Opinion: We Think We’re David, But We’re More Like Goliath

When we open our Bibles and read the story of David and Goliath, most of us instinctively find ourselves rooting for—and identifying with—the shepherd boy. David is the underdog, small in stature but mighty in faith. He represents courage, trust, and God’s ability to use the weak to humble the strong. It’s an easy and comforting comparison. But if we’re honest, we’re rarely David. More often, we’re Goliath.

We live in a culture that prizes confidence, self-sufficiency, and victory. We measure worth by success, by the size of our “armor,” and by how loudly we can shout down our opponents. We trust in our resources, our intelligence, our institutions—our own strength. That’s the heart of Goliath’s sin: not simply his arrogance, but his absolute faith in himself.

In 1 Samuel 17, Goliath stands tall, clad in bronze and muscle, taunting those who might challenge him. David, by contrast, stands with little more than a sling, five stones, and his trust in God. When we read that story, we cheer for David because we want to believe faith will overcome the forces that seem too great for us. But in our daily lives—especially in moments of power, comfort, or pride—we often resemble the giant who cannot imagine losing.

It’s a humbling realization.

We identify with David when we’re facing a challenge—a diagnosis, a loss, a broken relationship. In those moments, we feel small and outmatched. But when life is good and we stand tall and sure, we can forget the God who gave us breath. Like Goliath, we mistake comfort for control.

This isn’t to shame us; it’s to invite reflection. The gospel always turns the mirror toward us. The challenge for those of us who have plenty, who live with relative safety and strength, is to remember that faith calls us not to play the giant, but to walk humbly with God.

Jesus, too, came not as a conqueror in armor, but as a carpenter’s son with empty hands and a servant’s heart. He sided with the weak, the overlooked, and the broken—not because they were more righteous, but because they knew their need for God.

So perhaps the invitation for us today is to see the Goliath within ourselves—to name our pride, our certainty, our illusion of invincibility—and to lay it down. To stand again, small and dependent, like David, trusting not in what we can do, but in what God can do through us.

Because in the end, faith isn’t about winning battles. It’s about remembering who truly holds the victory.