In a sermon years ago, Matt Chandler now famously said (or obnoxiously yelled), “You’re not David!” “The Bible is not about you!” Since then, these phrases, or at least their sentiment, have been repeated ad nauseam in Christianity, especially by those ostensibly conservative or reformed. While we cannot discern the heart motives of such speech, we can certainly judge the speech itself, not by asking if it is helpful or catchy, but much more importantly: Is it true?
Am I David?
So are these statements true? Well, yes. And no. The Bible is, of course, God’s Word, His special revelation of Himself to mankind. From it’s pages we learn that God is the Creator, Sustainer, Savior, and Lord. We see His love, grace, and sovereign control of all things. As the Apostle Paul said, “For in him we live, and move, and have our being” (Acts 17:28). So, of course, the Bible is not about us, but rather the glorious triune God. In this sense, we are not David. We are not the hero of our story, a point Chandler rightly made. We cannot defeat Goliath in our strength. We must instead look to the greater David, Jesus Christ, who alone defeats the giants and conquers sin, death, and Hell for His people.
Yet, in knowing this, we immediately realize something else: The Bible actually is about me. Not entirely, of course, but truly nonetheless. For I am lost. I am the one in need of saving. I actually am David, facing an enemy so large that my only hope is Christ. I am a totally depraved sinner in need of sovereign grace, as David also was. The prophet Nathan would later say to him, “Thou art the man” (2 Sam. 12:7).
I, too, am the man. I, too, am David.
David and Goliath
In turning to David and Goliath, the account Chandler was referencing, we find many remarkable traits in young David, ones to which all men should aspire. For starters, we see David, the faithful and humble shepherd, who even after being anointed the next king of Israel, continues to tend his father’s sheep (I Sam. 16:19, 17:15). It was obedience to his father that led David to this battlefield in the first place (I Sam. 17:17-20). Now we could say it was humility and obedience to His Father that led Jesus to the battlefield of our sin, and we would be right. After all, I am not David, and the Bible is not about me. Yet David was a real man who faced real evil and fought real battles. I am also a man in the midst of conflict and war. For the Bible is about me too.
Upon hearing Goliath’s blasphemous taunts, David is rightly angered and asks, “Who is this uncircumcised Philistine, that he should defy the armies of the living God?” (I Sam. 17:26). Later as he faces the giant head-on, David proclaims:
“Thou comest to me with a sword, and with a spear, and with a shield: but I come to thee in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom thou hast defied. This day will the Lord deliver thee into mine hand; and I will smite thee, and take thine head from thee; and I will give the carcases of the host of the Philistines this day unto the fowls of the air, and to the wild beasts of the earth; that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel. And all this assembly shall know that the Lord saveth not with sword and spear: for the battle is the Lord‘s, and he will give you into our hands” (I Sam. 17:45-47).
David trusted God in fighting Goliath. As much as anyone in Scripture, he understood the battle indeed belongs to the Lord. It’s as if David himself believed that not even he was David. His story was another’s. This battle was not his. Yet Goliath was very much real, and someone had to fight him. Since no one else would, it might as well be him. David was, after all, David. The faithful shepherd. The future king. The man after God’s own heart.
David and Eliab
Unfortunately, not everyone felt as David did. Like many throughout time, his harshest critic was perhaps least expected. In this case, his own brother. We read:
“And Eliab his eldest brother heard when he spake unto the men; and Eliab’s anger was kindled against David, and he said, Why camest thou down hither? and with whom hast thou left those few sheep in the wilderness? I know thy pride, and the naughtiness of thine heart; for thou art come down that thou mightest see the battle” (I Sam. 17:28).
Before the enemy mocks David (I Sam. 17:42-44), his brother does. His ridicule contains all the usual elements – belittling questions, accusations of pride, and the air of superiority. You can almost hear him shout, “You’re not David!” Somewhat taken aback, David responds by asking, “What have I now done? Is there not a cause?” (I Sam. 17:29). He is probably wondering why his brother, a soldier of Israel, is upset at him when there is a giant ahead. An enemy of God’s people. A just cause.
Is There a Cause?
This question is undoubtedly on the minds of many Christians today. When they see globalism increase at the expense of their people, they wonder, “Is there not a cause?” When they look to what is supposedly “The church of the living God, the pillar and ground of the truth” (I Tim. 3:15), and find Covid cowardice, social justice, and liberal drift, they ask more earnestly, “Is there not a cause?” When they see homosexuals on their television, drag queens at their library, and pedophiles in their government, they no longer ask, but know there is a cause, and it is just.
Yet for all this, they hear their pastor, the same man who put a black square on Facebook and wore a mask while singing, repeatedly say in various ways, “You’re not David!” And they wonder if maybe they are wrong. They know evil is there, but aren’t we supposed to pray for our enemies? Their world is spinning, but don’t you know a better world is drawing near? And by the way, why are you not more focused on the Gospel? Somewhat dejectedly, they surrender. Though it feels hollow, they sign up for the church trunk or treat. They put their sling down and stones away. After all, they are not David.
David or Eliab
For some, this is a disappointment. For others a relief. Like Eliab, they are far more angry at potential Davids than obvious Goliaths. For whatever reason, they seem unconcerned by the descent into chaos and the slide toward Gomorrah. “You’re not David!” is music to their ears. “The Old Testament and its heroes do not apply to you!” is what they hoped you would say. For heroes die. Or fail. And David fought a giant. Alone. With only God to help. Eliab simply looked on. Safely from afar. Not willing to put his own countenance or stature on the line (I Sam. 16:6-7).
We thank our Lord Jesus Christ that He is the fullest and truest David. We praise Him for David’s victory over Goliath. We trust Goliaths can still fall today. Maybe a good place to start is the Church. Where a man (or woman), stands at a pulpit (or tiny table), in a suit and tie (or untucked shirt and skinny jeans), and declares, “You’re not David!” “You’re the people hiding in their tents!” Why he says this we cannot say. Is it sound exegesis after hours of study? Doubtful. Is he just a wimp? Likely. Regardless, it might be time to find a sling and some stones.
Pastors like Chandler do not want to be David. Like Eliab, they enjoy their stature and prefer not to risk it. Because they refuse to play the man, they wish to emasculate those who would. They hope if you hear something long enough, you will start to believe it. If they say you are not David, then maybe you won’t be. What they need is more Eliabs.
What Christ wants is more Davids. Davids who trust the greater David. Davids who know, “By the grace of God I am what I am” (I Cor. 15:10). Davids with the stones to slay giants.
