DANIEL

[see pages 1220–1245 of the Old Testament]

The book of Daniel falls into three sections. The first (chapters 1–6)
consists of stories in which Daniel and his three companions are the
heroes. The second (7–12) is made up of revelations told by Daniel
in the first person. The third (13–14) contains short stories that are
not found in the Hebrew/Aramaic text of Daniel but only in the Greek
and Latin versions. Jews and Protestant Christians do not accept
these stories as canonical, but Protestants include them in the
Apocrypha, a collection of ancient Jewish writings, which they
consider edifying even if not inspired. The different kinds of material
in the three divisions of Daniel reflect the gradual growth of the book.
The stories in chapters 1 through 6 are the oldest part and may
originally have been independent stories. We know that the
revelations were composed during the persecution of the Jews by
Antiochus IV Epiphanes of Syria in 168–164 BC. The “Additions”
were added some time later, probably before the beginning of the
Christian era.

The Tales
The stories in the first six chapters are similar in kind to historical
novels—they mention historical names and places but are,
nevertheless, fictional. At several points they contradict what we
know from other sources about the history of the times. For instance,
Belshazzar is presented as a king of Babylon and son of
Nebuchadnezzar. Ancient Babylonian inscriptions show that he was
son of Nabonidus (a slightly later king), and that he served as deputy
ruler in Babylon but was never king. Darius the Mede is not attested
independently of the book of Daniel, but Darius was the name of an
early Persian king.
In each of these cases the book of Daniel has a smattering of
history, but it is not ultimately concerned with historical accuracy. The
stories are means of conveying a religious message, like the
parables of Jesus, and so the occasional historical characters and
places are not the main point. Daniel, like Noah and Job (with whom
he is mentioned in Ez 14:14), may never have existed, but the
religious value of the stories is none the less for that.
The stories paint a picture of the life of Jewish exiles in Babylon. It
is an ideal rather than a realistic picture, but it expresses hopes and
defines acceptable behavior. There is a certain analogy between the
situation of the Jews in a pagan world and the modern situation of
Christians in a secular world, which makes the message of the tales
still relevant today. This message has two facets: it affirms the
possibility of life in a Gentile environment, and insists on the
importance of fidelity to the essentials of the Jewish tradition.

Affirmation of the Gentile Environment

Daniel and his companions are taken into the service of the
Babylonian king and are trained in “the language and literature of the
Chaldeans.” They express no reservations about this training.
Indeed they outshine the Babylonians at their own skills (1:20). The
point of chapter 2 is that Daniel can interpret the king’s dream when
the Babylonian wise men fail, because of the assistance of his God.
His superior ability to interpret mysteries is again in evidence in
chapters 4 and 5.
King Nebuchadnezzar’s dream in chapter 2 provides an
interesting case study in Daniel’s attitude to Gentile kingship. The
dream concerns the famous statue of four metals symbolizing four
kingdoms, which will all be destroyed by a stone and which
symbolizes the kingdom of God. This dream foretells that ultimately
all Gentile kingdoms will be destroyed. There is no urgency about
this prophecy, however. God has allotted a lengthy period of time for
Gentile rule, and during that period Jews can find fulfillment in the
service of a pagan king. The spirit of the passage is similar to that of
Jeremiah 27:6–8, which affirms that all nations must serve Babylon
until its time too shall come.
Chapters 4 and 5 present two case studies of pagan rule in
action. In chapter 4, Nebuchadnezzar becomes proud because of his
great kingdom. For this he is punished by being reduced to the
condition of a beast. After a time his reason is restored, and he gives
praise to God. He is then restored to his kingdom. In chapter 5,
Belshazzar behaves arrogantly at a feast and profanes the sacred
vessels of the Jews. Mysterious writing appears on the wall, which
only Daniel can read. It pronounces judgment on the king. Because
Belshazzar did not learn from the experience of Nebuchadnezzar, he
is weighed in the balance and found wanting, and his kingdom is
given to the Medes and the Persians. In short, Gentile kings must be
subject to God in the fundamental sense that they must temper their
arrogance and behave with restraint. If they do this, Daniel has no
objection to their rule, and indeed he shows sympathetic concern for
Nebuchadnezzar. Only when the kings exceed their limits do they
incur the judgment of God.

