Commentary - 1 Samuel 17:55-58

Bird's-eye view

This brief exchange at the conclusion of the great battle with Goliath is thick with dramatic and covenantal irony. On the surface, King Saul's question about David's parentage seems absurd. David has been in his court, playing the harp to soothe the king's tormented spirit. But Saul's ignorance is not a simple lapse of memory; it is a spiritual and political blindness. He sees the victory, he sees the boy with the giant's head, but he does not see the hand of God anointing a successor. The question, "Whose son is this young man?" is the central question of the entire narrative arc. Saul is asking about earthly lineage, but God is answering with the foundation of a heavenly one. This moment marks the formal, public beginning of the transfer of the kingdom from the house of Saul, which was chosen for its external appearance, to the house of David, which was chosen because God looks on the heart. Saul is looking for a son-in-law and a military asset; God is presenting His anointed king.

David's simple, humble answer, "I am the son of your servant Jesse the Bethlehemite," is also freighted with meaning. He doesn't puff out his chest and claim his victory. He identifies himself by his father, a man of no great political standing, from a town of no great importance. But for those with ears to hear, the mention of Bethlehem points back to the prophecies of old. This is not just any boy; this is the one God has provided for Himself. The scene is a formal presentation: Abner, the commander, brings the victorious David before the failing king. The head of the Philistine is a gruesome trophy, a visible sign that God's covenant promises are still in effect, but they are now flowing through a new channel.

Outline

Context In 1 Samuel

This passage immediately follows David's stunning victory over Goliath, a victory that routed the entire Philistine army. This event is the hinge point in the book of 1 Samuel. Up to this point, Saul has been the central figure, a king chosen by the people and then rejected by God for his disobedience (1 Sam 15). The Spirit of the Lord has departed from Saul and come upon David (1 Sam 16:13-14). David has been secretly anointed by Samuel and has already served in Saul's court as a musician. The confrontation in the valley of Elah is David's public debut as God's true champion. This scene, therefore, is not an introduction but an interrogation. It sets the stage for the subsequent conflict between Saul and David. Saul's question about David's identity reveals the jealousy and suspicion that will consume him, while David's victory and humble demeanor will win him the hearts of the people, including Saul's own son, Jonathan (1 Sam 18:1-4).

Key Issues

A King's Amnesia

Commentators have sometimes puzzled over Saul's question. How could he not know David? David had been his personal musician, his armor-bearer (1 Sam 16:21). But to read this as a simple memory failure is to miss the point entirely. Saul's question is not about facial recognition. It is a political and dynastic question. He is not asking, "What is that boy's name?" He is asking, "What is his stock? What is his family? Who is his father?"

Remember the terms of the challenge: the victor would win great riches, the king's daughter in marriage, and his father's house would be made free in Israel (1 Sam 17:25). Saul is now obligated to bring this family into the highest echelons of the kingdom. His question is that of a king suddenly realizing that the promises he made in a moment of desperation are now due to a complete unknown. It is the question of a man whose world has just been turned upside down. He is looking at the boy who has done what he, the head-and-shoulders-taller king, was too cowardly to do. This is not forgetfulness; it is the dawn of a terrifying recognition. The Spirit that had departed from him was clearly with this boy, and Saul's question is saturated with the dread of what that means for his own house and his own future.

Verse by Verse Commentary

55 Now when Saul saw David going out to meet the Philistine, he said to Abner the commander of the army, “Abner, whose son is this young man?” And Abner said, “By your life, O king, I do not know.”

Saul watches the drama unfold from a distance. As David, this slip of a boy, walks toward the nine-foot pagan, the king's mind is not on the immediate battle but on the consequences of it. He turns to his top general, Abner, and asks the crucial question. It is a question of pedigree. Kingship in the ancient world was about bloodlines and dynasties. Saul is the king, and his son Jonathan is the heir. But if this boy wins, a new family is about to become very important. Abner's reply, "By your life, O king, I do not know," is also likely a bit of shrewd political maneuvering. Abner certainly knew who David was; David's brothers were in the army. But in a court as volatile as Saul's, ignorance is often the safest position. Admitting to knowing the lineage of a potential rival could be a fatal misstep. Abner is a survivor, and he is playing it safe. He defers entirely to the king.

56 And the king said, “You inquire whose son the youth is.”

Saul is insistent. This is not a casual inquiry. He commands Abner to find out. The word is youth, emphasizing David's apparent disqualification for the task. Saul, the man chosen for his impressive stature, is fixated on the lineage of the boy who has just rendered all such external qualifications meaningless. Saul is operating according to the flesh, by the standards of the world. He wants to know the boy's earthly father, but the real story is about David's heavenly Father. God is orchestrating this entire affair to show that He does not save by the might of men, but by His own sovereign choice.

57 So when David returned from striking down the Philistine, Abner took him and brought him before Saul with the Philistine’s head in his hand.

The scene is stark and potent. David, fresh from the victory, is formally presented to the king. He is not empty-handed. He holds the severed head of Goliath. This is the evidence, the bloody proof of God's deliverance. It is a raw, visceral image. The head of the uncircumcised Philistine is a symbol of the defeated enemies of God. It is a promise of what God will do for His people through His chosen king. David comes not just as a victor, but as a savior. He has taken away the reproach from Israel. This act of bringing the head before the king is both an act of loyal submission and an unintentional indictment. David is bringing Saul the victory that Saul himself should have won.

58 And Saul said to him, “Whose son are you, young man?” And David answered, “I am the son of your servant Jesse the Bethlehemite.”

Saul repeats the question, this time directly to David. "Whose son are you?" It is the question of a threatened man. David's answer is a model of humility and propriety. He does not say, "I am David, the giant-killer." He does not claim any glory for himself. He identifies himself through his father: "I am the son of your servant Jesse the Bethlehemite." He acknowledges his father's subservient status to the king, and by extension his own. He is a loyal subject. But in naming his father and his town, he is, by divine providence, announcing the fulfillment of God's plan. He is the son of Jesse, the one Samuel was sent to find. He is from Bethlehem, the future birthplace of his own greater Son. David's humble answer is the covenantal answer. Saul asked a political question, and God gave him a redemptive-historical answer.

Application

This passage forces us to confront the difference between God's standards and man's standards. Saul was the king everyone wanted. He looked the part. He was tall, handsome, and from a good family. But his heart was not right with God. David was the king no one expected. He was a youth, a shepherd, the youngest of his brothers. But God saw his heart, a heart of faith that trusted in the living God.

We are constantly tempted to evaluate ourselves and others by Saul's standards. We look at outward appearance, at resumes, at pedigrees, at worldly success. We ask, "Whose son is he?" meaning, "What are his qualifications? What is his platform?" But God is looking at the heart. He is looking for faith, for the kind of trust that runs toward the giant, armed only with a sling and the name of the Lord of hosts.

Furthermore, Saul's spiritual blindness is a warning to all who hold positions of leadership. It is possible to be in the very center of God's activity and miss what He is doing entirely. Saul saw a military victory, but he was blind to the spiritual sea change that was happening right before his eyes. He was so consumed with protecting his own position that he could not rejoice in God's deliverance. We must pray for eyes to see where God is at work, even and especially when His work threatens our own comfort, our own status, or our own plans. The central question is never, "Whose son are you?" but rather, "Are you a son of the Father through faith in the greater David, the Lord Jesus Christ?" For He is the true giant-slayer, who met our enemy not with a stone, but with a cross, and who holds in his hand not the head of Goliath, but the keys of death and Hell.