The Anatomy of Fear Text: 1 Samuel 17:1-11
Introduction: The Paralyzing Power of Unbelief
We come this morning to a story that is familiar to every Sunday School child, and for that very reason, it is a story that is almost entirely misunderstood by the modern church. We have domesticated the account of David and Goliath. We have turned it into a sentimental story about an underdog, a motivational tale about how the little guy can win if he just tries hard enough. But this is to rip the heart out of the text. This is not an episode of VeggieTales. This is a declaration of war, not just between armies, but between gods. This is a story about the collision of two religions: the religion of the living God and the religion of brute, material force.
The scene is set with meticulous care. Two armies are arrayed for battle, Israel on one mountain, the Philistines on the other, with the valley of Elah in between. This is a stalemate. It is a picture of impotence. And into this valley of decision steps the embodiment of the pagan worldview. His name is Goliath, and he is the logical conclusion of a world without God. He is power, he is size, he is intimidation, and he is defiance. He is what the world worships.
And on the other side, we have the people of God, led by a king who was chosen because he looked the part. Saul was a head taller than anyone else in Israel. He was their giant. And when the Philistine giant challenges Israel's giant, Israel's giant cowers in his tent. Saul and all Israel with him were "dismayed and greatly afraid." This is more than just a military crisis; it is a theological collapse. It is a crisis of faith. Fear is the fever, but unbelief is the disease. When the people of God forget who their God is, they will inevitably begin to fear what the world fears. They will be paralyzed by the Goliaths of this world, whether they come in the form of military threats, cultural pressure, or political intimidation.
This passage is a diagnostic tool. It reveals the anatomy of fear. It shows us what happens when God's people adopt the enemy's definition of reality. The Philistines saw a giant and a sword, and they trusted in that. Israel saw a giant and a sword, and they were terrified of that. Both sides were operating on the same materialistic assumptions. The only one who would introduce a different set of facts was a shepherd boy who knew that the real battle was not between Israel and the Philistines, but between the uncircumcised Philistine and the living God.
The Text
Now the Philistines gathered their camps for battle; and they were gathered at Socoh which belongs to Judah, and they camped between Socoh and Azekah, in Ephes-dammim. But Saul and the men of Israel were gathered and camped in the valley of Elah and arranged themselves for battle to meet the Philistines. Now the Philistines stood on the mountain on one side while Israel stood on the mountain on the other side, with the valley between them. Then a champion came out from the camps of the Philistines named Goliath, from Gath, whose height was six cubits and a span. And he had a bronze helmet on his head, and he was clothed with scale-armor, and the weight of that scale-armor was five thousand shekels of bronze. He also had bronze greaves on his legs and a bronze javelin slung between his shoulders. And the shaft of his spear was like a weaver’s beam, and the head of his spear weighed six hundred shekels of iron; his shield-carrier also walked before him. And he stood and called out to the battle lines of Israel and said to them, “Why do you come out to arrange yourselves for battle? Am I not the Philistine and you slaves of Saul? Choose a man for yourselves and let him come down to me. If he is able to fight with me and strike me down, then we will become your slaves; but if I prevail against him and strike him down, then you shall become our slaves and serve us.” Again the Philistine said, “I openly reproach the battle lines of Israel this day; give me a man that we may fight together.” When Saul and all Israel heard these words of the Philistine, they were dismayed and greatly afraid.
(1 Samuel 17:1-11 LSB)
The Staging Ground of Unbelief (vv. 1-3)
The first three verses set the stage, and it is a stage of human posturing and strategic paralysis.
"Now the Philistines gathered their camps for battle... But Saul and the men of Israel were gathered and camped in the valley of Elah and arranged themselves for battle... with the valley between them." (1 Samuel 17:1-3)
Notice the geography. Two armies, on two mountains, with a valley in between. They are arranged for battle, but no battle is happening. This is a picture of a cold war. It is a standoff. Both sides have their armor on, their swords sharpened, their battle lines drawn. They have the appearance of being ready for war, but they are frozen. This is a perfect image of much of the modern church. We have our theological systems, our conferences, our books on spiritual warfare. We are "arranged for battle." But when the enemy actually shows up and starts taunting us from the valley, we are content to stay on our mountain, looking formidable but doing nothing.
The Philistines are encroaching on Judah's territory. This is an invasion. The conflict is not optional. The enemy has brought the fight to them. And yet, Israel's response is to mirror the enemy's posture. They go to their mountain, the Philistines go to theirs, and they stare at each other across the valley. This is what happens when the church allows the world to set the terms of the engagement. We get stuck in a defensive crouch, perpetually reacting to the world's provocations instead of advancing the crown rights of Jesus Christ.
The World's Champion (vv. 4-7)
Into this stalemate walks the world's argument. He is the physical manifestation of paganism's trust in the arm of the flesh.
"Then a champion came out from the camps of the Philistines named Goliath, from Gath, whose height was six cubits and a span..." (1 Samuel 17:4)
The description of Goliath is not just for dramatic effect; it is a theological statement. He is from Gath, one of the old cities of the Anakim, the race of giants that had terrified the Israelite spies centuries before (Numbers 13:33). He is the boogeyman of Israel's past, come back to haunt them. His height, over nine feet tall, is just the beginning. The text gives us a detailed inventory of his armaments. A bronze helmet, scale-armor weighing 125 pounds, bronze greaves, a bronze javelin. The shaft of his spear was like a weaver's beam, and its iron head alone weighed 15 pounds. This is all meticulously recorded to make one point: from a human perspective, this man is invincible.
