Charles Ellicott Commentary 1 Samuel 17

Now the Philistines gathered together their armies to battle. —There is nothing to tell us how long a time had elapsed since the victory of Saul over Amalek and the other events related in the last chapter. The compiler of the book is from this point on mainly concerned with the story of David, and how he gradually rose in popular estimation. The history does not claim to give anything like a consecutive account of the reign and wars of Saul.

It was evidently compiled from documents of the time, but put into its present shape long afterwards. “Probably,” writes Dean Payne Smith, “at each prophetic school there would be stored up copies of Psalms written for their religious services, ballads such as those in the Book of Jashar, and in the book of the wars of the Lord, narratives of stirring events like this before us, and histories both of their own chiefs, such as Samuel (the original founder of these famous educational centres), and afterwards Elijah and Elisha, and also of their kings.”

Pitched between Shochoh and Azekah. —The locality was some twelve or fifteen miles southwest of Jerusalem, and nine or ten from Bethlehem, the home of the family of Jesse. The name Ephes-dammim, the “boundary of blood,” is suggestive, and tells of the constant border warfare which took place in this neighbourhood.

And the Philistines stood... — Conder, in his Tent Work in Palestine, writing on the spot, gives us a vivid picture of the scene of the well-known encounter between David and the giant Philistine: “We may picture to ourselves the two hosts covering the low rocky hills opposite to each other, and half hidden among the lentisk bushes. Between them was the rich expanse of the ripening barley, and the red banks of the torrent, with its white shingly bed. Behind all were the distant blue hill-walls of Judah, from where Saul had just come down.

“The mail-clad warrior advanced from the west through the low corn, with his mighty lance perhaps tufted with feathers, his brazen helmet shining in the sun. From the east a ruddy boy in his white shirt and sandals, armed with a goat’s-hair sling, came down to the brook, and, according to the poetic fancy of the Rabbis, the pebbles were given voices, and cried, ‘By us you will overcome the giant!’ The champion fell from an unseen cause, and the wild Philistines fled to the mouth of the valley, where Gath stood towering on its white chalk cliff, a frontier fortress, the key to the high road leading to the corn-lands of Judah and to the vineyards of Hebron.”

Goliath, of Gath. — The Philistine champion belonged to a race or family of giants, the remnant of the sons of Anak , who still lived in Gath and Gaza and Ashdod. The height mentioned was about nine feet two inches. We have in history a few instances of similar giants. This valiant champion was “full of savage insolence, unable to understand how any one could contend against his brute strength and impregnable panoply; the very type of the stupid ‘Philistine,’ such as has, in the language of modern Germany, not inappropriately identified the name with the opponents of light and freedom and growth.” — Stanley.

A coat of mail. —More accurately, breastplate of scales.

This armour has sometimes been understood as “chain armour,” but it is more probable that the Philistine armour was made of metal scales, like those of a fish, whose defensive coat was, no doubt, imitated at a very early date by this warlike race, who dwelt on the seashore, and whose life and worship were so closely connected with the great sea. This coat of mail, or corselet, was flexible, and covered the back and sides of the wearer. The weight of the different pieces of the giant’s panoply largely exceeds the weight of medieval suits of armour.

Am I not a Philistine? —The literal rendering here provides a much stronger reading: Am I not the Philistine?—the famous warrior whom you know all too well? The Targum of Jonathan adds here the proud boast of the giant warrior that it was he who had slain Hophni and Phinehas (the sons of Eli, the high priest) and had carried the Ark to the temple of Dagon. This Targum, although a comparatively late compilation, undoubtedly embodied many ancient national traditions.

And you servants of Saul. —Thus taunting the soldiers of Israel with the memory of their king's former glory. Will none of the famous servants of the warrior king dare to meet me?

Should we not consider it probable that the prophet's separation from the king had become public knowledge in Philistia, and that this present daring challenge stemmed from their awareness that the Spirit of the Lord—whom we know these enemies of the Hebrews regarded with such great dread—had departed from Saul and his armies?

Then will we be your servants. —Each of the positions which the two opposing armies held was nearly impregnable; thus, it seemed as if a single combat was the only way of deciding the present campaign: moreover, in those ancient times, such single combats between renowned chieftains of the opposing armies were by no means uncommon. The reader of the Iliad will always readily recall—in dialogues before the deadly duel—words not entirely unlike the haughty, boastful challenge of the giant Philistine. See, for instance, the speeches of Glaucus and Diomede in Book VI of the Iliad: “Come here,” says Glaucus, “that you may quickly reach the goal of death.”