The Importance of Fidelity

Despite their success at the pagan court, Daniel and his companions
remain faithful to their Jewish religion. In chapter 1, they refuse to
eat the king’s food because it is not kosher. (See the laws
concerning clean and unclean food in chapter 11 of the book of
Leviticus.) In chapter 3 the three youths refuse to worship the king’s
statue at the risk of death, and in chapter 6 Daniel likewise refuses to
depart from his custom of daily prayer even at the cost of being
thrown into the lions’ den. In each case the Jews ultimately win the
respect of their rulers and emerge more successful than before. The
stories of the fiery furnace and the lions’ den, like all miracle stories,
are meant to arouse a sense of wonder. They are not realistic
stories. The long history of Christian martyrdoms and of the
persecution of Jews (down to the lethal furnaces of Auschwitz)
shows that God does not usually intervene to rescue the innocent.
Christian tradition appropriately understood the stories of the furnace
and lions’ den as representing resurrection from the dead. The
essential point in Daniel’s stories, however, is that God has the
power to save, or to do whatever is for the best. Daniel and his
companions have trust in God, and this liberates them to do
whatever they ought to do regardless of the immediate
consequences. The attitude of the tales is well expressed in the
words of the three youths (3:17f): “If our God, whom we serve, can
save us from the white-hot furnace and from your hands, O king,
may he save us! But even if he will not, you should know, O king,
that we will not serve your god or worship the golden statue which
you set up.” Their fidelity is not conditional. It is a matter of integrity,
and this integrity is the key to their success.
The tales in Daniel 1 through 6 have a very optimistic view of the
Gentile world. The Jews have enemies at the royal court, largely for
reasons of envy, but the kings are well disposed, and repeatedly
praise and acknowledge the God of Daniel. In chapter 6, King Darius
is dismayed when he is tricked into throwing Daniel to the lions. He
is delighted when Daniel survives and readily confesses “the living
God, enduring forever” (6:27). The stories stop short of having the
king convert to Judaism. In a sense it is even more gratifying to have
a pagan king acknowledge the power of the God of the Jews. These
tales express confidence that the truth of Jewish religion is powerful
enough to impress any person of goodwill. Judaism has nothing to
fear from the Gentile or secular world.
Daniel 1 through 6 conveys a sense that God is in control and
that all will work out for the best. The kingdom of God can be
exercised through the rule of pagan kings. True religion does not
require any particular political system. This optimistic view of the
world arose from the experience of Jews in foreign lands in much of
the ancient world. It is similar to the liberal theology that has
flourished in modern times wherever Christians or Jews have lived
under tolerant political regimes. It is an attractive view of the world,
which emphasizes the good in human nature, and is a viable
theology in normal times. Unfortunately, times are not always
normal, and there are occasions when we have to give more
recognition to the forces of evil in the world. One such occasion in
antiquity was the persecution of the Jews in the Maccabean period
(see “Biblical History and Archaeology,” RG 58–59), and it was in this
situation that the apocalyptic visions of Daniel (7–12) were written.

The Revelations

The Apocalyptic Genre

Daniel’s visions belong to the genre of apocalyptic literature, which
takes its name from the book of Revelation in the New Testament.
“Apocalypse” (apokalypsis) is simply the Greek word for revelation,
but the word has come to be associated with a particular kind of
revelation, with certain recurring characteristics.
One trademark of the Jewish apocalypses (though not of the book
of Revelation) is pseudonymity—that is, the real authors (whose
names are not known) wrote under the names of famous people who
had lived long before. Enoch, the most popular visionary, was
supposed to have lived before Noah and the flood. (Enoch appears
in Gn 5:18–24.) Surprisingly, the people of the second century BC do
not appear to have been skeptical about his authorship. Rather, his
great antiquity added to the prestige of his writings.
Another trademark of an apocalypse is the presence of a
mediating angel. An angel explains the visions to Daniel. In other
apocalypses, which are not included in the canon, a visionary such
as Enoch is taken on a tour of the heavens, accompanied by an
angel as tour guide. The presence of the angel emphasizes the
supernatural character of the experience and adds to the sense of
mystery. (The interpreting angel first appears in biblical literature in
the book of Zechariah.)
Apocalypses also have a typical subject matter. This deals on the
one hand with the heavenly world of the angels, and on the other
with predictions of the future, especially of a final judgment. This kind
of writing was developed in Judaism from the third century BC on and
was very popular in early Christianity. The most important Jewish
apocalypses are 1 Enoch, 2 Enoch, 2 Esdras, 2 Baruch, 3 Baruch.
No genre of biblical literature is more difficult for the modern
reader than the apocalypses. This literature is exceptional even
within the Bible. In the modern world liberal Christians tend to avoid
it, while fundamentalists too easily adapt it to their own ends. Several
factors contribute to the difficulty.

