“But I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel…”(NKJV)

Whether George Washington knew it or not, he essentially created one of the biggest cultural icons for the fledgling republic that was known as the United States of America: the underdog.  Up against the only superpower at the time in a war for their very lives, Washington and his mangy, withering and freezing ragtag bunch of volunteers holed up at Valley Forge would have convinced no one that they would eventually become victors in the war for independence.  The “shot that was heard around the world” would end in a humiliating defeat for Cornwallis’ Redcoat troops.  Of course, many things led up to that moment of British surrender.  I can’t help but think that the king’s army incidentally brought it on themselves: row after row of tightly gathered regiments in bright red jackets with white cross suspenders making an obvious ‘x’ on their fronts and backs that basically said, “Shoot me here!”  Target practice was never so easy.

So when Americans with a fondness for underdogs come to the Bible and find a teenager with no battle experience taking on a war veteran giant twice the kid’s size for the survival of the nation, well, that’s an underdog story for the ages!  Of course, good vs. evil, Jew vs. Gentile, God vs. gods were all in the mix as well.  I remember as a kid sitting in the south side of  the Orange Bowl in Miami January 9, 1969, when Joe Namath and the New York Jets, the biggest underdogs of any Super Bowl, systematically dismantled the Baltimore Colts in Super Bowl III.  Sure, it wasn’t the most lopsided score of any Super Bowl, but the result was the most lopsided of expectations.  Namath not only guaranteed the victory before the game, he told them why and how they were going to win.  And like him or not, he was right!

That’s the way it was with a teen upstart named David, a shepherd boy, the last of eight boys in his family.  His oldest brothers were already part of King Saul’s army, and they along with their comrades clanked and rattled their armor in fear like The Wizard of Oz’s Tin Man when Goliath came a-taunting in his twice-a-day routine.  David would have none of it and wondered out loud — to the dismay of the soldiers — who would take out the giant.  They chalked up David’s eagerness as bloodlust, pride or possibly youthful ambition (1 Samuel 17:28).  But David was convinced he could kill him.  As he told the king, “The Lord, who delivered me from the paw of the lion and the paw of the bear, he will deliver me from the hand of this Philistine” (v. 37, NKJV).

There was much more at work here than the king or all of his soldiers combined knew about: David had a real walk with God, a tight walk with him.  So tight that he had this battle done and over in his mind.  He already knew it!  He was the only one who, while on the outside looked like an underdog, was the complete “overdog”.  Why?  Look at the last words Goliath heard: “You come to me with a sword, with a spear and with a 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” (v. 45).  Now, you tell me which is the underdog: Sword vs. the Lord of hosts.  Spear vs. the Lord of hosts.  Javelin vs. the Lord of hosts.  Goliath vs. the Lord of hosts.  Are you seeing what David saw?  Goliath was merely a dead man walking.  Those weapons were things God made, or at least the physical stuff they were made of.  What are they against the Creator?  Who’s the superpower now?  Who’s the underdog?  Sadly, David was the only one that day who knew — knew — he would win.

It gets even better. “Lord of hosts” is used 273 times in the NKJV (the NIV has it “Lord Almighty,” which obscures the Hebrew some).  “Hosts” means a large organized group.  It is used of earthly armies, celestial bodies and heavenly creatures, like angels.  How many angels are there? An innumerable amount.  How many stars are there? Who knows but God: “He counts the number of the starts; he calls them all by name” (Psalm 147:4). And he is not just a manager or steward of them; he’s the Lord of them!  Are you getting the picture?  What chance does a sword or spear or javelin have against him?

“Lord of hosts” doesn’t appear in the Bible until 1 Samuel 1, where the writer records it matter-of-factly.  Seems routine there, but it appears suddenly.  Why is that?  1 and 2 Samuel record the history following the Judges, who typically marshaled hosts of volunteers at the Lord’s command to free them from their repeating captivities.  Here’s how the people lived then: “In those days…everyone did what was right in his own eyes” (21:25).  Do you see as people did during the Judges, or do you see as David saw?