As Jesus hung on the cross there would be no last second escape. No Greek goddess would swoop in to rescue him. He suffered alone. And yet even in that suffering he declared his victory on the spiritual battlefield to be your victory.
The glory of victory on the battlefield can fade so quickly.
Two great armies stood opposed to one another. Heroes on both sides rested their tired bodies. They were sore from the battle. Even more tiring was the thought that the war was far from over. Sunlight glistened off bronze shields and sharp spear tips. Men lifted their helmets off their heads. The battlefield was starting to fall silent.
Then a shout echoed across the field. One warrior cried out a challenge to the enemy army. It would be a legendary agreement. He declared that the armies should stop this bloody battle with a final one-on-one combat. All the enemy had to do was find a warrior worthy of the duel. The winner would take the entire victory and the spoils of war. The loser would be enslaved and lose everything.
Everyone silently looked around. Would anyone step forward? Which individual would put the fate of the entire war on his shoulders?
On one side stood a fierce warrior. He clanked forward in his bronze armor, walking into the space between the armies. He was fierce, one of the best fighters on the battlefield. Like a lion slowly stalking its prey, he smiled at the opportunity to do what he did best — fight and win.
On the other side stood a young man, younger than most others on the battlefield. He didn’t know much about war. He hadn’t won any major battles. He didn’t even possess his own armor. He had to borrow some, but it didn’t fit very well. And it all made sense. His older brothers were the warriors in his family. Meanwhile, this young man had spent most of his youth raising sheep far away from war. He was more adept with a musical instrument than he was with a spear or sword.
But the battle cry had sounded forth. Ready or not, the entire war would be decided by the winner of this very one-sided duel. The great warrior stepped forward, almost laughing with delight at his certain victory. The young man took his weapon, looked at his terrifying enemy, and hurled it with all of his force. The throw was true. The shot sped through the air with deadly accuracy.
Then, it clanged harmlessly off the warrior’s shield. The fierce soldier moved forward. Taking his spear, he threw it with even greater force. His aim was also true, and his spear ripped through the young man’s shield, his armor and tore his garment underneath. The young man should have died, but a last-second twist of his body allowed him to avoid the worst of the spear.
Before the young man could get up, his enemy grabbed him by the helmet, dragging him back to his enemy lines to kill him. As the spear is about to strike him and kill him, the young man is whisked away from the battlefield. He is saved at the last second by Aphrodite.
The hand-to-hand combat was a draw. The Trojan War would continue. And Paris, the young man who was about to die, could be thankful that the goddess rescued him from the hands of his enemy, the warrior Menelaus.
The glory of victory on the battlefield can fade so quickly.
It sounds familiar, doesn't it? The young man might as well have been the shepherd boy, David. The fierce warrior stalking him sounds a lot like Goliath. And the comparisons don’t stop there. Goliath stood where Menelaus stood, in the middle of the spears of the battlefield, just like a Homeric hero. He possessed all the important bronze armor. He stood above every other soldier. He was a trained killer. He had never known anything else but glory on the battlefield. And just like in a Homeric epic, Goliath sounds forth the agreement of single combat to decide the fate of a war.
No wonder there wasn’t a single Israelite soldier willing to fight him. Who would want the weight of an entire army resting on their shoulders? Who would want to walk into certain death?
The battle between the young Paris and the fierce Menelaus takes place toward the beginning of the Iliad. The disagreement between the two men cut to the very reasons behind the Trojan War. Do you know how it all started? Paris, the Trojan prince, had taken the most beautiful woman in the world, Helen, to be his own. The problem was that Helen was already the wife of the Greek warrior Menelaus. So Menelaus and a thousand Greek ships sailed for Troy to destroy the city and snatch his wife out of the hands of Paris and the Trojans.
In 1 Samuel 17, Goliath had no personal vendetta against the people of Israel. He simply wanted the glory of victory. But no one was willing to step out and fight him for it. The Valley of Elah was an epic battlefield awaiting an epic hero.
Do you feel like you could be that hero? Sometimes we do. There are days when we feel as though we have to be the hero of our own epic lives because no one else seems to be stepping up. In the face of the Goliath of illness, we step out onto the battlefield ready to fight the war all on our own. Hearing the cries of those who oppose the Word of God, we feel we must personally right the wrongs using our own strength. When the fierce warriors of pain, suffering, loss, and temptation beckon us to fight, we step out all alone, trusting ourselves. We stand ready to fight for personal control under our own strength.
But perhaps fighting those enemies is a young person’s game. You can only lose so many of those battles before you feel like the Israelite soldiers along the Valley of Elah. You hear the call to fight, and you cower in fear. Who has the energy to fight against every temptation? Who has the strength to stand up against enemies that look so fierce?
Everything about this looks so very epic. But that’s the problem. Epic wars can make for great stories, and epic heroes can look for glory. But in the end, the glory of victory on the battlefield can fade so quickly.
It certainly did for Paris. After taking Helen for himself, after fighting his sworn enemy, Menelaus, he holed up behind the Trojan walls. Eventually, he and his Trojan people lost the war. Their city was destroyed. Paris was killed. Menelaus escorted Helen back home.
The glory of victory faded for Menelaus. A fierce storm struck his ships on the way home from Troy. For years, he was stranded in Egypt, far away from his home.
How could such a Homeric-looking battle in 1 Samuel 17 end any differently? The fierce warrior Goliath stood waiting for an Israelite to battle. At first, no one came. Then a shepherd boy stepped out. He was the youngest of his family. He hadn’t trained as a soldier. He was a shepherd. He didn’t have armor, a sword, or a spear. All he had was a sling…and the Lord.
As David walks out into the battlefield between the armies, he addresses Goliath with a decidedly un-epic proclamation. “You come against me with a sword, with a spear, and with a javelin, but I come against you in the name of the Lord of Armies, the God of the ranks of Israel, whom you have defied” (1 Sam. 17:45).
What a difference! David makes no deals with God. He doesn’t trust in his arm or fixate on his weapon. He completely looks to the living God. True lasting victory could only come through the God who saves.
Taking a stone, David slung it and struck the Philistine warrior in the one place that could knock him down. Rushing up to him, he took Goliath’s sword and cut off his head with it. It all happens so quickly, we are left wanting more. Homer would have let the battle last for pages. But God focuses on what matters most — his salvation, even in the face of overwhelming odds.
The glory of victory on the battlefield can fade so quickly. But this wasn’t a victory for human glory. David’s victory in the Valley of Elah was really God’s victory.
A thousand years later, an even more astounding victory was won. The Good Shepherd looked weaker even than a shepherd boy. He faced off against enemies stronger than any Goliath. No weapon was needed to win this victory, only an instrument of death. Who would want the fate of an entire world resting on their shoulders? Who would want to walk into certain death? Only Jesus.
As Jesus hung on the cross, there would be no last-second escape. No Greek goddess would swoop in to rescue him. He suffered alone. And yet even in that suffering, he declared his victory on the spiritual battlefield to be your victory. That means that sin, death, and the devil stand defeated.
Your Lord loves you to such an extent that he gave his life for you. Now he lives for you. In your weakness, he remains your strength. You still may find yourself struggling on life’s battlefields, facing off against the fierce-looking enemies of sadness, pain, loss, and temptation. Take heart, you don’t need to fight against these enemies alone! They stand defeated at the cross already. And your loving God will not abandon you. He will lift you up under their weight. He equips you with his powerful word, against which even Satan cannot stand.
This is God’s upside down epic. He remains your unfading hero. And you will remain his forever in glory everlasting.
