The King's Amnesia and the Covenant Son Text: 1 Samuel 17:55-58
Introduction: The Politics of Forgetting
We come now to the aftermath of one of the most famous showdowns in all of history. The giant is dead, the Philistines are routed, and a shepherd boy is holding the grisly trophy of victory. The entire army of Israel, which had been cowering in their sandals just moments before, is now chasing after their enemies with a newfound, second-hand courage. And in the middle of all this, as the tide of redemptive history turns, we find a bizarre and perplexing conversation taking place in the royal tent. King Saul, the man who just sent David out to fight, the man for whom David had previously served as a court musician, turns to his general and asks, in effect, "Who is that kid?"
On the surface, this is a strange moment of royal amnesia. Commentators have twisted themselves into knots trying to explain this. Did Saul simply forget? Was he so distracted by the affairs of state? Had David grown a beard? Or is the text out of chronological order? While some of these might have a sliver of truth, they miss the forest for the trees. This is not about a simple memory lapse. This is about the politics of covenant succession. Saul's question is not one of mere information; it is a question loaded with fear, jealousy, and the dawning, dreadful realization that the kingdom is slipping through his fingers.
Saul is not just asking for a name. He is asking about a lineage, a pedigree, a claim. He sees a courage and a faith that he, the anointed king, does not possess. He sees the hand of God upon this young man, and it terrifies him because he knows the Spirit of God has departed from him. This is the moment the old guard is confronted with the new. It is the collision of two kingdoms: one built on the fear of man, and the other on the fear of God. Saul's question reveals the spiritual blindness that has overtaken him. He can see the boy, he can see the giant's head, but he cannot see the anointing. He cannot understand the source of this power because he has become disconnected from that source Himself.
What we are witnessing here is a pivotal moment in the unfolding drama of redemption. It is a lesson in how God raises up His chosen leaders, not from the halls of power, but from the sheepfolds of obscurity. And it is a profound picture of how the world, and even the compromised church, often fails to recognize God's anointed when He is standing right in front of them.
The Text
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." And the king said, "You inquire whose son the youth is." 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. And Saul said to him, "Whose son are you, young man?" And David answered, "I am the son of your servant Jesse the Bethlehemite."
(1 Samuel 17:55-58 LSB)
The Anxious King's Inquiry (v. 55-56)
We begin with Saul's pointed question as David walks out to meet his destiny.
"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.' And the king said, 'You inquire whose son the youth is.'" (1 Samuel 17:55-56)
Saul's question is repeated three times in this short passage. This is not idle curiosity. The repetition signals its central importance. Saul is not asking, "What's his name?" He had known David's name. David had been his harpist, his armor-bearer. Saul had sent messengers to Jesse (1 Sam. 16:19-22). The question is, "Whose son is this?" In the ancient world, this was a question about tribe, about clan, about standing, about inheritance, and about potential. It was a political question.
Why does he ask now? Because the stakes have just been raised to the heavens. Before, David was a talented musician who could soothe his tormented spirit. Now, David is a potential national hero, a giant-slayer, a contender. Saul had promised his own daughter and exemption from taxes to the man who defeated Goliath (1 Sam. 17:25). This shepherd boy is about to become his son-in-law. He is about to be grafted into the royal family. Saul, the paranoid and insecure king, needs to know everything about the family he is about to elevate. What kind of stock does this boy come from? Are they ambitious? Are they a threat?
But there is a deeper, spiritual reality at play. Saul is looking at David through purely carnal eyes. He sees a "youth," a "stripling." He is assessing David's family connections, his political capital. What he fails to see is what Samuel saw: the heart. God had already told Samuel, "Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature... for the LORD sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart" (1 Sam. 16:7). Saul is the epitome of the man who looks on the outward appearance. He was chosen because he was tall. He fought his battles with worldly wisdom. And now, confronted with a faith that defies all worldly calculation, he is utterly bewildered. He cannot compute what he is seeing.
Abner's reply is also telling. "By your life, O king, I do not know." Abner is the commander of the army. It is his job to know the men. But he, too, is blind. The entire leadership of Israel is spiritually obtuse. They are so consumed with their own fear and their own political maneuvering that they have no category for a young man who simply trusts God. They are like the religious leaders of Jesus' day who asked, "By what authority are you doing these things?" They could see the power, but they could not, or would not, recognize its divine source.
The Victorious Son's Presentation (v. 57)
The scene that follows is one of the most vivid in all of Scripture.