The Heavy Use of Symbolism

Apocalypses do not speak directly but veil their meaning in symbolic
language, which is closely related to the language of dreams. All
scholars agree that King Antiochus Epiphanes is a major figure in
Daniel 7–12 (see note on 7:7–8). Yet the king is never mentioned by
name. Instead we read of a beast with ten horns, which sprouts an
eleventh, and we can infer from other historical information that the
eleventh is Antiochus. The text gives us a clue. It tells us that the
four beasts, of which the horned beast is the last, are four kingdoms,
but it never identifies them explicitly. The lack of specificity is typical
of oracles in the ancient world. It adds a sense of mystery, and
strengthens the impression that the prophecy is of supernatural
origin. It also has an effect on the long-term interpretation of the
apocalypse. Two hundred years after Daniel was written, people
could interpret the fourth kingdom as Rome, and the eleventh horn
as a Roman emperor. Down through the centuries the beast could
be interpreted as the villain of the day. This kind of reinterpretation is
helpful if it is done with proper understanding. The apocalyptic vision
describes types of characters who reappear in history. Antiochus
Epiphanes was not the only tyrant worthy of being described as a
beast. One of the uses of an apocalyptic vision is that it gives us
language to describe new situations: the scene of beasts rising from
the sea could be applied appropriately to the outbreak of World War
II. It is important to realize, however, that Daniel was not predicting
this war. He was speaking of a persecution in the second century BC,
and his vision can be applied to other situations only by analogy.
Fundamentalists often read Daniel or the New Testament
Apocalypse as if they were written to predict our modern situation. In
fact, they were written for their own time and place, but they can help
us understand our modern situation because they describe patterns
that recur throughout history.

Angels and Demons

Some modern Christians find the prominence of angels and demons
in apocalyptic literature to be a problem. For Daniel, the battles
between Jews and Greeks are only a reflection of a battle in heaven.
Moreover, it is not God who fights for the Jews but the archangel
Michael, who is mentioned here by name for the first time. Most
people in the ancient world believed that the heavens were peopled
with supernatural beings. Usually these were called “gods,” but
Jewish and Christian tradition makes a sharp distinction between the
supreme deity and the lesser heavenly beings, called angels. The
modern secular world, with its scientific approach to the heavens,
has little room for such beings. An apocalypse, however, is not a
scientific treatise but a work of imagination. To say that there is a
battle in heaven between the patron angels of Greece and Judah is
to say that earthly war is not entirely subject to human control.
Angels provide a vivid way of dramatizing providence or divine
control. To understand an apocalypse, we should not ask, “Do these
angels exist?” but “What do they stand for?” and especially, “If we
imagine a world with angels, what effect does this have on the way
we view human life?”

Pseudonymity
We have noted above that all Jewish apocalypses are
pseudonymous. This device added to the authority of a book. In an
apocalypse it had another advantage: it enabled Daniel to “predict”
four hundred years of history, which were already past when the
book was written. Since the prediction was demonstrably accurate
over these four hundred years, people were more likely to believe
the real prediction of what was still to come. From a modern
viewpoint this practice seems deceptive and therefore unethical. We
consider pseudonymous writing a forgery. The practice was widely
accepted, however, in the Greek and Roman world as well as in
Judaism. While the common people presumably believed that the
revelations were genuinely old, the real authors must have been
known to an inner circle. It is difficult for us to reconstruct the mind-
set of people who wrote pseudonymous books, but it is certain that
they did not regard their work as deceptive. It is possible that the
authors put themselves in the place of Enoch and Daniel, and
imagined that they were actually describing the visions of these
ancient worthies. In any case, the enduring value of the apocalypses
does not lie in the accuracy of their predictions but in the kind of
conduct they inspired and supported. In the case of Daniel, the
question is not whether Daniel really predicted all these things in
advance, but whether his stance in the face of religious persecution
is a good one.
Determinism
Apocalyptic literature typically assumes that history has a fixed
duration and can be divided into a set number of periods (e.g., four
kingdoms or seventy weeks of years). The course of events can be
predicted centuries in advance. Consequently, history appears to be
predetermined. It is important to realize that this does not mean that
human decisions are predetermined. On the contrary, the book of
Daniel is basically a call for decision in a time of crisis. The course of
history is set, and the fate of the righteous and the wicked is
predetermined. The fate of any individuals, however, remains to be
decided and will be determined by the kinds of decisions they make.

