By Kerwin Holmes, Jr.

Of course, when you are a hero a lot of people don’t want you to be.

Oh how true we have learned that statement to be.
We need to pause and appreciate the weight of the matter that just occurred in this saga of David’s life. Saul was the de facto king of Israel, but he also was plagued by his insecurities to the point where he preferred (and received) popularity among his fellow Israelites over his obedience to God. Young David, who was noted to have been a fit and impressive-looking young warrior (not the midget-lad that most Bible teachers interject into the Scriptures) was also noted to be a man who was good-mannered and handsome (a warrior poet, if you will, and yes I did just slyly slip in a recommended resource there). David was a solid and well-rounded young man, and was hired to play his music to calm Saul whenever he was tormented by the evil spirit God sent to humble him. David was blessed by God so that his music was effective to cure Saul, though it still was not enough for the self-absorbed Saul to take note of David, the rather insignificant young man who cured him even while he was on the field of battle.
Proud and popular warrior-king Saul couldn’t even remember who David was.
Currently in the saga, the Israelite army and the Philistine army stand face to face on opposite hills overlooking a ravine which functioned as the battlefield where one warrior-hero from each army was to face each other to the death for a winner-take-all victory. It was classic, epic combat from the Bronze Age at its finest. David’s three eldest brothers, especially Eliab the protective eldest brother (and the one Samuel the prophet would have chosen for king), stand mortified at their boisterous youngest brother who, having come on their father’s errand, had suddenly secured the position of being the one to face off against the Philistine warrior-hero– alone. Now, King Saul, the warrior king of great victories, stands with the rest of his cowardly men before the weighty battle scene that for many weeks the abnormally massive and strong Philistine warrior-hero named Goliath dominated. This same Goliath was the one who, for forty days, ridiculed and blasphemed the God of Israel and the Israelite warriors. Goliath challenged anyone who was daring enough to fight him to the death and to prove their worth on the battlefield–

and his severed head is now gruesomely in the hands of young David, who stands armed with his staff and sling (the only protection equipment he carried with him on his father’s errand), and his latest acquisition: Goliath’s mighty sword.

Shock. And. Awe.

To say the least, this was a rather stunning development.

It was so stunning, in fact, that the Philistines suddenly became very eager to return home to report the news, like Pre-K’ers showing their parents their report cards…or politicians showing their constituents their latest voting ads.

The Israelite army roared and rushed toward and past David after his conquest of the Philistine giant, and the Philistine army rapidly turned tail for the refuge of their (apparently) nearest fortified city: Ekron. But, as was most common in warfare in those days, the Philistine retreat was when they suffered the most casualties. Israelite warriors cut Philistine warriors down all the way to not only Ekron, but to Gath (Goliath’s hometown) and to Shaaraim (a city providentially named “the two gates”). Goliath’s many boasts about the weaknesses of Israel and Israel’s God resulted not only in his own death, but the deaths of many of his fellow soldiers right up to the gates of not just his own hometown, but two others, including a city literally called “the two gates.” In case you didn’t know, a fortified city’s gates were usually a welcome sign for soldiers on the march for a friendly and fortified position, and they were the principle place of adjudication during times of peace in many nations of that time. The inhabitants of those areas would have had to deal with seeing their warriors cut down before their eyes as they rapidly decided whether to open and accept the refugees or close for their own protection. The sights and the sounds of wailing men being slaughtered would have been the exact opposite of anything patriotic.

God will not be mocked.

But what of David? Well, we are told that the Israelite army seized a great victory that day. We are even told that Saul had earlier tried to bribe his soldiers with marriage to his daughter, great amounts of money, and familial tax exemption if anyone killed Goliath. Saul had promises to keep. We are not told yet that he kept them.

But we are told that even when David went out to fight Goliath, after reintroducing himself to Saul, Saul did not remember who David was, and asked his commander, Abner, who David was. Even Abner did not know or recognize David, and it took David to reintroduce himself yet again to Saul after having killed Goliath (severed head and mighty sword in both hands) to proclaim who he was for Saul to finally realize:

“I am the son of your servant Jesse, the Bethlehemite.”

David’s deed caught the attention of another man who had also proven himself to be daring and brave: Saul’s son Jonathan. In fact, so much did Jonathan esteem what David did, that he gave David his first official battle armaments from his own possessions: David received a robe, torso armor, another sword, a war belt, and a bow. King Saul even refused to allow David to return home, immediately taking his new champion along with him on his campaigns (Saul was ever eager for glory and desperate for soldiers). Jonathan and David, kindred spirits of valor on the battlefield (and honorable, godly men at heart distinct from Saul), became close companions in life from that time forward. As David proved his battle prowess during the rest of the campaign, he was promoted through Saul’s ranks until he held a position alike Jonathan’s in the army, who also led his own garrison of soldiers.

I want to pause here to point out that Jonathan certainly was a brave man. He once crossed a narrow ravine that had sharp rock columns on both sides to assault an elevated Philistine position. He only had his armor-bearer with him, the hired hand who also would have most likely been his sparring partner, at least equal in prowess, and would have carried extra weapons to replace Jonathan’s should they become broken. Those two not only crossed the narrow path alone, but allowed the elevated Philistines to see them approach. Then they climbed up hand and foot and assaulted the Philistines on their elevated position. How they even reached the top was a feat from God. And prior to the feat, Jonathan gave a proclamation of faith very similar to David’s. It is certainly a story worth reading (and admittedly, one of the ones that captivated my boyish mind in childhood).

But it turned out that everywhere Saul and his entourage (David in tow) came within sight of an Israelite city during the campaign after Goliath was slain, the women would stream out singing a particular song that irked the warrior king’s nerves: