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The Question of Authorship and Dating
DANIEL AND HIS FRIENDS OBEY
GOD
Daniel 1
Opening Thought
1) It is true that hard times not only build character, they also reveal it.
How a person handles difficulties says a lot about that person’s character
and beliefs. So, what is the most difficult situation that you have faced?
How did you handle it? What did it reveal about your faith?
2) What tests or trials are you facing right now? Are you clinging to God
and continuing to faithfully live as he commands? Are you compromising?
Grade yourself with an A–F and explain why you gave yourself that grade.
Background of the Passage
Daniel’s book is one of the best–loved books in the Old Testament,
whether for its memorable characters and engaging stories [Daniel 1–6] or
for its startling visions of the future [Daniel 7–12]. The book is often held
up as a model of godliness, particularly in cultures hostile to the gospel
message, and Daniel’s visions have been the impetus for many graphic
charts of the end times. Even some of the language and ideas of Daniel’s
book have seeped into popular culture, whether Christian or secular.
Although Daniel’s book is well loved, it is nonetheless difficult to
understand. The combination of compelling stories and terrifying visions
has left many to be uncertain on how the book’s two parts fit together.
Such uncertainty is complicated by other features: it has two distinct
genres, two different languages, and prophecies unlike anything else in the
Old Testament. Thus, scholars naturally ask the following questions:
1. Who wrote the book?
2. When was it written?
3. Why was it written?
4. What kind of literature is it?
Answering these questions involves lengthy mind–numbing scholarly
research, but the final result is a satisfying understanding of Daniel’s book!
Daniel’s book does not have a superscription that identifies its author and
setting. The long–held assumption was that Daniel wrote the book during
the 6th century b.c. when he was an exile in Babylon. This belief was based
primarily on the last six chapters of the book, which are 1st person
accounts of visions and revelations that Daniel received. However, the first
six chapters are narrative stories about Daniel and his friends in the royal
court, and are told in the 3rd person, but were presumed to have been
written by Daniel, who also compiled everything into this single book.
With the rise of critical scholarship in the 18th century, many scholars
began to question the tradition of Daniel’s authorship. The result of this
suspicion and corresponding inquiry is that most critical scholars today
think the book was written by an anonymous group of Jews in Palestine
during tumultuous events of the early 2nd century b.c., events that involved
Antiochus IV Epiphanes [2nd century b.c. Seleucid king], that then led to
the Maccabean revolt. Critical scholars point to “the insightful” [Daniel
11:33–35; 12:3] as those who wrote the book, but who they were is
extensively debated. Some scholars suggest they were not Judean Jews,
but Diaspora Jews. Although this critical view developed in the 18th
century, it was actually Porphyry [3rd century Tyrian Neoplatonic
philosopher] who first proposed the 2nd century b.c. date for the book.
Thus, a variety of factors drove this theory, but the most significant were
supposed historical difficulties in the first half of the book along with the
type of prophecy in the second half of the book. In other words, these
supposed historical difficulties seem to show that the book was not written
in the 6th century b.c., while at the same time the precision of the
prophecies conveniently places the book in the 2nd century b.c. period.
Thus, critical scholars propose that the book utilizes a literary device
known as vaticinium ex eventu prophecy [or “speaking after the event”
prophecy], which involves a so–called prophet casting history in the form
of a prophecy. So, in the case of Daniel’s book, the purpose of such a
device would have been to trace God’s hand through history in order to
encourage a suffering audience that God was also in control of their
oppressive present and uncertain future. Thus, the book prophesied history
from the time of Persia [later in Daniel 11:2] until some point during the
reign of Antiochus IV Epiphanes in the 2nd century b.c. Then the book
supposedly shifts from such quasi–prophesying to genuine prophecy that
predicted the future! This kind of prophecy is necessarily pseudonymous.

So, if history is being cast in the form of a prophecy, then the author acting
as a so–called prophet must predate the historical period being surveyed.
For example, if a 21st century author were to write a prophecy of the entire
period of the United States, the author might put the prophecy in the mouth
of a credible well–known figure [like George Washington], who could
have foretold the events, and the so–called prophecy should be spot on
until it reaches the pseudonymous author’s own time, when any future
events would be genuinely predictive and likewise subject to error. Thus,
although this is unusual to us, this genre is known in ancient Near Eastern
literature, lending support to the theory that a 2nd century b.c. authorship of
Daniel’s book could have presented history in this way, and when the
survey reached its own time, the genuine prophecy did not turn out
accurately. Unfortunately and uncharitably, this critical view is often
reduced to the claim that critical scholars do not believe in genuine
predictive prophecy. In other words, it is presumed that they do not think a
6th century b.c. author could have accurately predicted the events of the
next several centuries. This is certainly the belief of many critical scholars,
but it is an unfair characterization of all scholars sympathetic to the 2nd
century perspective. Yes, critical scholars who have a high view of
inspiration and authority disagree on the date of Daniel’s book. A key
issue for late–date scholars is the anomalous nature of the final prophecy
given in Daniel 11. Unlike other biblical prophecies, Daniel 11 reads like a
history book without proper nouns. Such uncharacteristic precision and
detail prompt scholars to ask if the chapter would be better understood as
something other than typical biblical prophecy. For these scholars, it is not
a question of whether God could reveal the future in such a way, but rather
would he? What purpose would such extensive detail have served Daniel’s
immediate audience? What meaning would it have held for them? So,
scholars who hold the 6th century b.c. date for the book sometimes argue
that ex eventu prophecy and pseudonymous literature are deceptive and
incompatible with the nature of God, and inappropriate genres for inspired
scripture. However, it is not clear from the evidence available to us that the
genre was, in fact, deceptive; it is possible that everyone understood how it
worked and accepted it for what it was. In other words, pseudonymity may
have been a way to root the perspective of the literature in a particular
theological tradition. In this case, it would not have been a matter of
assigning authority to an undeserving or fraudulent text; rather, it was
placing a text within an accepted theological tradition.
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Furthermore, who are we to argue what genres God would and would not
use? If ex eventu pseudonymous prophecy was an acceptable genre in that
time and place, then our task as modern readers is to try to understand it,
not judge its appropriateness and presume what God’s intentions are.
Bruce Metzger [20th century biblical scholar] says: “Instead of beginning
with declarations of what is licit and what is illicit, one is likely to make
more progress by considering the theological problem from a historical
and literary point of view. It must be acknowledged that the inspiration of
the scriptures is consistent with any kind of form of literary composition
that was in keeping with the character and habits of the speaker or writer.
Whatever idiom or mode of expression he would use in ordinary speech
must surely be allowed him when moved by the Holy Spirit. Rhetoric,
poetry, drama, allegory, saga, legend, or any other form of serious
discourse that would be rightly understood in a merely human production,
cannot be excluded on a priori grounds from one divinely inspired. Even
the most rigorously formulated doctrine of inspiration would admit that
the dramatic composition of the book of Job and the Song of Songs
ascribes to historical personages discourses not literally uttered by them.”
James Hamilton [21st century biblical scholar] by contrast sternly retorts:
“The issue now under consideration is the moral and ethical problem
created by the suggestion of a late date for Daniel. Some more evangelical
interpreters seem to regard questions of date and historicity as matters of
indifference, but these issues are not morally neutral. Put bluntly, a late
date for Daniel demands an author who was a scoundrel of a high order.
A late date for Daniel requires some later author setting out to deceive his
audience, creating in them the impression that things he knew had already
taken place were actually being predicted. His purpose in creating this
impression was to give himself the moral standing with his audience
necessary for him to call them to suffer and die for the cause he
advocated; when he knew all along that his claims were false. Imagine the
level of cynicism involved in such a project. The author knew he was not
giving actual predictions. He knew he was being deceptive. He knew he
was calling people to lose their lives, and he knew he was calling them to
take on impossible odds in a campaign whose foundation he knew to be
false. This cannot be compared to a situation where authors engage in
fictional projects in which they intend to tell the truth and inspire readers,

along the lines of what J. R. R. Tolkien or J. K. Rowling have
accomplished. No one reading those books thinks that this world is
Middle–earth or that there really is a Hogwarts out there somewhere. By
contrast, the book of Daniel is set in the world as we know it. The author
gives no indication that his intention is to teach by means of a fictional
presentation. He claims to represent the real world, the world as the bible
describes it. Faithfulness to Yahweh was the foundation of the Maccabean
resistance (1 Macc. 1:54–63). Old man Maccabee and his sons were
willing to die rather than be defiled with the pig flesh of Antiochus (1
Macc. 2:15–38, 50). The author of 1 Maccabees presents father
Mattathias on his deathbed exhorting his sons to remember what God had
done for previous generations of Israelites: Abraham, Joseph, Phineas,
Joshua, Caleb, David, Elijah (1 Macc. 2:51–58), and then appealing to the
examples found in the book of Daniel: ‘Hananias, Azarias and Misael,
because of their faith, were saved from fire. Daniel, by his simplicity, was
rescued from the mouth of lions’ (1 Macc. 2:59–60). The author of 1
Maccabees presents Mattathias as exhorting his sons to risk their lives
the same way that Daniel and his friends did, and for the same reasons:
because Yahweh is more important than life, because Yahweh’s power
trumps death. For this argument to work, Mattathias, the author of 1
Maccabees, and the audience of 1 Maccabees had to believe that Daniel
and his friends belonged with biblical heroes of the faith and that the book
of Daniel described what really happened. No one risks his life for fables,
legends and myths, and cruel would be the father who exhorted his sons to
do so. Was it a deception? Did some pseudonymous author successfully
deceive everyone from Mattathias, father of Judas Maccabeus, to Jesus of
Nazareth? I find it historically implausible, yea impossible, to imagine that
someone could so successfully sell such a despicable deception. The
proposed pseudonymous author of the supposedly forged and false book of
Daniel could never have hoped to have been so wildly successful that not
until Porphyry (3rd century) would anyone suspect what he had done, and
then not until the modern age would it be widely recognized that he had
duped the vast majority of those exposed to his fabrications. This moral
issue has implications that go beyond what we should think of the author
who would attempt such a scam to what we should do with his book. Those
who conclude that the book of Daniel is a forgery should not print it in the
Protestant canon, esteeming and treasuring it, but should rather repudiate
it as repugnant. If it is a forgery, a fraud used to compel people to risk
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their lives for the sake of falsehood, even to the point of having their
babies hanged and whole families put to death (1 Macc. 1:61), then we
should regard this book the way we would respond to a book by some
WWII era propagandist who encouraged Japanese soldiers that the
honour of the emperor mattered more than their lives, so they should fight
to the death for the emperor, crying out ‘banzai’ (or ‘may you live 10,000
years’). We would not venerate such literature but scorn it for its narrow,
benighted, devastating perspective. Its only value would in such a case
derive from the limited, slanted, ultimately false historical information to
be found in it. Issues of authorship and historicity very much affect the
theological meaning of the book of Daniel.”
Thus, scholars like Hamilton demonstrate an either/or view of the book’s
authorship: either it was entirely written in the 6th century b.c. by Daniel,
or it was entirely written by a “scoundrel” in the 2nd century b.c.
Nevertheless, in actuality, many scholars who hold to the late–date view
actually do not think that a 2nd century author composed the exilic stories
in Daniel 1–6, but instead incorporated much older stories that had been
circulating for some time, which could very well have reflected historical
circumstances. In other words, late–date scholars do not necessarily
consider the narratives fiction, as Hamilton implies! So, the issue of
ancient genres is complex, as is that of an ancient book’s composition. We
simply lack sufficient evidence to be able to say with confidence how the
biblical books came to be written and assembled into what we read in our
bibles today. Much of the evidence behind the process has been lost to us.
We can only assess the text we have in order to determine its author,
original audience, and the thoughts of both. The process is not an exact
science by any means. So, was Daniel a prophet? Yes, if you believe the
affirmation of Jesus [Matthew 24:15]. Also, did Daniel have to write every
word of the book that bears his name? No. This is not even the standard in
modern book production! Anonymous editors often tweak, rearrange,
rewrite, and even delete an author’s words.
Michael Heiser [21st century biblical scholar] says: “Because the bible says
quite clearly that scripture is ‘God–breathed’ (2 Timothy 3:16), Christians
tend to think of inspiration as some sort of otherworldly event. I’ve heard
some pretty strange explanations of inspiration—about how God took
control of the hand and mind of the writer, or how the authors slipped into

a heaven–sent trance state, or how the Spirit whispered the precise words
into their minds (or maybe just ‘impressed’ them into their consciousness).
Frankly, all of that sounds more like an episode of the X–Files than
biblical theology, and it absolutely doesn’t reflect what we actually find
in scripture about inspiration. There are some transparent examples of
why the ‘paranormal event’ view of inspiration makes no sense. There are
four gospels in the New Testament. Three of them (Matthew, Mark, and
Luke) overlap with respect to the events they include about the life of
Jesus, but those events may be dissimilar in the level of detail (Matthew
4:1–11; Mark 1:12–13) or arranged in a different sequence (Matthew
10:1–4; Mark 3:13–19; Luke 6:12–15). Dialogue within shared episodes
also diverges in vocabulary, length of statements, and who speaks when,
and even when the dialogue appears identical in English, it isn’t. In the
Greek text writers can use different words, verb tenses, noun cases,
conjunctions, and so on. If the stories of Jesus were ‘whispered’ to the
writers or downloaded into their semiconscious minds, divergences like
these are the last thing we should expect. Would the Holy Spirit really
want to yank our theological chains like that? I doubt it. There are a lot of
other phenomena in the biblical text that tell the careful reader quite
clearly that inspiration wasn’t an event, like signs of editing. For example,
in Ezekiel 1:1–4, here we see that v. 1 uses the 1st person in two instances.
The 1st person language creates the expectation that Ezekiel is writing
about himself. But, in v.3, there is a switch to the 3rd person. Now the
writer is clearly not Ezekiel, but is an anonymous author referring to
Ezekiel in the 3rd person. Then v. 4 switches back to 1st person again.
These switches are the tell–tale signs of an editor. The Holy Spirit is not
suffering from schizophrenia. This material is clearly not dictated or
downloaded or automated. While God does speak to people in scripture,
the passages that describe how biblical authors produced their texts never
cast it in anomalous terms. Scripture is the result of divine influence and
the very normal human activity of speaking and writing (2 Peter 1:16–21).
Writers report events and record feelings. They build arguments. They
express themselves in poetry. They use sources. They borrow thoughts.
They (or other hands that follow) rewrite and refine what was written.
Authors are sensitive to genre, structure, literary devices, word choice,
poetic parallelism, and narrative art. There is wordplay, irony, and
premeditated structuring of plot. The biblical books are the result of work
and careful thought. They were not slapped together. No part of any
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biblical book just happened out of the blue. God’s role is no less
significant and intentional. God chose a wide range of people and
providentially prepared them for the moment he would prompt them, either
by his Spirit or by someone else’s influence, to write something down for
the benefit of God’s people (or to collect and edit material from a
prophetic figure). God put them in situations that would lead to the need
for them to write the message God wanted preserved. He didn’t need to put
them into a trance and manipulate their fingers. They didn’t need hand–
holding (or mind control). They were his instruments, not his puppets. Why
does any of this matter? Because minimizing (or denying) the humanity
behind biblical authorship is a surefire way to undermine the doctrine of
inspiration. Explaining the bible as something dispensed from a super–
intelligent deity from out of the ether is irreconcilable with what we see in
it. On the other hand, defining inspiration as a long process guided
unfailingly by God’s providence helps account for the phenomena of
scripture. Embracing the humanity of the bible is enormously helpful for
understanding what’s actually in the bible—in terms of both its
‘untidiness’ and its artistry.”
Thus, Daniel could have recorded the events that happened to him and
passed them on to other faithful followers, who also could have tweaked,
rearranged, rewrote, and even deleted elements.
John Walton [21st century ancient Near Eastern scholar] also says:
“Another aspect of prophetic literature that is important to the discussion
of biblical authority is the relationship between prophecy and fulfilment.
When we read some of the New Testament passages that identify Jesus as
the fulfilment of an Old Testament prophecy, it is not uncommon that we
sense a bit of a disconnect concerning how what the prophet said is
related to what the apostle claims. What implications are carried by the
term ‘fulfilment’? Is the claim being made that the prophet knew of Jesus
by virtue of his inspiration? Some believe that Luke 24:27, 44 affirm this
view. Are the apostles revealing the true meaning of the prophets’ words?
Is inerrancy threatened if readers conclude that Jesus and the apostles
were teaching the right doctrine from the wrong texts? These are matters
of great dispute among evangelical scholars. Some are content to believe
that Jesus and the apostles are simply using the hermeneutical methods of
the day that gave significant freedom in associating a prophecy with a

proposed fulfilment. Others insist that Jesus and the apostles are drawing
out the true meaning of the prophets, a meaning that was always there to
be seen. Those in the latter group sometimes bring inerrancy into the
discussion, suggesting that if what has been identified as a fulfilment is not
what the prophet was talking about, the apostle or Jesus would therefore
be guilty of error. Any discussion of inerrancy related to prophecy and
fulfilment must be based on a realistic understanding of the roles of the
prophet and of the apostle. Prophets were the spokespersons for deity.
Their messages pertained at times to the past, to the present or to the
future. They were not soothsayers; they proclaimed the plan of God. If
they were truly speaking words from God, then surely their words carried
authority and, to the extent they pertained to the future, would be
accomplished. It was natural, moreover, to believe that God may have
more in mind than what had been communicated. At the same time, their
messages were intended to have meaning and significance to their
immediate audience. That contemporary message carried authority. To
use our speech–act terminology, the prophets’ locutions were words given
by God. They had particular illocutions associated with those locutions
that resulted in perlocutions for their immediate audience. When the
apostles identify fulfilment of those prophecies, they are introducing a new
illocution. It may or may not be tied to the illocutions the prophets had in
their contemporary context, but that does not matter. The apostles have
their own recognized authority, and their illocutions are manifestations of
that authority. The apostles are not necessarily trying to shed light on the
illocutions of the prophets, though at times their illocutions may do so. In
this way of thinking, we can see that fulfilment (identified by the apostles)
is not the same thing as the message proclaimed by the prophets and
doesn’t offer itself as being the same. The prophet and the apostle are both
authority figures, and their messages are considered to carry authority.
The claim of those identifying fulfilment is related to the locution of the
prophet, which is now being given a different though possibly related
illocution. In this understanding, inerrancy does not come into the
discussion. The apostle cannot be in error in his handling of the prophecy
because he has the freedom his authority gives him to break new ground.
He doesn’t assume anything about what the prophet knew or did not know
about how his prophecy might unfold. The prophet’s revelation is found
in his message, not in the fulfilment of his message. The apostle’s
revelation is found in the unfolding of the prophet’s locution into a
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fulfilment. That revelation, like any revelation, cannot be errant or
inerrant—it is what it is: revelation. In contrast to some others, we do not
believe that we can reliably imitate what the apostles are doing because
their task is rooted in their authority (which we do not possess).
Consequently, any of our suggestions about fulfilment would be only
suggestions with no authority. We have now affirmed that both the
prophets and the apostles are authority figures and that the compilation of
their prophetic oracles and identifications of fulfilment respectively are
extensions of their authority. How does inerrancy come into the picture?
Inerrancy would first affirm that the prophets were real people existing in
a real past. Second, it would affirm that the recorded oracles reliably
represent the prophet’s spoken oracles (or those added by his followers
should there be any). Third, it would affirm that these oracles were indeed
God’s revelation through the prophet, not the prophet’s own imagination.
Finally, inerrancy would assert that the oracles gave an accurate
representation of God and his plan. Inerrancy would offer no
information about ‘authorship’ or about fulfilment. With regard to the
apostles, the inerrancy of their proclamations of fulfilment cannot be
falsified. Since we believe that the apostles have authority, we accept their
identification of fulfilment. Inerrancy would not relate to whether the
fulfilment matched what the prophet had originally said because such
exposition is not the role of the apostle and not necessarily his intention. It
is interesting that inerrancy is most often invoked in connection with the
question of whether a prophet actually gave information about specific
people before they were on the scene. Thus, Isaiah’s prophecy concerning
Cyrus (Isaiah 44:28; 45:1) and Daniel’s prophecies concerning the
Hellenistic period (Daniel 11) have become the main centers of attention.
Inerrancy is invoked to insist that since Isaiah lived in the 8th century and
Cyrus did not come until the 6th century, we have evidence of God giving
his prophet information far in advance. This is then used to undergird
theological assertions about the nature of prophecy, the nature of the
prophet and even the nature of God (proving his knowledge and control of
the future). All of this is loaded on the back of inerrancy. These
interconnections, however, are based on the firm belief that the bible
makes a claim that the 8th century Isaiah had sole responsibility for the
biblical book. We have seen that given what we know of literary
production in the ancient world—of the way that oral communication was
eventually preserved by scribes in documents that later were combined

into literary compositions—the reference to Isaiah identifies him as the
fountainhead of the oracles whose authority is behind the book. That is a
different sort of claim. Let us be clear: we are not suggesting that the
Cyrus oracles were not the work of 8th century Isaiah. Scepticism is not the
point here. God is able to give specific information to prophets centuries
in advance should he choose to do so. We firmly believe that he knows the
future and controls it. Inerrancy, however, is not the way to bolster those
beliefs because the bible does not make ‘authorship’ claims as clearly as
we thought. We should feel no compulsion to posit the source of the Cyrus
oracles as 8th century Isaiah, though he may well have been. It is simply
not an issue for inerrancy to decide. The oracle would have authority, and
we could even say the authority of Isaiah, even if it was an oracle spoken
by one of his disciples closer to the time of Cyrus. The authority is
recognized by the community. If they extended the authority of the 8th
century prophet to his followers and included them together in one literary
composition, we accept their judgment by faith even as we accept their
judgment about the authority of Isaiah himself. We likewise validate the
judgment of those who recognized the authoritative status of the eventual
compilation of this collection of oracles into the complex literary work we
call ‘Isaiah.’ This same approach can be used for the book of Daniel. We
affirm that there was a real Daniel who lived in the 6th century and served
in the courts of kings from the time of Nebuchadnezzar to the time of
Cyrus. We accept that the narratives about his life reflect real events in a
real past, though, as always, reported through the accepted conventions
for narrative in that time. These narratives would likely have existed in
individual documents for some time before being compiled into the literary
work that we know. We have a different set of claims, however, regarding
the oracles of Daniel than we had with Isaiah. In Daniel 7, the vision is
reported by someone else (Daniel 7:2), but is then reported in the 1st
person. In chapters 8–10 the oracular experiences are presented in the 1st
person with no recognized outside reporter, though Daniel 10:1 does refer
to Daniel in the 3rd person. Chapter 11 makes no explicit claims, but
chapter 12 picks up again with Daniel from v. 4 on. As before, we are not
trying to sort out which parts should be attributed to whom. We are quite
willing to proceed on faith rather than scepticism with regard to God’s
willingness and ability to give the specific details of the Hellenistic period
to Daniel in the 6th century. The question concerns how clearly that claim
is made. Is it possible that a follower of Daniel some centuries later
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expanded Daniel’s oracle in chapter 10 to include the details in chapter
11? We could not rule it out. Whether the oracle was given two centuries
before the events or two months before the events would make little
difference. The more significant question concerns whether the oracle is
in the category of vaticinu ex eventu (‘speaking after the event’), a genre
that treats part of the past as if it were still future as a basis for then
making a few statements about what the near future will bring. This is a
complex genre question. Remember that genres cannot be true or false,
errant or inerrant; they are what they are. If such a genre was recognized
in the ancient world and readers would have understood the nature of that
genre, it would be perfectly legitimate for a communicator to use that
genre. It would not be considered deceptive if there were a common
understanding of how the genre worked. But, the genre question is far
from settled, and we cannot try to settle it here. We can only say that if by
virtue of a recognized genre (like vaticinu ex eventu) a book spoke of the
past as the future, we could not invoke inerrancy to claim otherwise. Much
work would still have to be done to make such claims, but the issue itself is
not truly in the purview of inerrancy. If vaticinu ex eventu was recognized
as a legitimate genre, authority would be viewed in light of the
conventions of the genre.”
Nevertheless, the 6th century date for Daniel’s book is nonetheless
plausible in light of extensive scholarship. Here are some examples:
1. The Testimony of Jesus
There is a statement about a “destructive desolation” that would be
carried out in the latter days [later in Daniel 12:11]. Jesus in his
Olivet Discourse referenced this concerning the 70 a.d. destruction
of the Temple [Mark 13:14]. But, Jesus emphasises that this was
“mentioned by the prophet Daniel” [Matthew 24:15]. Thus, Jesus
viewed Daniel as the author of these words from the final chapter
of his book, and that this final section of Daniel’s book was not
fulfilled by Antiochus IV Epiphanes in the 2nd century b.c.
2. Evidence from Qumran
Portions of Daniel have surfaced among the documents from
Qumran, which suggests a date well before the Maccabean era.

R. K. Harrison [20th century biblical scholar] confirms and says:
“The dating of Daniel can now be settled at least negatively as a
result of manuscript discoveries from the Dead Sea caves.
Fragments from 1Q, along with some complete scrolls of Daniel
from other caves, have testified to the popularity of the work at
Qumran. A florilegium recovered from 4Q spoke, like Matthew
24:15, of ‘Daniel the prophet,’ furnishing eloquent 2nd century
b.c. testimony to the way in which the book was revered and cited
as scripture. Since all the Qumran fragments and scrolls are
copies, the autograph of Daniel and other Old Testament canonical
works must of necessity be advanced well before the Maccabean
period if the proper minimum of time is allowed for the book to be
circulated and accepted as scripture. Precisely how much earlier
than the Maccabean period is, of course, the point at issue. Here
again the Qumran material provides invaluable assistance. When
1Q was excavated, two of the three fragments of Daniel recovered
from the site proved to be related paleographically to the large
Isaiah manuscript (1QIsaa). Since the book of Isaiah comes from a
time several centuries prior to the earliest date to which 1QIsaa can
be assigned on any grounds, it follows that the autograph of
Daniel also must be several centuries in advance of the
Maccabean period. From Cave 4 was also recovered a
fragmentary 2nd century b.c. copy of the Psalter (4QpPs 37), and
this document showed that the collection of canonical psalms had
already been fixed by the Maccabean period. On the basis of this
evidence alone, scholars have now assigned to the Persian period
psalms which were once confidently acclaimed as unquestionably
Maccabean in origin. It is now clear from the Qumran
manuscripts that no part of the Old Testament canonical literature
was composed later than the 4th century b.c. This means that
Daniel must of necessity be assigned to some point in the Neo–
Babylonian era (626–539 b.c.), or a somewhat later period. If,
following Near Eastern annalistic practices, the events and visions
were recorded shortly after their occurrence, the book may well
have been written progressively over a lengthy period of time,
being finally collated by Daniel in the closing phases of his life,
and perhaps being rounded out then or a little later by such final
verses as Daniel 1:21; 6:28; and 7:28. However, at the latest the
7
book of Daniel seems to have been in its extant form—whether
from the hand of the author or a slightly later editor—not later
than 450 b.c. There can no longer be any reason for considering
the book as a Maccabean product.”
Although Qumran scholars disagree with Harrison’s dating of the
florilegium [4Q174], where paleographically the manuscript is
dated early in the 1st century, his point remains concerning the
other documents found at Qumran. For example, here is 4QDanc
that is dated to 125 b.c., the oldest Daniel fragment from Qumran:
So, to insist on a late date for Daniel’s book around 165–164 b.c.
means that it must have been quickly read and approved by the
Jewish scribes and priests [where copies were made] and then these
copies somehow found their way into the Qumran community
where they were also recopied, all by no later than 125 b.c.
Furthermore, there is another crucial apocalyptic text at Qumran
that further helps us date Daniel’s book. This is 1 Enoch, and
scholars conclude that it is a composite work, originally written in
Aramaic [or possibly partly in Aramaic and partly in Hebrew]. The
Book of the Watchers [1 Enoch 1–36] is one of the oldest portions,
and scholars have dated it up to the 4th century b.c.
James Charlesworth [21st century 2nd Temple scholar] explains:
“Quite surprisingly the members of the Enoch Seminar agreed on
the probable date of the earliest composition among the books of
Enoch. The consensus is now that the Book of the Watchers was

composed by the early Hellenistic period and may reflect the
struggles of the Diadochi after the death of Alexander the Great in
323 b.c.e. Thus, the writings now called the books of Enoch
originated before 200 b.c.e, and conceivably as early as the end of
the 4th century b.c.e.”
For example, 1 Enoch 14:18–22 has a direct parallel to Daniel 7:9–
10. So, the crucial question is: which came first? Was Daniel
dependent on 1 Enoch, or was 1 Enoch dependent on Daniel?