Predictions of the End

Perhaps the aspect of apocalyptic literature that most offends
modern sensibilities is the attempt to predict exactly the time of the
end. (In Daniel, the end in question is the end of the persecution. In
later apocalypticism it is often the end of the world.) Down through
the centuries, apocalyptic groups have often set a date for the end of
the world, only to see it come and go. Naturally, such predictions
have been discredited by their frequent failure. The book of Daniel
actually gives three very precise dates for the end of the persecution.
In 8:14, an angel says that the Temple will be desolate for 2,300
evenings and mornings, or 1,150 days. At the end of chapter 12,
however, we are given two different figures: 1,290 days and 1,335
days.
Presumably the number was increased when the end was
delayed. We can understand the function of these numbers in the
time of persecution: it was easier to keep going if one believed that
relief would come on a specific day. Remarkably enough, though, the
failure of these exact predictions did not discredit the book of Daniel.
Later interpreters assumed that the figures must have some
symbolic meaning and were not to be taken literally. In fact, the
attempt to predict the end is only a very minor element in apocalyptic
literature, and its importance should not be blown out of proportion. It
served a limited purpose in its historical setting, but it must be
admitted that such attempts were ultimately counterproductive. This
is not an aspect of apocalyptic literature that anyone should try to
imitate in a modern setting.

Information or Exhortation?
The problems of interpreting apocalyptic literature in the modern
world can be summarized by asking whether we should read these
books for information or for exhortation. It is a fact that any
apocalypse combines the two aspects. It tries to teach us a view of
the world, and if we accept that view we will be disposed to act in a
certain way. The problem is that the apocalyptic view of the world is
no longer acceptable. Much of the “information” provided by an
apocalypse is now incredible if taken literally. It still has value,
however, if we regard it as symbolism and focus on the attitudes and
actions it was designed to support. Such an ethical focus is
fundamentally important for understanding the book of Daniel and its
relevance to modern times.

A Symbolic Vision
Chapter 7 is one of the most famous and influential of all apocalyptic
visions. In part it resembles Nebuchadnezzar’s dream in chapter 2: it
describes four human kingdoms, which will be followed by a kingdom
set up by God. The imagery, however, is very different. Instead of
four metals, Daniel 7 describes four beasts that rise out of the sea. In
biblical poetry the sea is often a symbol of chaos, of all that is
opposed to God, and it is sometimes said to be inhabited by
monsters (for instance, Is 27:1: God “will slay the dragon in the sea”;
compare Is 51:9f). When chapter 7 in Daniel represents the pagan
kingdoms as beasts from the sea, then the point is that they are
rebellious and opposed to God. This represents a view of the pagan
kingdoms, which is much more negative than anything in Daniel 1–6.
After the vision of the four beasts, Daniel sees a judgment scene
in which an “Ancient of Days” sits on a throne, surrounded by
thousands of angels, and the fourth beast is condemned to the fire
(7:9). Then “one like a son of man” appears on the clouds of heaven
(7:13). Christian tradition, beginning with the Gospels, identified this
figure as Jesus Christ, but the passage could not have been
understood in that way by Jews in the second century BC. Jewish
tradition identified the “son of man” as the messiah. Modern
scholarship is divided between two interpretations: some see the
figure as a collective symbol for Israel, others as the archangel
Michael. It is quite clear that he represents the triumph of the Jewish
people over their persecutors. The issue in dispute is how that
triumph was understood. The view that the son-of-man figure is
Michael relies on the analogy with Daniel 10–12, where Michael
represents Israel in a heavenly battle with the angelic prince of
Greece. The triumph of the Jews, then, is imagined in the
apocalypse as a victory by their heavenly patron. The son of man is
always understood as a heavenly individual in other Jewish
apocalypses (1 Enoch, 2 Esdras).
Daniel 7 was written during the persecution of the Jews by
Antiochus Epiphanes of Syria, which is described in 1 and 2
Maccabees. The experience of persecution colored the author’s
perception of all Gentile kingdoms. The message of the vision is that
pagan rulers are evil and in rebellion against God, but that they will
be defeated by the power of God. The symbolism of the vision, how-
ever, with its beasts and fire and figure riding on the clouds,
expresses this idea with exceptional power and vividness.
Consequently, the imagery has been used over and over again in
new situations. It provides language that can express the evil, which
erupts from time to time in human affairs (think of the Holocaust as a
modern example) and which can also express a hope that does not
depend on human power. The message of the vision is one of hope.
Although the forces against us may be demonic, the power of God
and the angels will ultimately prevail. The imagery of this vision is
used repeatedly in the Gospels and most elaborately in the book of
Revelation.
Daniel 8 is a symbolic vision very similar to chapter 7. Even some
of its imagery (the little horn) is taken from the earlier chapter. In this
case the central episode of the imagery concerns the revolt of the
little horn against the host of heaven. There is a reminiscence here
of the morning star, son of the dawn in Isaiah 14, which rises above
the stars of God but is then cast down to the depths. Antiochus
Epiphanes is identified as an example of the general pattern
represented by the Isaianic passage. Again, the prophecy is one of
hope since the pattern guaranteed the fall of the rebel.

