Who Really Killed Goliath?

The Old Testament is a divine embroidery that threads tales of history, folklore, and everyday life into a rich fabric. You can peel back the pages of 1 Samuel 17 and visualize a defiant youth, with boundless faith, slaying a giant named Goliath. In an epic battle, David calls his shot and tells Goliath, “You come to me with a sword and with a spear and with a javelin; but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts, and the Lord will deliver you into my hand, and I will strike you down, and cut off your head.”

Preachers across the nation inspire their congregations with homilies about David’s valor and exploits. In Sunday school and catechism classes, the Davidic tradition is passed down to youth who are like gems waiting to be theologically polished. I would argue that this rite of passage transcends the sanctuary and is a staple of American culture. Even Old Testament mythicists find a deep connection to the David-vs.-Goliath archetype because it’s a literary portrait that captures the human condition. We have all felt small, weak, and powerless when facing the figurative giants in our lives. The iconography of David slaying a giant is a metaphor for the underdog who stands in defiance of, and overcomes, seemingly insurmountable obstacles. David’s allegory of faith gives us hope like a seafaring ship steadied by unseen hands. As the storms of life thrash at the integrity of its timbers, the ship remains afloat.

But what if I told you there is a competing tradition in the Old Testament about an individual with a much lower profile who slayed Goliath? This man was a commoner, a servant with no royal pedigree. His biography is not associated with unflinching faith, and he is rarely cited in sermons or texts. Religious tradition has swept all trace of him from the chronicles of time. His existence is an echo unfulfilled, a faint whisper not heard.

As we unfurl the centuries-wrought scroll, 2 Samuel 21:19 hurls us into an ancient dustup, a sand flare that results in the earth bowing under the weight of a fallen titan. As the New Revised Version (NRV) tells it:

And there was again war with the Philistines at Gob; and Elha’nan the son of Ja’are-or’egim, the Bethlehemite, slew Goliath the Gittite, the shaft of whose spear was like a weaver’s beam.

The scribe of 2 Samuel 21:19 narrates El­ha’nan’s slaying of Goliath, whose spear had a shaft like a weaver’s beam. But is this the same Goliath whom David vanquished in 1 Samuel 17:4 and 17:50? Those verses read, respectively:

And there came out from the camp of the Philistines a champion named Goliath, of Gath, whose height was six cubits and a span.

So David prevailed over the Philistine with a sling and with a stone, and struck the Philistine, and killed him; there was no sword in the hand of David.

Likewise, in the Davidic tradition, the scribe of 1 Samuel 17:7 describes Goliath’s spear as having a shaft like a weaver’s beam:

And the shaft of his spear was like a weaver’s beam, and his spear’s head weighed six hundred shekels of iron; and his shield-bearer went before him.

The chronicler of the Davidic tradition writes in 1 Samuel 17:4 that Goliath was a Philistine giant from Gath, one of the five principal cities of the Philistine pentapolis. In 2 Samuel 21:19, Goliath is described as a Gittite. According to Strong’s Exhaustive Concordance of the Bible, a Gittite is an inhabitant of Gath.

The name, the weaponry used, and the origin of Goliath are almost identical in both accounts, and the academic consensus is that 1 Samuel 17:4 and 2 Samuel 21:19 refer to the same giant. Moreover, the Masoretic text cites Elha’nan as the Israelite who slayed Goliath. The Masoretic text (M.T.) is considered the gold standard for the Hebrew Bible (Tanakh) and was carefully compiled and preserved from the sixth to the tenth century A.D. Here is how this authoritative text renders 2 Samuel 21:19:

And there was yet another battle in Gob with the Philistines and Elha’nan son of Ya’ari killed Goliath the Gittite.

Hence, we have this asymmetrical split screen, with David killing Goliath in one tradition, and Elha’nan slaying Goliath in another. It gets more confusing when we discover that the epic battle took place on different soil. In 1 Samuel 17:2 the battle took place in the Valley of Elah, whereas in 2 Samuel 21:19 the slaying occurred in Gob. Finally, in 1 Chronicles 20:5 Goliath indents the earth in Gezer. How do we come up with a charitable interpretation of the text with so many conflicting narratives?

The search for truth becomes even more complicated when the New International Version (NIV, 2011) and the King James Version (KJV) append the brother of to 2 Samuel 21:19. The NIV reads:

In another battle with the Philistines at Gob, Elhanan son of Jair the Bethlehemite killed the brother of Goliath the Gittite, who had a spear with a shaft like a weaver’s rod.

