Yankees, wasn't in the game at the start—but when everything was on the line, he was called in. He pitched three scoreless innings in extra innings, keeping the Red Sox at bay long enough for the Yankees to win with a walk-off home run. Rivera didn't hit the game-winner, but his quiet, steady faithfulness made it possible. In the same way, David in 1 Samuel 17 didn't start the battle. He wasn't the first choice, or even the second. But because he was faithfully doing what was asked of him, when his moment came, God used him to bring victory.

Calling people back to God may not be easy but that doesn't mean you shouldn't do it (25-37).

In these verses, we witness David's response to Goliath's defiance—not simply as a military threat, but as a spiritual affront. The heart of the matter is captured in the second half of verse 26:"Who is this uncircumcised Philistine, that he should defy the armies of the living God?"David sees the real issue: not the size of the enemy, but the honor of God. The people are worried about military odds, David is concerned about God's reputation. While everyone else saw a giant problem, David saw a theological crisis. The problem wasn't Goliath—it was the people's spiritual blindness. They had forgotten who they were and whose name they bore. In that moment, David's courage wasn't about self-confidence—it was about God-confidence. The people should have known better.

You may find that those who should no better are focussed on the wrong thing (25-27).

Look at verse 25. The soldiers are discussing rewards: wealth, a royal marriage, and a tax-free future. Their minds are set on incentives, not on the glory of God. They speak of how Goliath "defies Israel," but David sees it differently—Goliath is defyingGod. That's a critical difference. The people see an invincible giant; David sees a powerless idol-worshiper standing against the living God. While they measure the odds, David measures the offense against heaven. His question in verse 26 isn't curiosity about the reward—it's astonishment thatno oneis standing up for God. David's words call the people to lift their eyes above the battlefield and recognize the real conflict: not Israel versus Goliath, but false gods versus the living God.

There is a lot of contrast. The Israelites see and invincible giant who their king cannot hope to defeat and David sees a mere uncircumcised Philistine whose god's are lifeless idols and cannot hold a candle to the living God of Israel.

You may find that your help and direction are not wanted (28-30).

When David starts to speak up, he doesn't get admiration—he gets scorn. His oldest brother Eliab lashes out, accusing him of arrogance and insolence. But David's faith is met not with support, but with suspicion. Sometimes, those closest to you—those who should understand—will be the first to question your motives. David doesn't retaliate; he simply keeps asking the same question. Faithfulness means continuing to speak truth, even when your voice is unwelcome. The people around him had settled into fear. They had no interest in a different perspective, even one grounded in trust in God.

You may need to bring people's focus back to the living God (31-37).

So what does David do? He keeps at it. Embedded within David's question is an implicit offer to face Goliath and eventually that offer reaches the ears of the king. Saul is curious, but skeptical. David responds not by boasting, but by testifying. He recounts how God delivered him from the paw of the lion and the paw of the bear—and how God will deliver him from the hand of this Philistine. What's powerful here is David's focus. His past experiences aren't badges of honor—they are examples of God's faithfulness. If you've ever wondered how to talk about what God has done in your life without sounding self-promoting, look to David. He gives God the credit and draws a straight line from God's past provision to present confidence.

Interestingly, the Hebrew word for "paw" and "hand" is the same (מִיַּד), suggesting that Goliath is just another wild beast who will fall by God's hand. David's speech is a call to refocus: the battle belongs to the Lord. And that's what the people needed to remember. It is God who is the Hero and David wants the people to refocus on God.