A fresh-faced David stands in the Valley of Elah and declares he’ll do what Israel’s most skilled fighters aren’t daring enough to do—the shepherd will fight the giant who has been tormenting the nation the last 40 days and nights. With fear spread throughout the camp like wildfire, it doesn’t take long before Saul, the people’s first king, brings the bold shepherd boy into his presence to hear the promise for himself. Saul is understandably apprehensive—this starry-eyed kid is about to face a Philistine who’s likely been fighting for as long as David has been alive, if not longer.

Yet, David couldn’t be deterred by anyone or anything. Jesse’s seventh son has unshakable faith that the same God who rescued him before from lions and bears will rescue him from this loud-mouth, foul-hearted pagan who has been defying his God. Submitting to David’s determination, Saul sends him out with a heartfelt prayer and wishes—go fight Goliath, and the Lord be with you. With little else to provide in this situation, Saul equips David as best as he can and offers his armour. But the armour doesn’t fit so David takes it off, sets it aside and goes to face Goliath with some simple yet significant weapons.

Saul’s glory is often specified as motivation for gifting David his armour. If David were to defy the odds and do the impossible, it could be perceived by the people that Saul played a part in the success. After all, he armoured up and endorsed the unlikely hero. However, this may not have been his only or main motivation.

Saul is afraid of Goliath and is assured that despite his appointment as king, anointing from God and his own physical advantages, he can’t beat the giant himself. Saul’s unwillingness to stand face to face with Goliath even after 40 days of deliberation, alongside the price he put on the giant’s death says so. He had promised wealth, a wife and a whole family’s tax exemption for the one who would kill Goliath (1 Samuel 17:25). So, considering all that, did Saul honestly believe some shepherd boy was going to overcome Goliath and gift him a hand of glory after doing so?

As I meditated upon this scripture more, I wondered if Saul’s offering was a token gesture to a doomed warrior. Could it be that Saul saw this as a noble gesture ahead of what he assumed would be David’s death? What else could Saul have done for this ambitious, bold and unwavering teenager who couldn’t be shaken from wanting to win for his people and God? Is there a chance Saul once thought about after David dies and the Philistines attack the Israelites, would Jesse ever be able to retrieve the boy’s body for burial or would David be left to rot on the battlefield after the nation becomes enslaved?

Saul’s motivations might never be truly known to us. Yet, there are more things that Saul’s armour can minister to us about beyond the surface sentiment of redirection of glory and recognition. Armour at its core is all about protection, preservation and precision: Saul’s offer of his armour and David’s subsequent rejection speaks loudly about our identity, preparation, strategy and more.

Saul’s armour symbolises one of the greatest battles we continually face as children of God—choosing to trust in who our Father created us to be or conforming to a construct from the world. Saul’s armour didn’t fit David literally or metaphorically. 1 Samuel 10:23 says Saul stood a head above all those around him at the time of his public anointment, inferring that he was physically bigger than most and likely David too. It’s very plausible that the armour was too big, too distinct from David’s body composition alongside being too unfamiliar. So often, we try to wear identities that aren’t meant for us.

How can you be protected when wearing a helmet that is too big for your head or a breastplate that’s sticking into your body because it’s too small? The armour may be royal, but if it’s not yours, it’s a restraint.  It may be impressive, but if it’s not yours, it’s ineffective. Adopting Saul’s armour is adopting the wrong identity which will lead you to the wrong influence—and it’s often less than what God intended.

As he offered his armour, Saul whether he was aware or not in the moment, admitted that he couldn’t fulfil the role he was appointed by God. (His inability was rooted in disobedience, insecurity, and rejection of God—not in God making a mistake when selecting him.) A few decades ahead of David’s slingshot showdown, Israel had rejected God’s kingship and requested a king: they wanted a king like all their neighbouring nations who would lead them out into battles and fight for them (1 Samuel 8:19-20). Yet, the king so many rejoiced over after Saul was introduced by Samuel as God’s anointed, so simply handed over his royal responsibilities to a stranger.

A couple of chapters earlier marked Saul’s spiritual and leadership decline, opening the space for a shepherd boy to arise. At the hill of Gilgal, God rejected Saul as king and declared the kingdom would be given to someone else—a man after His own heart because of Saul’s rebellion against Him (1 Samuel 13:14). Goliath became David’s battle after Saul proved himself incapable of fulfilling the divine purpose placed on his life. Saul’s armour shows that God will often raise up someone else to accomplish His will when a leader abdicates their responsibility. Stories of Deborah, Barak and Jael alongside Mordecai and Esther strongly affirm this principle.

A military leader of Israel, Barak was summoned by Deborah, a judge and prophetess of Israel, to lead an army of 10,000 men from Naphtali and Zebulun to Mount Tabor against Sisera’s army. As Barak hesitates at the thought of going without Deborah, she promises the victory will not be his but a woman’s, who we learn is Jael (Judges 4:6-9). Further, we see in the namesake book, Mordecai challenges Esther to use her position of prominence and proximity as queen, to approach King Xerxes about Haman’s edict to kill all the Jews. He promises her that God’s plan for the deliverance of His people will not be thwarted by her, and He will promote relief from another place, but Esther and her family will be ruined in her renunciation (Esther 4:14).

Saul saw his armour as something of value for David because that’s how he fought—his strategy depended on strength and steel. He, much like Goliath who was armed with extraordinary might, succeeded in battles through self-strength and swords. (As Saul showcases self-reliance, he also showcases the opposite—fear because of human sufficiency.) Yet, they weren’t a part of David’s plan for defeat.

Standing at six cubits and one span, Goliath was geared up with a sword, spear and javelin but David never planned on fighting a combative and physical fight. The source of strength for a dauntless David was the Lord of the armies of Israel. His plan to take down the Philistine involved taking what God had previously placed in his surrendered hand.

Saul’s armour being shaken off for a staff, shepherd bag, sling and some smooth stones affirms that the most significant victories aren’t achieved through human strength but by being surrendered to God’s power. Further, it shows that God doesn’t equip us to win battles by borrowing someone else’s strategy—He empowers us according to our unique purposes.

And because our purposes are unique so too is our preparation for battles. Crafted for prominence, Saul’s armour was designed for a prestigious king and forged by Israel’s finest craftsmen. Saul’s armour symbolises a public, palpable and predictable preparation. David’s preparation was private to everyone but him and God—he was intentionally shaped in obscurity.

While tending his father’s flock in solitude, David faithfully faced bears and lions, sharpening his physical skills and dependence on God. All these hidden moments made for a special spiritual training environment that equipped him for not only this physical battle but many, many more. Sometimes, the greatest protection and power for our battles—physical or spiritual—is simply preparation.

David’s devotion in his hidden season ensured he was ready for his moment of significance. God had prepared him to slay the giant—not with someone else’s armour, but with a strategy, sight, and strength from the Lord Himself. And when victory came, David was prepared to also angle all glory back to the One to whom it always belonged: God.

Saul’s armour is ultimately a test—a test of whether you will trust the Lord: and who He has called you to be, in what He has placed in your hand, in what He has been preparing you for, and in His strength and solutions rather than the world’s or someone else’s. God calls the available much more than the armoured because He’s our shield and victory.

If it doesn’t get you killed, Saul’s armour will at least stop you from slaying giants—wearing someone else’s armour will suffocate your calling more than it sustains your body. Because what’s meant to protect you can end up preventing you: what’s designed to help becomes a hindrance when it isn’t from God. So, if someone hands you Saul’s armour, take it off. Then run toward the giant—and show the world what God can do with trust, stones, and a slingshot.