This interpolation occurs in the KJV as well. But a footnote to this verse in the NIV gives us a peek into the mindset of its editors: “See 1 Chron. 20:5; Hebrew does not have the brother of.” In other words, the appended “brother of” does not appear in the M.T.

It’s clear that the editors of the KJV and the NIV were trying to harmonize a textual mirror that gives two different reflections. It’s unlikely that Goliath would be at two locations at once, and biology tells us he did not die twice. The way to smooth over this contradiction would be to change the narrative so that Elha’nan killed Goliath’s brother, thus preserving the two traditions. Yet text-critical scholars often cringe at this kind of creative license, arguing that the original text should speak for itself without selective additions or omissions. Biblical purists believe the text should be preserved in its original state, untarnished.

For reference, there are Bibles such as the NRV and its update, the NRSV (New Revised Standard Version), that comport with the original Hebrew, and there are others, such as the NIV (2011) and the KJV, that add “the brother of” with an accompanying footnote. Yet, after reading the verse to which the footnote points, we find the added ink blots do not lift the cognitive fog we have experienced trying to make sense of the previous passages. 1 Chronicles 20:5 (NIV) reads:

Again there was war with the Philistines, and Elha’nan son of Jair killed Lahmi the brother of Goliath the Gittite, the shaft of whose spear was like a weaver’s beam.

The chronicler is writing during the Babylonian exile or later, centuries after the Books of Samuel were written. Notice how the chronicler subsumed “the brother of” into the narrative and ascribed the name Lahmi to the giant. This rendering of 1 Chronicles 20:5 is consistent across all translations of the Bible and the Masoretic text.

Many Old Testament scholars argue that the debate ends here. By stitching together history from ancient manuscripts, the chronicler cleared up the confusion of competing narratives by articulating that Elha’nan didn’t kill Goliath but his brother, Lahmi. This preserves the traditional story, and David emerges as the hero who brought down a towering juggernaut. After all, there is no discrepancy among translations, and every rendering of 1 Chronicles 20:5 conveys the same thing: Elha’nan killed Lahmi, the brother of Goliath.

But what if I told you that a large body of scholarship believes 1 Chronicles 20:5 was altered in an attempt to harmonize the asymmetry between 1 Samuel 17:50 and 2 Samuel 21:19?

Dan McClellan, Ph.D., a popular podcaster and broadcaster who received his biblical training at Oxford and the University of Exeter, argues that Lahmi is a Semitic word that translates to “my bread” (“David Didn’t Kill Goliath,” YouTube, Feb. 10, 2025). Yet no such naming convention exists for “my bread” during this period in history; moreover, Goliath’s brother would have had a Philistine signature. These oddities make the text suspect. McClellan argues that it is more likely that a scribe changed one or two words from his Hebrew vorlage so it harmonizes the contradictory narratives.

In 1 Chronicles 20:5 the direct object marker et is moved to the front of lahmi, signifying that this is what is being killed. Hal is truncated from hallahmi in 2 Samuel 21:19 to create lahmi. And then ahi, which translates to “brother of,” replaces et from 2 Samuel 21:19. Some clever wordsmithing reconciles the contradiction, because when translated it reads, “Elhanan son of Jair killed Lahmi the brother of Goliath the Gittite.”

McClellan also defends the text-critical approach of lectio difficilior, meaning when ancient text changes, the scribes usually change it from a more difficult reading to a less difficult reading. In this case, perhaps the scribe was trying to make sense of two irreconcilable sources. It was much easier for him to weave together two distinct narratives instead of negotiating the theological dilemma of David’s and Elha’nan’s killing the same giant.

McClellan is not alone in his thesis. Marvin A. Sweeney, professor of the Hebrew Bible at Claremont School of Theology, authored commentaries on 1 and 2 Samuel in the New Cambridge Bible Commentary series (2023). He writes, “This reference is controversial due to the claim that David killed Goliath in 1 Samuel 17. Solutions include claims that David’s birth name was Elha’nan or that David took credit for a victory won by one of his own warriors.” As McClellan argues, “Of these two solutions, the first is the more common, traditional one within Judaism. The second narrative is supported by the overwhelming academic consensus.”

Hugh G.M. Williamson, emeritus Regius professor of Hebrew at Oxford, authored the well-regarded New Century Bible Commentary on 1 and 2 Chronicles (1982). He writes, “It is generally held that the chronicler found a discrepancy between 2 Samuel 21:19 and 1 Samuel 17 where it is David who slays Goliath (the continuation of the shaft of whose spear was like a weaver’s beam makes it clear that the same Goliath is being spoken of: cf. 1 Samuel 17:7), and that he deliberately altered his vorlage in order to affect a harmonization.” Williamson also argues that 2 Samuel 21:19 may have some text-critical issues due to the alteration of the name of Elha’nan’s father.

