1 Samuel 17:32-49
Are you wearing someone else’s armor?
And if you are, we’ve got a problem!
Wearing someone else’s armor never works.
At the heart of every psychological theory: we’ve all been given lots of armor - given to us by parents, grandparents, teachers and preachers … culture and country.
It’s nice armor … bright and shiny, mostly … maybe a few dents here and there, a little tarnished perhaps, but it’s wearable … and it’s given to us in good faith … mostly …
But only one problem with someone else’s armor …
It doesn’t fit us.
It’s not our armor …
It’s not our life.
It trips us up.
Like David, we can’t walk in it!
A lot of people are stumbling through life, because they’re wearing someone else’s armor.
Deep-seated attitudes – behavior patterns … handed down to us by our parents, teachers, and preachers, history and culture … who knows where it all comes from, but it doesn’t fit.
It trips us up!
Maybe it fit them all right.
And maybe it didn’t!
Maybe the armor given to us by our parents was given to them, too … who knows how many generations have worn it, passing it on to their children and great-grandchildren … like DNA.
Every Easter, the Watkins family ate a wonderful meal that featured a baked ham. One Easter, as Marge was preparing the ham in the traditional way by cutting off the end before she put it in the baking pan, her young daughter asked, "Mom, why do you always cut off the end of the ham?"
Marge replied, "Well, I don't really know. My mother always did it that way, let's go ask her why."
So into the living room they went where the family was gathering for Easter.
When they asked Grandma, she said, "I did it that way because my mother always did it that way".
Fortunately Great Grandma was still with them and she was there, too. So they asked her, and she said, "Well, my mother always did it that way......... but come to think about it, I think she did it because her pan was so small."
Here, says Saul, wear my armor.
David gives it a good try.
He puts on Saul’s armor … but Saul was a big man.
David stumbled around in Saul’s heavy armor.
I can only imagine what David looked like:
A child playing dress up …
Putting on dad’s shirt … or mom’s shoes … way too big …
Saul’s armor was way too big …
It wasn’t David.
And that’s point.
No one else is you.
And you are no one else.
You are unique.
Every one of us – utterly unique.
We have to find our own armor.
And for David, it wasn’t even a matter of armor.
David was a shepherd boy!
David’s skills were more than enough to meet the demands of the day …
Skills acquired in the field … protecting the flock against lions and bears …
The tools of his trade – a sturdy staff, and a sling …
David was able to meet Goliath on the field of battle, and with one quick fling of the sling, the stone sailed true and fast and hit Goliath hard, a killing blow to the forehead.
In a moment, it was over.
Goliath was dead.
David victorious.
Not with Saul’s armor.
But with the skills and tools David had grown up with.
All of us are like David.
We have skills and abilities utterly unique to who we are and our own personal history.
But there are plenty Saul’s around who tell us:
“Not good enough.”
“You need my armor.”
“Here, try it on.”
And we give it good try.
But we stumble around in someone else’s armor.
In the new film, “The Proposal,” the young man has a rich and powerful family in Alaska, and a father who wants him to wear the father’s armor.
But the young man goes to New York – he wants to be a writer.
What a struggle for the father who can’t see it that way.
What a struggle for the son who has to say no to his father’s armor.
I’ll not tell you how it turns out, but the point of the story is right on the money: we can’t wear anyone else’s armor.
How proud Saul must have been to give David his armor.
Many a parent falls prey to the temptation to live their lives all over again through their children … I think every parent does it, a little bit, and maybe a whole lot, now and then.
Here, wear my armor.
David tried, and I bet some of you have tried for a long time to wear the armor given to you by your family, by a good professor, or some deep seated emotion that told you, “This is who you are, and if you’re not, you better get with it.”
But whatever the source: someone else’s armor never fits.
David had the courage to take it off. To take it all off.
I wonder if Saul was humiliated when David shed the armor and said, “Thanks but no thanks. I’m a shepherd boy, and God has been preparing me for this moment since I was born.”
In my first year of seminary, Dr. John Piet, a brilliant man, two Ph.D’s from Columbia, 25 years on the mission field in India – a man who knew more Bible than I’ll ever know – taught an introductory course to all first-year students.