"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." (1 Samuel 17:57 LSB)
Picture the scene. This is not a sanitized, Sunday School image. This is raw and bloody. David, a youth not yet old enough to be a soldier, stands before the king. He is not polished or clean. He is likely covered in dust and blood. And in his hand, he holds the grotesque, dripping head of the enemy of God's people. This is a potent symbol. David is not just reporting a victory; he is presenting the evidence of it. He is presenting the head of the serpent.
This act is a powerful foreshadowing of the work of the greater David, Jesus Christ. Goliath is a type of Satan, the great enemy who defies the armies of the living God, who holds God's people in bondage through fear. He is the strong man, armed, guarding his own palace. But then a stronger one comes (Luke 11:21-22). Jesus, the Son of David, met our Goliath on the cross. He entered the enemy's territory and, through death, destroyed him who has the power of death, that is, the devil (Hebrews 2:14). And He did it with the enemy's own weapon. David used Goliath's own sword to cut off his head. Christ used death to defeat death. He took the very instrument of Satan's apparent victory and turned it into the means of his ultimate destruction.
When David brings the head of Goliath before Saul, he is demonstrating that the enemy has been decisively, publicly, and permanently defeated. This is what Christ did in His resurrection and ascension. He "disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in Him" (Colossians 2:15). The head is in His hand. The victory is total.
The Covenant Son's Identity (v. 58)
Saul repeats his question one last time, and David's answer is the key to the entire passage.
"And Saul said to him, 'Whose son are you, young man?' And David answered, 'I am the son of your servant Jesse the Bethlehemite.'" (1 Samuel 17:58 LSB)
Saul asks, "Whose son are you?" He is looking for a political identity. He is trying to place David on a map of human power structures. But David's answer, while simple and direct, is profoundly theological. He doesn't say, "I am David." He doesn't say, "I am the giant-slayer." He identifies himself by his father: "I am the son of your servant Jesse the Bethlehemite."
In this, David displays incredible humility. He is the hero of the hour, but he deflects the glory from himself and identifies with his humble origins. He is the son of Jesse, a farmer from the small, insignificant town of Bethlehem. He is not from a great, noble house. His strength does not come from his pedigree. This is a quiet rebuke to Saul's entire worldview. Saul is obsessed with status and power. David's identity is rooted in his family, his place, and his God.
But the mention of Bethlehem is a firecracker. Bethlehem was not just any town. It was the place prophesied to be the birthplace of the true King of Israel. Micah would later write, "But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah, who are too little to be among the clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler in Israel" (Micah 5:2). David's answer, whether he understood its full import or not, was pointing to the dawning of a new royal line, a line that would culminate in the Messiah.
When David says, "I am the son of your servant Jesse," he is declaring his covenant identity. He is not a self-made man. He is a son, operating under the authority and within the legacy of his father. This is precisely the identity of Christ. Jesus constantly said, "I only do what I see the Father doing" (John 5:19). He identified Himself not as an autonomous agent, but as the Son, sent from the Father. His authority came from His sonship. So it is with David. His victory was not his own; it was the Lord's. And his identity was not in his own accomplishments, but in his humble place within God's covenant plan, as the son of Jesse, from Bethlehem.
Conclusion: Recognizing the True King
This scene is a microcosm of a much larger spiritual battle. Saul represents the kingdom of man. It is impressive on the outside, tall and handsome, but inwardly it is fearful, jealous, and spiritually blind. It is constantly trying to assess people based on worldly metrics of power and influence. It is a kingdom that, when confronted with the true Anointed One, can only ask, "Who are you? Where are you from? By what authority?" It cannot recognize the work of God.
David represents the kingdom of God. It comes from humble beginnings, from a place of obscurity like Bethlehem. It does not rely on armor or swords or the approval of men. It relies on the name of the Lord of Hosts. It is a kingdom of faith, courage, and covenant identity. It is a kingdom that confronts the giants head-on and wins a decisive victory, not for its own glory, but for the glory of God.
The question Saul asks is the question the world still asks of the church and of Christ. "Whose son are you?" They want to know our pedigree. They want to know if we are credentialed by their institutions. They want to know if we are powerful by their standards.
And our answer must be the same as David's. We are not defined by our own accomplishments. We are sons and daughters of the Most High God, by grace. We are servants of the Lord Jesus Christ, the greater David, the true Son who came out of Bethlehem. Our identity is not in what we have done, but in whose we are. We are children of the King. And it is in that identity, and that identity alone, that we find the courage to face the giants in our own land. We do not go in our own strength, but in the name of the One who has already crushed the serpent's head, and who holds the victory in His hand.