A Prophecy Reinterpreted
A different kind of revelation is found in chapter 9. In this case, a
biblical prophecy provides the point of departure. Jeremiah had
prophesied that the land would be subject to Babylon for seventy
years. According to 2 Chronicles 36:20f, this prophecy was fulfilled
by the restoration under Cyrus of Persia (although only fifty years
had elapsed). Zechariah 1:12 related it to the rebuilding of the
Temple (about sixty-six years after its destruction). The author of
Daniel evidently did not think that the restoration of the Persian
period satisfied the prophecy. Rather than discard the prophecy as a
failure, however, he reinterpreted it. Seventy years really means
seventy weeks of years, or 490 years. The way of interpreting
Scripture here is basically the same as the way of interpreting
dreams and visions in the previous chapters. (It is also typical of the
Pesharim, or biblical commentaries, found among the Dead Sea
Scrolls.) The numbers in Jeremiah’s prophecy are taken as
symbolic. The implications of this procedure are far-reaching. When
the visionary says that only three and a half years are left before the
end, we cannot be sure that this will not turn out to mean three and a
half weeks of years. In short, the impression of precise prediction,
which we get from the use of numbers, is misleading. What Daniel
ultimately affirms is not the particular timetable but the reliability of
the promises of God, however mysterious their timing may be.
Chapter 9 also includes a remarkable prayer on the lips of Daniel.
The prayer is of a type common in the postexilic period. (See, e.g.,
Neh 9.) Its theology is typical of the tradition influenced by the book
of Deuteronomy. Israel is punished for its own sin and can only
appeal for the mercy of God. This theology is rather different from
the usual theology of Daniel. The primary cause of Israel’s suffering
in apocalyptic theology lies in the wickedness of the nations that
rebel against God, and indeed in the predetermined plan of history.
In response to the prayer, Daniel receives a revelation, but there is
no question of forgiveness, or of shortening the time of trial because
of repentance. From the viewpoint of the book of Daniel, it is
appropriate to express repentance, as Daniel does, but we should
not expect our prayers to alter the course of events.

