Five Smooth Stones I Samuel 17: 37-40 The story of David and Goliath is one of the most familiar in the Bible. Every child in Sunday School learns it. Young David, the ordinary shepherd boy, goes up against the Philistine champion, nine foot tall Goliath, and defeats him. Actually uses Goliath’s own sword and cuts off his head – I think that part is skipped when we teach the story to children in Sunday School! PG-13 at least! But the part of the story I like best is the five smooth stones. And the question it raises. After all, David only needed one stone to incapacitate Goliath. Why did he need five? Some Biblical scholars suggest that he took five just in case he missed with the first. Or if he needed more than one to dispatch Goliath. Other scholars suggest that since Goliath had four brothers, each as tall and as ferocious as him, David might have to fight them too. Well, I suppose these are all possible explanations, but I’ve always thought that the real meaning of the five smooth stones is simple. It was as if God was saying to David – ‘you don’t need armor or a shield or a sword or a spear or a bazooka. You just need me. I’m your weapon.’ And so it didn’t matter of David had five smooth stones or four rough ones or three pebbles, or a couple of acorns. He had God as he went out to meet Goliath. And isn’t that the point of this story? Isn’t that the message God has for us? We don’t need five smooth stones – literally that is. We’ve got God when we face our Goliaths. We’ve got God when we march out to meet our giants. We’ve got God when we head across our Valley of Elah. Christian author Max Lucado, in his book based on Philippians, chapter four, tells of how he grew up in a camping family. One day, his father brought home a tent that was huge – room enough for at least a one-ring circus. And no collapsible aluminum tent poles; this tent had poles that were made of cast iron - probably as big and heavy as Goliath’s sword! And he tells this story – on one camping trip his family took in Colorado, with all his father’s siblings, a huge storm came, pelting the rest of the family’s tents and threatening to blow them away. All his relatives ran to Max’s father’s tent. And those cast iron tent poles were so strong, nothing could blow them down. That’s how it is when we face our Goliaths with God on our side. Nothing can blow Him down. Nothing. And while David did have five smooth stones, well, they weren’t his real weapon. Nor was his slingshot; his real weapon was his, your, my, our sovereign God. As long as we remember to keep Him sovereign. As I once saw on a church signboard: “If God is your co-pilot, maybe you should change seats!” And remember: David didn’t choose God; God chose David. Which takes us to the beginning of his story. And King Saul. The first king. God’s anointed. Who turned out to be a terrible king? Frustrated, God gave up on Saul – that’s a terrible thought isn’t it? But then Saul gave up on God first! So the Lord sent the prophet Samuel to Bethlehem to anoint a son of a man named Jesse to be the new king. Jesse had eight sons, and when Samuel met the first seven, he was convinced that any one of them could have been king. They were all either GQ models or entrants in the Mister Universe contest. God chose none of them, much to Samuel’s surprise. So here Samuel was with his flask of anointing oil and no one to pour it on. Until Jesse thought a minute and said: ‘Oh wait, there’s the youngest son; he’s out there on the fields tending sheep. But you don’t want him – he’s the runt of the litter and anyway, he smells like sheep – pretty odiferous to say the least.’ Well, maybe Jesse didn’t figure Samuel would bother with this young shepherd boy. Maybe Samuel wasn’t so sure either. But God was sure. Is. Always shall be. But then, doesn’t God surprise us by the ones He chooses? Or does not choose? After all, He chose all of us to be His servants, though we might not, when looking in the mirror, think that we are worthy of being designated as His anointed. Most of us, no offense to anyone, might not be the ones the world would pick out as the perfect choice to spread the Word of God. Most of us, looking in the mirror, would wonder why God would choose us. Most of us would think that in God’s version of a high school yearbook, ‘Most Likely to Succeed’ would not be above our photograph. Years ago, a member of our congregation was asked to serve on Session. Her response was: ‘Only if you can’t find anybody better.’ Which the Nominating Committee couldn’t, because there WAS nobody better for the exact part on Session that this woman fulfilled. She was the best at what she had been called to do. And not only was she the best – she did her best. After all, anyone of us can be the best. But only if we do our best will anything happen. And think of those God did choose – Moses, who stuttered; Jeremiah, who was far too young to be a prophet; Elijah, who suffered from clinical depression; Hosea, whose marriage to a woman who kept a red light by her side, was a drain on his life; Peter, whose nickname Rocky referred as much to his vacillating nature as to his faith; Paul, who as Saul of Tarsus, was a terroristic, legalistic persecutor of the church. Quite a rogue’s gallery of potential losers. But they all had some version of five smooth stones. And did incredible things with them. In each of their ministries, there was no one better. As is true for all of us. Not a few of us. Or most of us. Or every one of us except ‘me.’ Each one of us has a particular anointing that God has in store. And no one else, no one ‘better,’ could possibly be dripping in the same oil. And it doesn’t matter if your anointing is for leadership or teaching or singing or encouragement or quilting, your anointing is YOUR anointing! And if the oil is dripping down your head and over your body, well, you’d better not shampoo it out or take your clothes to the dry cleaner too soon. God wants YOU! ME! US! Even if you don’t think He does. Because there is nobody better for the job He has in store for you. And for David, the results of his anointing begin in the Valley of Elah. He DID NOT shampoo the oil out of his hair or take his robe to the dry cleaners. With nine foot tall Goliath before him. Standing there in all his full force, taunting the Israelite army to choose one soldier to face up to him. Fight him mano a mano. And there is this skinny kid David – Goliath could have used him as a toothpick! But David has his five smooth stones. Of course, so did the rest of those on the Israelite side of the Valley of Elah. Saul, who was, after all, the first anointed king. An imposing physical specimen himself, as he stood a head taller than any other man in Israel. His sons were there as well. Oh, and don’t forget David’s brothers – you know – the GQ models and Mr. Universe contestants. And all of them stood there, shaking in their sandals. Well, of course they were. Goliath’s voice was so loud that it probably reverberated down their backs. They could probably smell his sweat. And feel his hot breath down their necks. Or at least think they could. The problem was – their five smooth stones were still in the brook. Lying there, unused. And my guess is that, if they had their proverbial ‘druthers,’ they’d druther go home. I suppose a lot of us would ‘druther’ go home when we face our Goliaths. It would be so much easier. After all, if Rosa Parks had simply given up her seat to a white passenger on a bus in Montgomery, Alabama on December 1, 1955, she wouldn’t have been arrested. She wouldn’t have had to pay a fine. She would have gone home that night to a quiet dinner with her husband and faded into the woodwork. Nice and peaceful. And probably would have gotten on that same bus the next day. And the day after that. And given up her seat to how many more white passengers? And the Montgomery bus boycott would have been started by someone else. And the Civil Rights movement would have gone on. Without her. And we would never have known who she was. Someone else would have taken five smooth stones. But Rosa Parks didn’t wait for someone else. She took a stand – by sitting. And faced her Goliath. Miep Gies was living a quiet life in Amsterdam. Until the Nazis invaded.