Roger Beckwith [21st century 2nd Temple scholar] answers:
“Striking are the links between the vision of God in Daniel 7:9–10
and that in 1 Enoch 14:18–22, though in the latter passage the
chariot vision of Ezekiel 1 and 10, where the divine throne is of
crystal and is carried by the cherubim, is also drawn upon. This
passage of Enoch is found in the Qumran Aramaic in three little
fragments, each containing only one or two words, sufficient to
show that the Aramaic wording is not identical with that of
Daniel, but that the meaning is the same. The anthropomorphisms
of Daniel are avoided in Enoch: God is not ancient of days, and
does not have hair like pure wool, nor could anyone draw nigh to
minister to him, and Enoch is careful to add the apologetic
observation ‘yet he needed no counsellor.’ These rather
sophisticated features suggest that the dependence is on the side
of Enoch. The fact that Enoch draws also upon Ezekiel suggests
the same thing, and when one considers the general literary and
spiritual quality of Daniel, as compared with Enoch, the
widespread assumption that Daniel took Enoch for a model is
seen to be implausible. Rather, Enoch took Daniel for a model,
and the whole pseudonymous apocalyptic literature which followed
in the wake of Enoch presupposed the existence of Daniel—a work
of far greater worth, and a contender for a place in the recognised
Jewish canon of scripture. Enoch was a standard text at Qumran,
and was probably part of an interpretative appendix to the national
canon, recognised by the Qumran school of thought, though not
regarded by them as actually scripture or quoted in their literature
with the distinctive formulas for scripture. There is another
parallel in Enoch to the vision in Daniel 7, this time in the Book of
8
Giants (4Q530). The Book of Giants is one of the latest parts of
Enoch: it deals not with the watchers but with their offspring, now
individualised and named, and no manuscript of it is older than the
1st century b.c. It is not one of the alleged writings of Enoch known
to the author of Jubilees 4:17–24. Very likely, the vision here
depends as much on that in the Book of Watchers as it does on
that in Daniel 7, and, like the former, it avoids the
anthropomorphic features of Daniel 7. It also greatly reduces the
number of bystanders, whose presence the author perhaps thinks
unnecessary. But, it would be difficult to agree with Stuckenbruck
that this late and weak passage is the original on which Daniel 7
depends, as he argues.”
So, if 1 Enoch 14 is a conflation of Daniel 7 and Ezekiel 1, then not
only were they pre–Maccabean source material, but they must have
also pre–dated the composition of 1 Enoch 14 before the 4th
century b.c. Thus, Daniel’s book must contain predictive prophecy!
3. Evidence of Persian Loanwords
Daniel’s book contains Old Persian loanwords found in 6th and 5th
centuries b.c. inscriptions, meaning the Aramaic is pre–Hellenistic.
Benjamin Noonan [21st century biblical scholar] says: “There are
23 old Iranian loanwords in Daniel. Phonological evidence
demonstrates that Daniel’s Iranian loanwords belong typologically
to Old Iranian rather than Middle Iranian. This means that they
must have been borrowed before the collapse of the Achaemenid
Empire (prior to 300 b.c.). It is quite likely that Daniel’s Iranian
loanwords were borrowed earlier rather than later during the time
of the Achaemenid Empire because the phonological changes took
place over time. One could try to explain the high percentage of
Old Iranian loans in Daniel as a late literary creation, but it is
unlikely that someone writing so long after the fact would be
capable of inventing such a literary creation. Much of the Old
Iranian terminology found in Daniel would have been forgotten
during the Hellenistic period, as indicated by the fact that the
Greek translators of Daniel did not know what to do with many of
the book’s Old Iranian loans.”

4. Acceptance into the Jewish Canon
If Daniel’s book was a 2nd century b.c. work by an author
attempting to disguise the book as written in the 6th century b.c., it
is extremely unlikely that the Jews would have allowed this to slip
by unnoticed into the Hebrew canon. Certainly they would have
given it the utmost scrutiny before accepting it as God’s word.
5. Ezekiel’s Mention of Daniel
Since Ezekiel’s book is dated by critical scholars to a period much
earlier than the 2nd century b.c., it curiously mentions the name
“Daniel” with a slight variant spelling [Ezekiel 14:14, 20; 28:3],
but this is no more than a stylistic variation. In Daniel’s book it is
spelled dāniyyēʾ l, while in Ezekiel’s book it is spelled dāniʾēl
without the yōḏ consonant. Although there are others with the
name “Daniel” [1 Chronicles 3:1; Ezra 8:2; Nehemiah 10:7], the
spelling is always the same as that in Daniel’s book: dāniyyēʾ l.
Thus, critical scholars claim that dāniʾēl does not refer to a
contemporary of Ezekiel, but to one of the major epic narratives
recovered from ancient Ugarit, the Tale of Aqhat from 1350 b.c.
Like the Kirta Epic, this legend shows close interactions between
the gods and humans in an ancient primeval setting; like the story
of Abraham [Genesis 15:2–3]. A man named dnil [Dan’el, Danil,
or Danilu] is given a son aqht [Aqhat] and he becomes the main
focus of the story. The patriarchal narratives in Genesis reflect a
similar pattern, where the patriarch’s wife is barren, the patriarch
asks God for a child, and God blesses the couple with a child, and
the child born from the barren woman becomes the principal
character of the ongoing narrative [Genesis 25:21; 30:22–24].
Furthermore, the legend presents Dan’el as a wise judge who:
“arose and sat by the entrance to the gate, beneath the trees which
were by the threshing floor. He tried the case of the widow, he
judged the cause of the orphan” [KTU 1.17]. However, carefully
reading the legend also reveals that Ezekiel would not have
labelled Dan’el as “righteous” since he was involved in vengeful
curses, violent rage, drunkenness, an assassination plot, and was a
dedicated idol–worshiper occupied with blood sacrifices to El,
Baal, and other pagan gods for weeks at a time. Furthermore,
Dan’el was never understood to be generally wise.