Another Dimension of History

Daniel’s apocalyptic view of history is most fully laid out in chapters
10 through 12, which make up one long vision. There, an angel
explains to Daniel that there is an ongoing battle in heaven between
the archangels Michael and Gabriel on the one hand and the angelic
“princes” of Persia and Greece on the other (10:13, 20f). This battle
is reflected on earth in the wars of the Hellenistic age, which are
described at length in chapter 11, and especially in the career of
Antiochus Epiphanes who takes up approximately half the chapter
(11:21–45). At the end Michael will arise in victory (12:1), and the
resurrection will follow.
This long passage makes several claims about history, which
would not be apparent to the typical observer:
First, what is involved is not just warfare between human
kingdoms, but a battle between angelic powers, and the
outcome of this cannot be decided by human power.
Second, the course of history is fixed in advance. The battles
of the Hellenistic age can be revealed to Daniel in the
Babylonian Exile. In fact, the passage was written during the
persecution under Antiochus Epiphanes. It gives an accurate
account of history down to that time (11:39). Such “prophecy
after the fact” implies that the course of history is
predetermined, and it inspires confidence in the actual
prediction with which the passage concludes (in this case,
the imminent death of the king, 11:40–45, and the
resurrection, 12:1–3).
Third, history culminates with the resurrection of the dead.
Daniel is the only book in the Hebrew Bible that clearly
affirms the resurrection of individuals. Earlier prophecy
sometimes uses the language of resurrection for the
restoration of the Jewish nation, as in Isaiah 26:19 and
Ezekiel 37. The book of Wisdom, which was composed in
 Greek about the time of Christ, also has a clear doctrine of
immortality. The idea of resurrection had probably been
introduced into Judaism before the time of the Maccabees.
The noncanonical 1 Enoch, chapter 22, which describes the
abodes of the dead as they wait for resurrection, is probably
older than Daniel. There is no doubt, however, that the
experience of martyrdom in the time of persecution made the
Jews more receptive to belief in resurrection than they had
been before. The importance of resurrection in that setting
can be seen from the story of the seven brothers in 2
Maccabees 7.
Belief in resurrection made an enormous difference to Judaism, and
was essential to the origin of Christianity. Traditional Jewish religion
had taught that the reward for a just life was to see one’s children’s
children, to the fourth generation, and the welfare of the nation as a
whole. In the time of the Maccabees, however, pious Jews were put
to death precisely for obeying the Law and so were cut off from the
traditional reward for a just life. Belief in life beyond the grave, in the
company of the angels, provided an entirely new perspective.
Martyrdom was no longer an absurdity but the means to a greater
end. So Daniel announced that the wise would take their stand in the
time of persecution, even though some of them would fall (11:33–
35). These “wise” do not, apparently, join the Maccabees to fight for
national independence. Rather, they put their trust in Michael and the
heavenly world and choose the way of passive resistance. The stand
of these wise teachers exemplifies the ethical stance of the book of
Daniel, which is the most enduring message of the book.
There is clear continuity between the apocalyptic message of
Daniel 10–12 and the older stories of the fiery furnace and the lions’
den. On the one hand there is the belief that God rules all kingdoms
and has the power to save. On the other is the conviction that one
must act with integrity even at the cost of life itself. The belief in
resurrection makes this conviction easier to maintain.
The apocalyptic visions offer a much less optimistic view of the
Gentile world than the tales of chapters 1 through 6. This again is not
a view for all seasons but for situations of crisis, which we should
hope are exceptional. Pagan powers are not always “beasts from the
sea,” although they may be so on occasion. The ethical stance
advocated by the “wise” in Daniel 11, that of passive resistance, is
not necessarily normative for all situations either. The militant
revolution of the Maccabees is also canonized in the Old Testament.
The book of Daniel exemplifies one possible way in which a faithful
Jew or Christian may respond to a situation of oppression and
persecution. Whether it is the right way can only be decided in light
of the specific circumstances of each situation, but it always
demands serious consideration.

The Additions
Daniel 13 and 14 are rightly labeled as an Appendix in the New
American Bible, as they are independent stories in which Daniel
happens to play a part. Susanna is placed before Daniel 1 in one
Greek translation (that attributed to Theodotion), since Daniel
appears there as a young boy, but there is no doubt that the story
was originally independent.

Susanna
In the story of Susanna, Daniel appears as the wise judge. This role
is suggested by his name (Dan comes from the Hebrew verb, to
judge) but not by anything in Daniel 1–12. His judgment recalls that
of Solomon in 1 Kings 3. The story as a whole may be described as
a parable, insofar as it is a short story that reverses our expectations
in some important respect. (Compare Nathan’s parable in 2 Sm 11
and several of Jesus’s parables.) Normally elders who have been
appointed judges are the righteous ones, and the word of a young
woman would carry little weight against theirs. Yet it is characteristic
of biblical narrative that the underdog prevails or is justified. (A
comparable story involving a woman, Tamar, can be found in Gn 38.)
The story of Susanna loses some of its dramatic effect by telling us
at the outset that the judges are wicked. Nonetheless, the story
provides a nice illustration of the unreliability of conventional
expectations.
In one respect, at least, the story of Susanna has the same
viewpoint as the rest of the book of Daniel. In v. 23, when Susanna is
trapped, she declares: “Yet it is better for me not to do it and to fall
into your power than to sin before the Lord” (Dn 13:23). This is the
same lesson that we learned from the three young men, from Daniel
in the lions’ den, and again from the martyrs of the Maccabean
period. The story is closer to Daniel 1–6 than to 10–12, since it
envisages salvation in this life, and, appropriately, the execution of
Susanna’s accusers.

