A while back I stumbled onto an online chat where people were discussing what’s the world’s easiest job. One guy, who apparently did this for a period of time, said it was a security guard. He sat in a room and looked at surveillance cameras while watching Netflix on his phone for the entire shift. Another guy talked about how he worked graveyard at a homeless shelter. A bed was set up in a side room where he could sleep with the understanding that if someone overdosed, he was to be awakened to administer Narcan. He went on to say no one did so during his time there, so he ended up getting paid to sleep. Another said it was a flower delivery driver—everyone was always glad to see him. He never got a “Go away!” … or “Get outta here!” … or “Leave me alone!”
You can probably think of other jobs that fill the bill. I always thought one that should be on the list would be restaurant reviewer or movie critic—you’d get free meals and invitations to private screenings of about-to-be-released movies and then you could criticize someone else’s work to death. It seems to me most of your job would involve finding fault. And to think you’d get paid for something that comes so naturally and requires so little training. It’s not like any of us would have to go to school to learn how to do that!
Fact is criticism is very real part of life. We’ve all experienced it. At some time, we’ve all had our motives questioned, our competency challenged, and our abilities doubted. We’ve had people say something that tore us down in tones that weren’t affirming or helpful or wholesome. Criticism is unavoidable. The only way to avoid it is to say nothing, do nothing, or be nothing. But if we’re going to attempt something bold and daring with our lives, we should bank on the fact criticism is sure to follow! As someone once said, “We only throw rocks at trees loaded with fruit”.
In this series of posts, I’m looking at the story of David and Goliath. For it’s not just a story of David’s success in a difficult situation. It’s an instructive account that gives us insights as to how to take on and successfully tackle the giants in our lives—those things that intimidate and threaten to overwhelm us. If we’re going to be so valiant as to engage a giant and take it on, we’ve got to address the issue of criticism. For anyone who’s sought to do something significant with their life has had to hop over that hurdle.
David teaches us well on how to conquer critics and criticism. For he experiences criticism from three distinct sources.
First, he encounters criticism from his older brother Eliab. To conquer criticism, we must get by the Eliab’s in our lives—those people that are over us emotionally.
When Eliab, David’s oldest brother, heard him speaking with the men, he burned with anger at him and asked, “Why have you come down here? And with whom did you leave those few sheep in the wilderness? I know how conceited you are and how wicked your heart is; you came down only to watch the battle.” “Now what have I done?” said David. “Can’t I even speak?” He then turned away to someone else and brought up the same matter, and the men answered him as before. (1 Samuel 17:28-30, NIV)
The Philistine army and Israel’s army met at the Valley of Elah and the champion of the Philistine army—a giant named Goliath—has been challenging Israel’s champion to step forward and take him on. He’s been doing it twice a day for forty days and, so far, no one has emerged from Israel’s army to take him no. David’s three oldest brothers are part of Israel’s army and his father dispatched him to deliver a care package, check on them, and return with a report. David arrived as the men are readying for battle when Goliath stepped forward and shouted his insults, and they all ran back into their tents. There was an epidemic of Goliath-phobia sweeping through the army and rendering it incapacitated.
It’s at this point Eliab sees little brother and goes off. First, he questions David’s motives. “Why have you come down here?”, i.e., What are you really doing here? What’s your agenda? He thinks he knows what’s driving David when, in fact, he was there at their father’s behest. Eliab attaches reasons for David being there that are way off base. He assumed. He never sought to understand or see if there was a backstory. His criticism says much more about him than it did David.
Second, he humiliated and belittled him. “With whom have you left those few sheep in the desert?”, i.e., Check out “shepherd boy” here—he’s come to save the day. It was as if he said, “You have no right to speak into this situation because you’re just a lowly herdsman. Why don’t you just shut up and stay in your lane?”
Then he got downright ugly and angry. “I know how conceited you are and how wicked your heart is.” You’re here for the show. You’re just a pesky thrill-seeker wanting to see how this thing plays out. He thought David was trying to provoke someone else—perhaps him—into battle. When you’re afraid, the last thing you want is someone challenging you to be courageous and exposing your cowardice and faintheartedness.
Eliab is not an older brother given to affirmation and encouragement. You listen to his words and wonder, “What’s with him?” Here’s what I think the problem is. In chapter 16, we read the account of the prophet Samuel going to Jesse’s house in search of a king and successor to Saul. It tells us that when he arrived, he saw Eliab—a tall, good looking young man who seemed to fit the part—and Samuel thought, “Surely this is the guy”. But God said “No”.
When they arrived, Samuel saw Eliab and thought, “Surely the Lord’s anointed stands here before the Lord.” But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:6-7)
Samuel goes through the other six sons and gets the same response. Confused he asked Jesse, “Have you got any sons left?” to which Jesse replied, “Only the youngest who’s out tending sheep.” So they sent for David and, when he arrived, God said, “This is the one” and Samuel anointed him.
The text doesn’t say it, but I believe what’s got Eliab’s goat is the fact he felt overlooked and rejected in favor of his baby brother. This is how his disappointment and frustration came out—by taking shots at him. How easy it is to see our own guilt and flaws in somebody’s else. For who do you think had the wicked heart and contemptuous spirit—David or Eliab? Finding fault is a lot like washing windows—the dirt always seems to be on the other side. Quite often criticism says much more about the one offering it than it does the one receiving it. And—bank on it ... behind the criticism of someone who comes at you like Eliab came at David is something else. The presenting issue is not the real issue; there’s a deeper issue fueling it.
