Chuckling to himself, he shook his giant head and wondered what the guys on the other side were thinking. They must have a death wish. It was the only plausible explanation for bringing child-sized weapons to a giant-sized battle. Seriously. Their tiny arrows could never pierce his heavy armor. Their little swords and spears would never penetrate his enormous shield. If, for just one moment, they believed they could stand and fight against him, possibly win, they were delusional. One swoop of his oversized hand would fell them. A single-handed squeeze of their throats would send them to their grave. His spear could easily take down several men at once with the swing of its shaft or the stab of its head. Ignorance had made them gather. It was the only logical answer. They obviously had yet to hear his name or know his fame. He was happy to introduce himself.
Piece by piece, Goliath strapped on his massive bronze armor. Helmet. Leg armor. One hundred and twenty-five-pound coat of mail. A smaller man would have fallen beneath the weight. Goliath did it with one hand. Grabbing his bronze javelin, he placed it in the carrying place on his shoulder. Hoisting his impressive spear with its 15-pound head of iron, he stood to his full height. Shaking out his limbs, the nine-foot and a few odd inches of menacing warrior squared his shoulders, settled his face into grim lines, and strolled out to confront Israel. It was time to rattle the boys.
Stopping on the hilltop overlooking the valley of Elah, Goliath glowered at the men gathered on the opposing side. They looked like ants. Normal men. Tiny. Puny. Squashable. He could probably finish this battle in minutes, barely breaking a sweat. But there was no fun in that. He would play with them first. Taunt them. Torment them. Terrify them. It was more fun that way. For him. He took pleasure in seeing them run scared. Enjoyed watching them hide in fear. Found humor in seeing them actively choose to stall as if they could outwait him, outwit him. It wouldn’t work. He was infinitely patient. He had nothing to lose by waiting. He had never been defeated. He wasn’t going to be now. But it was unending fun to watch them try.
Finished with the staring part of his challenge, Goliath opened his mouth to begin the first phase of his attack. The mental part. Roaring across the valley, he questioned the sanity of their decision to come out and fight him and his army. What did they think they were doing? Why were they there? How, exactly, did they think this was going to turn out? Were they hoping for a miracle? They were unarguably going to need one! They should take a good look at what they were up against. Him. Goliath. He was undeniably a champion. Enormous in stature and build. Broad shoulders. Thick neck. Huge arms. All covered in corded muscle. Even when he wasn’t flexing. He was a champion. The champion. Of the Philistines. He won all their battles. He never lost. He wasn’t planning to lose now. Why would he? They weren’t champions. Didn’t even have a champion. They were just the feeble servants of Saul.
In fairness, Saul had won some battles. Not because his army was strong and well-equipped. They weren’t. His wins were more strategy than strength. Sneaking around. Staging surprises. Unfortunately, they had never completely defeated the Philistines. Their battles were fierce and frequent. Or they had been. Goliath was planning to put an end to that. Right here. In the Valley of Elah. He could be sneaky himself. Confidently planning a slaughter, he wrapped it up in a challenge. If Israel would send someone, just one man, to fight him, he would make them a deal. Losers become the winners’ slaves. It was a lopsided challenge. He knew it. He knew they would never win. Not against him. They knew it too. They had no man as large and strong and intimidating as this giant. Their fear radiated across the valley in nearly palpable waves, resulting in clandestine meetings and hushed fireside conversations. The Israelites were worried. They didn’t want to serve the Philistines. They were happy serving Saul. Apparently, they forgot they served God, too. Terrified and shaken, they kept to their tents, hiding out, anxiously refusing to face the inevitable.
Forty days passed that way. Every morning and evening, Goliath stalked out to present his challenge again. Every time the Israelite army hid in fear. No one moved. No one strategized. No one tried anything. Fear consumed them. Their minds were muddled. Their limbs felt paralyzed. No one wanted to move forward, yet they couldn’t go back, either. To retreat would signal acceptance of defeat. So they stayed. Still. Until a kid from the country came to bring rations to his brothers and carry a report on the battle back to his father. A brave kid. A kid of inner strength. A kid who wasn’t afraid of giants. A kid who knew who he served. And it wasn’t Saul.
Listening to the terrifying challenge issued by the Philistine giant, David understood the fear saturating the camp. The man who chose to fight the giant wouldn’t be fighting only for himself. He would be fighting for the lives of the entire nation. Innocent babies. Young children. Women. Aged. Infirm. Harm would envelop them all if he failed. It was a heavy responsibility. Huge. And it wasn’t going away. They couldn’t just flank the Valley of Elah forever. Something had to give. Someone had to step up. Someone had to put their faith in more than their battle skills, verbal warfare, or brute strength. Someone had to realize they weren’t just servants of Saul. They were servants of Almighty God, Captain of Heaven’s Armies, Champion of Israel. He was on their side. His presence was with them. His power went before them. This was God’s battle, and He would win. Goliath’s biggest misstep had already been made. He assumed they served Saul. He was wrong. They served God. He was their champion. And He had never lost a battle, either. David believed.