Bel and the Dragon

Daniel 14 contains two stories that make fun of pagan idolatry.
These stories are caricatures. They should not be taken as accurate
descriptions of Babylonian religion, any more than anti-Catholic
caricatures should be taken as fair representations of the Catholic
veneration of images of saints.
The Babylonians in the stories are excessively stupid, and their
devices are too easily exposed. The story of the dragon shares with
Daniel 6 the motif of the lions’ den but does not necessarily depend
on the earlier chapter. All we can say is that Daniel was associated
with the lions’ den in oral tradition, and that both these stories made
use of the motif. Bel and the Dragon is more fantastic than Daniel 6:
he remains in the den for six days and the prophet Habakkuk is
transported from Judea by an angel to feed him. These fantastic
elements give the tale a lighthearted quality, but the background
here is more tense than in Daniel 1–6. Daniel confronts the
Babylonian religion in a way that he never does in the earlier
chapters. The Babylonians threaten him because of his religious
zeal, not because of professional envy as in chapter 6.
There is a sense here that Judaism and paganism are
fundamentally incompatible. The king is still benevolent, but the
Babylonians suspect that he has become a Jew. There is, of course,
ample precedent for demanding a clear-cut choice between the LORD
and other deities (compare Elijah in 1 Kgs 18). Daniel 1–6 also
presupposed such a choice but did not present it as starkly as
chapter 14. There are times when confrontation can be avoided and
fruitful interaction is possible. Bel and the Dragon, on the other hand,
does not allow for any ecumenical relations with pagan religion.
Presumably this attitude reflects the situation in which the story was
written. Here again we see that the biblical stories are not timeless
in character but are shaped by historical circumstances. Their
modern relevance, likewise, depends on the circumstances in which
we read them.
J.J.C.

FURTHER READING
Collins, John J. Daniel; 1–2 Maccabees. Old Testament Message, 15. Wilmington,
DE: Glazier, 1981. Introductory commentary, along the lines of this Reading
Guide.
Seow, C. L.. Daniel. Westminster Bible Companion; Louisville: Westminster John
Knox, 2003. Clear, introductory commentary intended for lay readers.
Smith-Christopher, D. L. The Book of Daniel. New Interpreter’s Bible 7, 19–152.
Nashville: Abingdon, 1996. Commentary designed for preachers. Liberationist,
postcolonial perspective.

For more detailed, scholarly commentary see:

Collins, John J. Daniel. A Commentary on the Book of Daniel, with an essay, “The
Influence of Daniel on the New Testament,” by Adela Yarbro Collins. Hermeneia.
Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993. Detailed commentary on the full book, including the
additions.
Montgomery, James A. The Book of Daniel. International Critical Commentary.
Edinburgh: Clark, 1927. Reprint, 1979. Classic scholarly commentary, although
out of date in some respects.
Newsom, Carol A. Daniel. A Commentary, with a contribution by Brennan Breed.
Old Testament Library. Louisville: Westminster, 2014. Literate historical and
theological commentary.

For the Additions to Daniel see:

Moore, C. A. Daniel, Esther and Jeremiah: The Additions. Anchor Bible 44.
Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1977.

The noncanonical apocalyptic literature can be found in:

Charlesworth, J. H., ed. The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha. Vol. 1. Garden City,
NY: Doubleday, 1983.
Sparks, H. F. D., ed. The Apocryphal Old Testament. Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 1984.

For a study of this material see:

Collins, J. J. The Apocalyptic Imagination. 2nd ed. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans,
1998.

On the historical context see:

Portier-Young, Anathea. Apocalypse against Empire: Theologies of Resistance in
Early Judaism. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011.