In one lecture, a moment that remains with me to this very day:
He said, “God has been preparing you for this calling from the moment of your conception. Look into your heart – what are the things you love, the things that light your fire and excite your imagination? What do you love to do and what do you love to talk about?”
“Here are the clues,” he said, “to your calling.”
Dr. Piet was well aware of a certain tendency … called “self-denial.”
Now, there’s plenty in the Bible about self-denial.
Putting God and others first.
But self-denial has been poorly handled much of the time.
If a young seminarian wanted to do rural ministry, self-denial meant that she ought to do inner-city work.
And if young seminarian wanted to go to the mission field, self-denial meant that he ought to take a pastorate here in the states.
And be miserable!
Dr. Piet helped us all learn how defective that kind of thinking is … he helped us learn the real meaning of self-denial –
Denying the false selves that others create for us.
Denying the false selves that come to us from our culture … from our religion … from sin.
You see, Satan doesn’t want us to discover who we really are.
Satan wants us to live someone else’s dream,
Someone else’s values …
Satan wants us to wear someone else’s armor, because then we keep tripping over it, we’re off balance; nothing every quite fits; nothing ever really works.
If Satan can get us to put on someone else’s armor, Satan wins – not that we become hideous and horrible people – not at all.
Lots of folks go through life wearing someone else’s armor.
The girl who wanted to be a philosopher, but family and culture said: “On no. You’re a woman. You have to be mother and homemaker.”
The boy who wanted to write poetry, but family and culture said, “Oh no, you have to go out and make a living; you have to be successful – big house, fast car.”
And the girl and boy do it all.
But I wonder:
Could that young woman have been an Einstein?
Could that young man have been a Sandburg?
Folks who wear Saul’s armor can be successful.
But the soul is lost.
Something never quite right about it all.
A sadness about their life.
Because no one ever said to them, “It’s okay - take it off. Take it all off.”
“You don’t have to wear your father’s armor.”
“You don’t have to live your mother’s ideas.”
“You don’t have to be anyone else, but you!”
“Find who you are, and you will find God.”
American culture is filled with Saul’s armor.
Walk into a bookstore – what do you find, but a thousand books written by Saul – “Here’s my armor. You have to wear it if you want to defeat Goliath.”
Self-help books.
Leadership books.
Books about money and investing.
A million books – “Here’s my armor.”
We buy the book.
Attend the seminar.
Try on the armor.
Some of it fits, sort of okay, so we think, “Okay, this will be the new me.”
We walk around in it.
We look at ourselves in the mirror.
Looks pretty good, doesn’t it?
Who knows?
The boss may like it, and we’ll get that promotion.
The professor might give you an A.
Dad would be proud.
Mom delighted.
But you’re stumbling.
Because it doesn’t fit.
It’s not you!
Religion can be a terrible Saul.
Religion has rooms full of Saul’s armor, all bright and shiny.
Just waiting for you.
We’ll tell you how to do it.
What to say.
What to think.
How to live.
We’ll shove you into Saul’s armor.
And everyone will cheer.
Hugs and hallelujahs.
And it’ll feel good for awhile.
But in the end, it doesn’t fit.
It doesn’t work.
David gives it a try.
How many here have tried to wear Saul’s armor?
Someone else’s ideas?
Expectations?
How many here this morning still have Saul’s armor on?
Hot and clumsy.
Hard and heavy.
But David takes it off. Takes it all off.
And so can we.
We can do it here and now!
I’ll be me.
What God made me to be.
More than anything, God wants us to discover the good work of who you are – God wants you to discover you.
You are just right for the tasks at hand.
Your life fits perfectly the world around you.
You are you, and that’s more than enough!
David doesn’t need Saul’s armor.
With the skills of his youth, and the tools of his trade, David runs toward Goliath … shouting, You come to me with sword and spear and javelin; but I come to you in the name of the LORD of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. This very day the LORD will deliver you into my hand.
Dear friends, I’ve tried to wear Saul’s armor a time or two.
So have you.
But let’s take it off today. Let’s take it all off.
It’s never too late!
Find who you are, and you will find God!
Amen and Amen!
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