Rushing to King Saul, David offered to fight the giant. Saul almost laughed out loud. The very thought was ridiculous. This kid was courageous, but crazy. Goliath would eat him alive. In seconds. David pressed on. He could do this. God would help him. God had never let him down. Standing between predators and his herds, God had given David the strength and courage to kill lions and bears with his bare hands. He had protected David against the enemies of his flock. God would do it again. David was certain. God, their protecting Shepherd, would stand with David between the predator spewing hate and lies at His flock, and He would do it again. God would dispatch their enemy. David was sure of it. With no other options, Saul relented.
Leaving armor, sword, and spear behind, David slipped a few smooth stones into his shepherd’s bag and slung it across his shoulder to rest on his hip. Grabbing his staff in one hand and a sling in the other, he straightened his shoulders and confidently began the trek across the valley to confront the Philistine in his own space. Behind him, the Israelite army held their breath, waiting for the slaughter. His brothers mentally prepared themselves for the conversation with their father. The opposing army stood, mouths agape, watching the kid purposefully striding toward them. And Goliath grinned. Then chuckled. Then laughed.
Wild, whooping laughter boomed through the valley, echoing off the hills and ricocheting from the rocks. By the time David arrived at the place of confrontation, the entire Philistine army was cackling. They found the scene hilarious. A tiny teenager with a slingshot walking toward their giant like he was a threat. They had rarely seen anything more humorous. Goliath’s ugly laughter joined theirs, but still he walked out to battle. They didn’t join him. He wouldn’t need them. He could do this with one hand behind his back and his eyes shut. Victory would soon be theirs.
In his most terrifying voice, Goliath boomed out a question at the kid walking toward him. His voice would have sparked fear in a lesser individual. David’s spine just straightened, his chin raised. He wasn’t afraid. Not of the giant. Not of his insults. Not of his threats. That menacing scowl and growling voice might terrify other men and send them scurrying off, but it didn’t budge David. At all. He knew who he served. The God of Heaven’s Armies. The One who had never failed him, never let him down. He wasn’t walking into this alone. God was with him. This was God’s battle. God’s war. God’s victory. And that is what he told Goliath. “You walked into battle loaded down with weapons. Sword. Spear. Javelin. I came with one. God. My God. The One I serve. You defy Him, but He defines me. His power is with me. We will win this battle because we don’t serve Saul, we serve God. And the God we serve rescues His people. Every. Single. Time.” And God did. With one smooth stone, thrown with the accuracy of Almighty God, the Good Shepherd rescued his flock. His people. His servants. Safely walking them out of the shadow of the valley of death and setting a table for them in the very presence of their enemies.
Fear gripped the Philistine soldiers as their champion fell lifeless to the ground. Their confidence fell with him. All faith in a victory died. Goliath had led them in a gross error of judgment. He thought they were fighting servants of Saul. They weren’t. They were fighting servants of the Almighty God. Scared, trembling, a little cowardly. Still servants of God. They were His people. His power was behind them. He was never going to let them down. God always takes care of His people. Victory was theirs not because of who they were or how much strength they had. No. Victory was theirs because of who they served. Not the king of Israel. The King of Heaven. Victory relies on who you serve! (I Samuel 17; Psalm 23)
That truth never changes. It matters who you serve. The evil one doesn’t want you to realize that, but the moment you do, the victory is yours. See, the evil one uses the same things against us that Goliath used against the Israelites. Taunts. Torments. Terrors. He plays with our emotions. Laughs at our fear. Keeps us living in that space as long as we let him. He doesn’t need to do anything else. If the evil one can keep us living in fear, frozen in the same space, not growing, not working, not flourishing, he can stop us from ministering, sharing, laboring for Jesus. He can stop the spread of the Gospel if he can make us afraid and keep us from remembering who we serve. Because the second we remember that we serve the sovereign God of the universe, we will stop being afraid and fight like the warriors of God we are! We will live in the awareness that our God is with us and goes before us. We will find strength and courage there. We can’t lose. Not with God on our side. We aren’t even fighting our own battles. God is fighting them for us. And He will win. He always does. That’s why it matters who you serve. (Exodus 14:14; Deuteronomy 3:22; Psalm 34:17; Proverbs 18:10; 21:31; Ephesians 6:12; Isaiah 54:17; Luke 10:19; I Corinthians 15:57; II Corinthians 2:14; Romans 8:37)
At the end of Joshua’s life, he posed his own challenge to the people of Israel. “Choose. Now. Today. Who will you serve? God or something else. Anything else. Popularity. Possessions. Profits. People. And he followed it up with his own personal declaration, “I choose to serve the Lord.” Today, centuries later, in times far removed from what they were in Joshua’s day, we all need to answer his challenge again. Individually. Communally. We need to make our choice and stand firmly in it. The evil one has not stopped his attacks of fear, hate, and aggression. He has not stopped raining terror on the people of God. He has not quit tormenting us. He never will. So it matters who you serve. Now more than ever. You need to know that answer. Live by it. Stand on it in every circumstance or situation. Because your victory tomorrow depends on your choice today, it matters who you serve. (Joshua 24:14-15; Psalm 18:32-34,39; I Kings 18:21: Matthew 5:24; Deuteronomy 20:4; John 12:26; James 1:12; Revelation 2:10)