9
So, notice that Ezekiel highlights three men that were well–known
for their righteousness before God: Job, Noah, and Daniel. Thus,
since Ezekiel was living in Babylonia in 593 b.c., which was ~12
years after Daniel arrived in 605/604 b.c., obviously Ezekiel was
referring to his already famous contemporary in exile.
Daniel Block [21st century biblical scholar] confirms and says:
“This interpretation is not as convincing as it appears. The weight
of the orthographic evidence should not be overestimated since
dnyʾl and dnʾl are variant spellings of the same name, and the
fuller form Da–ni–èl is attested in the 18th century b.c. Mari
Letters. Furthermore, every member of Ezekiel’s audience would
have known that, even though Noah and Job were not Israelites,
the God they worshiped was Yahweh (Genesis 8; Job 1; 42). Too
little is known about the Ugaritic Dan’el to impose him on
Ezekiel, and what is known would hardly have fit his definition of
piety. While the hero of the Aqhat story may have gained a
reputation as a just ruler, he is a pagan, worshiping a foreign god,
much more at home with the Canaanites and more like Ezekiel’s
audience than the people of Yahweh as the prophet envisions them.
To see in him an internationally renowned paragon of virtue and
devotion to Yahweh is too large a leap and probably wishful
thinking—a way to avoid having to deal with Ezekiel’s Daniel.”
Thus, there was no other Daniel that Ezekiel could have had in
mind than the man carefully portrayed in Daniel’s book as a model
of integrity and righteousness. This strongly bears witness to the
fact that Daniel was well known to Ezekiel as a historical figure,
because they were both exiles in Babylon, and it is this Daniel who
was also the author of a book that likewise bore his name.
6. Implications of the Roman Empire in Daniel’s Prophecies
The Roman Empire is prophetically included in a series of empires
[later in Daniel 2 and 7], which pushes the future scope past the
Maccabean period. But, critical scholars claim that, in the series of
empires, the 3rd empire is Media and the 4th empire is the
Hellenistic kingdoms, which obviously excludes the Roman
Empire. But, traditionally, the 2nd empire was Media with Persia.

This means the 4th empire in the list was the Roman Empire, and it
did arise after the time of Antiochus IV Epiphanes, which creates a
great difficulty for critical scholars. In other words, by their own
reasoning, since they conclude that Daniel’s book was written in
165 b.c., this ironically predates the rise to power of the Roman
Empire. Thus, critical scholars are forced to conclude that Daniel’s
book has predictive prophecy even via the late–date hypothesis!
In summary, although late–date proponents situate Daniel’s book in the
Maccabean era, with the earliest possible date being a few years after the
desolation of the Temple in 167 b.c., based on what late–date proponents
consider to be erroneous predictions about the career of Antiochus IV
Epiphanes after his heinous actions against the Jews [later in Daniel
11:40–45], the manuscript evidence found at Qumran indicates that
Daniel’s book was considered sacred as early as the late–2nd century b.c.,
or no more than ~50 years after its proposed completion during the
Maccabean years! In other words, Daniel’s book was revered long before
the Qumran community tucked itself away in the Judean desert. Thus, the
accounts in Daniel’s book reflect events that happened to a real person
during the Babylonian exile in the 6th century b.c., and that his prophecies
are indeed accurate. However, the question of who compiled the book,
what editorial work they might have done in it, and when that happened,
cannot be definitively answered.
The Question of Genre
Daniel’s book looks less like one of God’s prophets and more like the
model of a biblical wise man navigating the challenges of life in
accordance with God’s law! This is especially true in the narrative
accounts of Daniel and the three Judeans serving with him in the foreign
court [Daniel 1–6]. These stories are often classified as court stories, and
they fit within a storytelling genre of the ancient Near East. In other words,
court stories presented wise and pious captives who were working and
thriving in the courts of foreign kings, and these stories usually follow one
of two plotlines: either they recount a conflict in the royal court [a
situation in which the hero of the story faces danger on account of his
character or faith], or they detail a contest in the court [an event in which
the hero faces and solves a challenging problem that stumps the royal
experts]. When the captive courtier demonstrates superior wisdom to that
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of the king’s staff, the king rewards him/her handsomely. The popularity
of this genre in the ancient Near East is evident from the widespread
distribution of Ahiqar, a folktale that was originally polytheistic. The
earliest fragmentary text, written in Aramaic, was discovered in
Elephantine [Egypt] and dates to the 5th century b.c. The great diffusion of
Ahiqar is reflected in its many versions, including Syriac, Armenian,
Arabic, and Greek [thought to exist but not yet found]. Ahiqar is composed
of two main parts: the “framework story” and the “sayings of Ahiqar.”
Scholars believe that the two parts of the book were originally written
around the 7th century b.c when Ahiqar served as one of the senior officers
in the court of the Assyrian kings Sennacherib and his son Esarhaddon.
Also, there are parallels between Ahiqar and the Old Testament, but this
does not prove that the biblical writers were familiar with Ahiqar. Instead,
it proves that wisdom themes were common in the ancient Near East:
1. The shared category of court tale [Daniel 1–6].
2. Similar wise sayings [Proverbs 23:13–14; 30:15–19, 21–31].
3. A saying about riches [Ahiqar 10:9 and Jeremiah 9:23].
4. A common pig–feeding motif [Ahiqar 8:34 and Luke 15:15].
5. A common wolf–as–enemy motif [Ahiqar 2:30 and Isaiah 11:6;
65:25; Matthew 7:15; 10:16; Luke 10:3; Acts 20:29].