Sara Japhet, an Israeli biblical scholar and a leading authority on the Old Testament, is the author of I & II Chronicles: A Commentary (1993). She writes:

The existence of two parallel traditions for such a crucial incident should not surprise us; a problem arises only when these traditions are pressed into service as historical sources for the reconstruction of the period. In this case only one of them can be authentic, but a rejection of either tradition greatly weakens the reliability of the material in general. Two basic approaches to the problem can be discerned in the history of interpretation. One is the attempt to harmonize the two traditions by providing some explanation for the one deviating detail, the name of the warrior. The rabbinic way…was to regard the two names as being in fact two appellations for the same person. This principle was followed by several scholars; it has been suggested that “Elha’nan” was a proper name and “David” an appellative, or differently, that one name was merely a corruption of the other. The other, and opposite, way of interpretation was to create maximum differentiation between the two traditions, emphasizing their independence. The earliest representative of this approach is this text in Chronicles, which presents the tradition of II Sam. 21.19 as completely distinct from I Sam. 17. This is accomplished by the slightest of alterations, which may even seem at first glance to be accidental textual corruptions.

Surprisingly, the debate over who killed Goliath has been ongoing for over a century. Henry P. Smith, a professor at Andover Theological Seminary before his death in 1927, authored A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Books of Samuel (1899). He writes, “In another campaign, Elha’nan ben Jair the Bethlehemite slew Goliath the Gittite; the harmonistic purpose of the chronicler in making the victim the brother of Goliath is evident.”

If the Elha’nan tradition is supported by the academic consensus, why is the story not being taught from pulpits? Why is Elha’nan brushed aside, relegated to being an obscure footnote of history?

Some religious bodies steeped in tradition have difficulty allowing viable, competing ideologies into their theological framework. Ambiguity and uncertainty often are not prized commodities in contemporary churches. The goal seems to be to galvanize the congregation’s faith and bring a sense of certainty and assurance to a chaotic world. We want ease and comfort; we don’t want to have to grapple with diverse scholarship or theological perspectives.

Some apologists want to preserve David’s heroic image because he was a progenitor of the Messiah’s ancestral lineage. The Bible presents David as the chosen king, and Jesus as the final heir to David’s throne. P. Kyle McCarter, professor emeritus of biblical studies at Johns Hopkins University, points out that ancient scribes had a propensity to attribute the heroic acts of unknowns to the more well-known. He writes in the Anchor Yale Bible Commentary (1984) that “deeds of obscure heroes tend to attach themselves to famous heroes, and there is no doubt that the tradition attributing the slaying of Goliath to Elha’nan is older than that which credits the deed to David.” And Joel S. Baden, professor of Hebrew Bible at Yale Divinity School, writes in The Historical David: The Real Life of an Invented Hero (2013) that “the Goliath of 1 Samuel 17 is a secondhand creation, and the entire narrative is a literary exercise in Davidic glorification.”

The Elha’nan tradition can be just as meaningful and inspiring, even though he is described in 2 Samuel 21:15 as a lowly servant. His is a legendary tale of somebody we never hear of, a man who does not have a sterling pedigree. Elha’nan is not highly regarded in contemporary churches, nor is he a progenitor of the Messiah. In fact, his life story is a chronology of blank pages; he is mentioned only four times in the Bible. Yet this pillar of courage is hiding in plain sight. The Elha’nan archetype represents those unsung heroes who rarely pierce the veil of our consciousness, even though they are all around us. They are parents raising their children to have compassion for the poor and suffering. They are commoners who throw out lifelines to the salt of the earth. They are the men and women standing in defiance of the giants of cancer, mental illness, and other maladies. They are the broken spirits draped in the memories of trauma and long-forgotten wars. They go unnoticed, and there is no fanfare for them, but their feats live on throughout eternity.

Philip Zimbardo, a social psychologist and mastermind of the notorious 1971 Stanford Prison Experiment, wrote, “We must democratize the notion of heroism away from older views of the select few, who seem not to walk on mortal soil, and to be blessed with inborn super qualities. Anyone can be a hero at any time an opportunity arises to stand up for what is right and just, and to speak out against injustice, corruption, and other evil.” Elha’nan, an obscure servant in the royal court of David, embodies those heroic ideals.

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