He is the product of a worldview that believes might makes right. He is the ultimate weapon. He is the pagan savior. The Philistines are not trusting in Dagon; they are trusting in Goliath. He is their god walking on the earth. This is what the world does. It creates systems, technologies, and personalities of overwhelming power and demands that we bow down to them. The world's argument is always an argument from intimidation.
And what is Israel's response? They had their own giant. Saul was chosen as king precisely because he looked the part. "He was taller than any of the people from his shoulders upward" (1 Sam. 10:23). When Goliath, the champion of the Philistines, comes out, Saul, the champion of Israel, should have been the one to meet him. This was his job description. But Saul had the height of a king without the heart of a king. He was a head taller than everyone else, but he was a coward. This is a picture of failed leadership. When leaders are chosen based on outward appearance and worldly metrics instead of godly character and faith, they will always fail when the real giants show up.
The Defiant Challenge (vv. 8-10)
Goliath's challenge is not merely a military proposal; it is a theological taunt. It is a blasphemous ultimatum.
"And he stood and called out to the battle lines of Israel and said to them, 'Why do you come out to arrange yourselves for battle? Am I not the Philistine and you slaves of Saul? Choose a man for yourselves and let him come down to me... I openly reproach the battle lines of Israel this day; give me a man that we may fight together.'" (1 Samuel 17:8, 10)
Goliath's proposal is one of single combat. Let one man from each side decide the fate of the nations. This sounds reasonable on the surface, but it is a trap. It is a proposal to change the rules of engagement. He is inviting Israel to set aside their trust in the God of armies and instead place their trust in one man. He wants them to fight on his terms, according to his materialistic worldview. "Let's you and him fight."
Notice his scorn. "Am I not the Philistine and you slaves of Saul?" He defines them by their merely human king. He doesn't say "slaves of Yahweh." He reduces the entire covenant conflict to a personal squabble between himself and Saul's chosen representative. This is what the world always does. It tries to secularize every conflict. It wants to pretend that God is not involved. It wants us to forget that we are the people of God and to think of ourselves merely as citizens of a secular state or members of a particular political party.
His final word is the key: "I openly reproach the battle lines of Israel this day." The word is "defy" in the King James. He is not just challenging their military prowess; he is insulting their honor, their identity, and their God. This is a public act of blasphemy. And the tragedy is that no one in Israel seems to recognize it as such. They hear it as a military threat, not as a spiritual abomination. Only David, when he arrives, will hear it correctly: "Who is this uncircumcised Philistine, that he should defy the armies of the living God?" (1 Sam. 17:26). David understood that the insult was not directed at Saul's army, but at God's army.
The Great Dismay (v. 11)
The final verse of our text gives us the pathetic result of Israel's unbelief. It is the inevitable consequence of accepting the enemy's premises.
"When Saul and all Israel heard these words of the Philistine, they were dismayed and greatly afraid." (1 Samuel 17:11)
Dismayed and greatly afraid. This is the spiritual condition of a people who have taken their eyes off God and fixed them on the giant. Their fear was a rational response, given their premises. If you believe that the battle is decided by the biggest man with the biggest sword, then you ought to be terrified of Goliath. Their fear was perfectly logical. The problem was not with their logic; the problem was with their foundational presupposition. They had forgotten God.
Fear is a form of worship. To fear a man is to attribute to him the power and authority that belong to God alone. Saul and Israel were functionally worshipping Goliath. They were ordering their lives, their emotions, and their actions around his power. They were letting him define their reality. And the result was paralysis. Fear never leads to faithful action. It leads to dismay, to a loss of heart, to a cowering retreat.
This is the choice that is set before the church in every generation. We will either fear God or we will fear the Goliaths of our age. There is no third option. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and it is the end of all other fears. When you fear the one who can cast both body and soul into hell, you are liberated from the fear of those who can only kill the body. But when you cease to fear God, you will begin to fear everything else. You will be afraid of giants, of governments, of cultural trends, of losing your reputation, of being cancelled. Your life will be a constant state of being "dismayed and greatly afraid."
Conclusion: Where is Our Champion?
This scene of two armies, paralyzed by fear, waiting for a champion, is a picture of the world under the curse of sin. The human race was held hostage by a giant far greater than Goliath. We were enslaved to Sin, Death, and the Devil. And like the armies of Israel, we were utterly helpless. We could not produce a champion who could defeat him. We were all dismayed and greatly afraid.
But God, in His mercy, provided a champion for us. His name is Jesus. He came into the valley of the shadow of death to meet our enemy. And He did not come with the world's armor. He came in the weakness of human flesh. He met the giant of sin and death not with a sword, but with a cross.
On that cross, it looked like the giant had won. The world taunted Him, just as Goliath taunted Israel. "He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Christ of God, his Chosen One!" (Luke 23:35). But in that moment of apparent defeat, our Champion was disarming the principalities and powers, triumphing over them in it (Col. 2:15). He took the full force of the curse, and by His death, He destroyed him who has the power of death, that is, the devil (Heb. 2:14).
The battle has already been won. Our Champion has crushed the serpent's head. The victory is secure. Why, then, do we so often live like the army of Israel, cowering on our mountain? Why are we so often dismayed and greatly afraid? It is because we listen to the taunts of the defeated foe. We look at the size of the opposition, we calculate the odds according to the flesh, and we forget the victory that has been won for us.
The call to the Christian is to live in the reality of Christ's victory. It is to look at the giants of our day, the Goliaths of secularism, paganism, and tyranny, and to see them for what they are: uncircumcised Philistines who are defying the armies of the living God. Our Champion has already won the war. Our task is simply to walk onto the field in His name and enforce the terms of His surrender.