Nevertheless, as I reflect upon this exchange, some basic observations come to mind. Criticism hurts when it comes from someone who’s over us emotionally. It hurts when it questions our motives. Criticism hurts when it’s continual. You get the sense that’s the case when David asks Eliab in v. 29, “Now what have I done?”. The very question tells you this was a pattern in their relationship: "OK, what is it this time?” And criticism hurts when it comes from people from whom we’d expect encouragement and support.
But the important thing to notice is that while Eliab’s words hurt David, they didn’t hinder him. He remained concerned primarily with God’s cause before everything else. Before his own personal safety, his own personal glory, and his own personal honor, he was passionately concerned about God’s cause. Which goes to show that if we’re going to tackle giants, we’ve got to get past the Eliab’s in our lives—those who are over us emotionally.
To conquer criticism, we’ve also got to get past the Saul’s in our lives—the people who are over us positionally.
What David said was overheard and reported to Saul, and Saul sent for him. David said to Saul, “Let no one lose heart on account of this Philistine; your servant will go and fight him.” Saul replied, “You are not able to go out against this Philistine and fight him; you are only a young man, and he has been a warrior from his youth.” (1 Samuel 17:31-33)
You’d think if anyone would be excited about someone agreeing to take on Goliath, it would be Saul. He’s the king. Obviously he wasn’t going to do it, and neither was anyone else gathered there. You’d think he’d be elated that someone finally was going to step up. But he wasn’t—in fact, he tried to discourage it. Saul didn’t want to fight, but he also didn’t want to admit that fact to himself. If David stepped up, it would expose him as the petty, cowardly, and spineless leader he was.
Something I’ve learned about people that are over other us positionally is that, when they’re petty and insecure, they will view those around them or under them as a threat instead of a help. They will see them as a danger or hazard rather than an asset or benefit—a problem instead of a teammate. They don’t want others to step forward and shine, because they’re afraid it’ll come at their expense and they’ll be exposed for what they are.
So Saul starts to criticize. “You’re too young. You’re not experienced enough. You don’t have the size for it. You don’t know what you’re doing. You’ve never been to ‘War College’.” He lists a whole host of reasons why David shouldn’t do what he personally is unwilling to do. Have you ever noticed critics have a way of creating “solution pollution”? They find fault and point out how imperfectly others can’t do that thing they’re not willing to attempt or try to do at all.
On the surface Saul is much more capable and qualified, but he’s not going to step forward. But it doesn’t stop him from criticizing David and pointing out his shortcomings. If we’re going to successfully take on a giant, we must often get by those who are over us positionally—those whose fears and insecurities would try to keep us in our place and prevent us from stepping forward.
Third—to conquer criticism, we must get by the Goliath’s in our lives. Those are the people who are over us ability-wise.
Meanwhile, the Philistine, with his shield bearer in front of him, kept coming closer to David. He looked David over and saw that he was little more than a boy, glowing with health and handsome, and he despised him. He said to David, “Am I a dog, that you come at me with sticks?” And the Philistine cursed David by his gods. “Come here,” he said, “and I’ll give your flesh to the birds and the wild animals!” (1 Samuel 17:41-44).
When David shows up on the battlefield, Goliath laughs. And who wouldn’t? There was nothing about David that struck fear into Goliath’s heart. He was expecting a seasoned warrior to fight against, and he got a teenage boy. If you were betting on the outcome, you wouldn’t have wasted a dime on David. Goliath was head over heels better. He was more experienced and had better weaponry. He was the hands down favorite, and he knew it. So, he criticized David. In fact, his words are much more demeaning and disrespectful than they appear at first glance. The word “dog” is used in other passages in the Old Testament to refer to a male homosexual prostitute. I don’t think Goliath was insinuating that David was such but, at the very least, his words were a derogatory insult. He was implying that sending him out as Israel’s champion to do battle with him was an insult—an affront to his manhood. “Hey, this is a big game. What are you doing sending out your water boy from junior varsity? Bring it on, little man! Lets see what you’ve got. Lets see how long it takes me to turn you into food for the buzzards that are circling.”
In my next post, I’m going to examine how David prepared for and got past Goliath. There are a number of relevant points of application that can be drawn from that part of the story. But in this post my focus is on how he overcame the criticism … how didn’t let it stop him from stepping up and doing what God was asking him to do.
My sense is that’s a real issue for some of us. There’s someone in your life that perpetually criticizes you. And your heart is so tender to where it is piercing and paralyzing in its impact. It has, at times, stopped you from doing what God is wanting you to do. You’ve tried to ride the fence—do enough to pacify and placate God without doing anything that will generate any additional criticism. You’ve discovered how uncomfortable it can be to be in that place, and you need a dose of courage to not let someone’s negatives keep you from experiencing God’s positives.
For others of you, you don’t see yourself as being the recipient of criticism but, rather, the source of it. All too often you demonstrate a censorious and critical spirit. Perhaps, like Eliab, it stems from the fact you feel like you’ve been overlooked, rejected, or snubbed in some way. Maybe, like Saul, it’s the product of your personal insecurities and paranoias, and it comes out in how you relate to other people. Or perhaps, like Goliath, it stems from an unhealthy sense of pride and self-importance that needs to be toned down. Regardless of whether you sense God wants to help you better deal with criticism or stop being a source of it to others, my prayer is that you, like David, won’t allow it to be a crippling and debilitating force in your life.