Initially, scholars believed that Ahiqar had been translated from the
Akkadian into Aramaic, but modern scholars disagree. The main literary
argument against this theory is the absence of Akkadian or Persian
loanwords in the Aramaic text. Likewise, scholars disagree as to whether
the two parts of Ahiqar come from the same place or region or were
written in different dialects. While most scholars agree that the
“framework story” was written in Imperial Aramaic [700–300 b.c.], the
“sayings of Ahiqar” are often assumed to be older. Thus, elsewhere in the
Old Testament are a collection of such court stories:
1. Joseph thrives in Pharaoh’s court [Genesis 41–42].
2. Esther finds success in the court of Persian Ahasuerus.
3. Nehemiah attains high rank in Artaxerxes’ court [Nehemiah 1–2].
So, while the stories in Daniel fit within the genre of court stories, they do
so loosely and for good reason.

In similar stories, the wise captives are unjustly accused and then proven
innocent in the end. However, in Daniel’s book, they are guilty as charged.
In fact, they are guilty of faithfulness to their God and his law, and their
faithfulness is what causes conflict [later in Daniel 3; 6]. Thus, there is a
basic conflict, which no happy ending may really resolve. The danger of a
new crisis of life and death remains a permanent fixture. This perpetual
sense of danger means that Daniel does not enjoy a successive career
under different kings. In other words, as soon as Daniel succeeds under
one king, a new monarch arises and he has to start over! These plot
deviations draw attention away from the wise Daniel and focuses instead
on God, because God is the central character of Daniel’s book, and these
stories showcase God’s superiority over all other gods as he works through
the wit and wisdom of these exiles. Thus, court stories would have
fostered nationalism among audiences that shared the ethnicity of Daniel
as the captive hero. In other words, cheering the success and superiority of
their compatriot, those who were conquered and exiled would have felt
vicarious pride in Daniel, since he rose to the highest position in Babylon.
John Collins [21st century 2nd Temple scholar] says: “The tales of foreign
advisers exhibit a ruled ethnic perspective and that their message lies not
in the content of the advice but in the exhibition of superior wisdom by a
member of the conquered people. They are affirmations of the enduring
worth, even superiority, of people who have lost political power. To be
sure, this explanation does not fit all court tales (for example, Aḥikar is
not a member of a subject nation), and the importance of the specific
content may vary from tale to tale; but there can be no doubt that ethnic
pride was a major reason why the stories of Esther and Daniel were
preserved. At a time when the Jews were subject to foreign powers,
whether in their own land or in the diaspora, they could take vicarious
pride in the figure of an exile who rose to the highest position in the
kingdom. At the same time, these tales express a basically optimistic view
of the world. Ministers who fall into disgrace can be rehabilitated.
Monarchs who act impetuously will eventually see the folly of their ways.
Most fundamentally, the value of wisdom is affirmed. Wise courtiers will
succeed, even at the court of an alien king.”
Furthermore, these court stories [Daniel 1–6] ironically fits well with an
early date for Daniel, as opposed to a Maccabean date, because court
11
stories do not fit the Maccabean context of Palestine in the 160s b.c., since
there was no royal court, and working in a non–Israelite king’s court
would have been considered treasonous among Jews! This has forced
critical scholars to acknowledge that these court stories in Daniel contains
material that are older than the book, but simultaneously conjecture that
they were then re–edited in the Maccabean period to fit with Daniel 7–12.
However, this is also problematic for the late–date view, because the
evidence for the literary unity of Daniel’s book [combined with the pre–
Maccabean milieu for the court narratives] is a strong argument for the
pre–Maccabean date and Babylonian/Persian milieu for the whole book.
Thus, although the court stories in Daniel exhibit the most textual
similarity with the stories of Joseph in Pharaoh’s court, their thematic
similarity with post–exilic Esther would also have encouraged Diaspora
Jews that God was committed to his people’s survival, regardless of the
threats they faced. So, the court stories of the 2nd Temple period reminded
beleaguered Jews that even though foreign kings raged around them, the
God of Israel was still on the throne, because human power was only
derived, given, and taken away ultimately by God.
The Question of Composition and Structure
The enigmatic nature of Daniel’s genre is matched by its unique use of
languages. The book is written in two languages: Hebrew [Daniel 1:1–2:4;
8:1–12:13] and Aramaic [Daniel 2:4–7:28]. Hebrew was the language of
God’s covenant people, the Jews, whereas Aramaic was the lingua franca
of the Gentile world in Daniel’s day. Thus, it is possible that Aramaic was
used when Daniel focuses on Gentile powers, and Hebrew was used when
Daniel focuses on God’s covenant people and their future. Although some
scholars initially speculated that Daniel 1 and Daniel 7 are translated texts,
recent scholarship has concluded that neither text is a translation, but both
were composed originally in the language in which they now appear.
H. J. M. Van Deventer [21st century biblical scholar] says: “One of the
persistent problems related to the study of the book of Daniel in the
Hebrew Bible is explaining the fact that the book is written in two
languages, viz. Hebrew and Aramaic. Thus, the language division is
dissimilar to the division based on literary type. This gave rise to the
hypothesis that Daniel 1 and/or Daniel 7 might be translated texts. But, no
conclusive grounds for proving such a hypothesis have been presented.”

The Aramaic language takes its name from the Aramean people, or the
people of Aram. As a place name, Aram is found in Old Akkadian writings
at least as early as the middle of the 3rd millennium b.c., referring to the
region of the Tigris north of Elam and east of Assyria.
Frederick Greenspahn [21st century linguistic scholar] further explains:
“Aramaic is usually divided into several dialects, organized according to
chronological and geographic principles. Although several systems have
been proposed for doing this, each with its own idiosyncrasies, their
general structures are quite similar. Our earliest evidence of Aramaic
comes from the Aramaic kingdoms just described. These are said to be
written in ‘Old’ or ‘Ancient’ Aramaic. Among them are several
inscriptions from northern Syria (mostly near the town of Aleppo) that
were written early in the 1st millennium B.C.E. (probably between the 10th
and the 7th centuries). The language of these texts shares a variety of
features with Hebrew, suggesting that the division between the Aramaic
and the Canaanite (Hebrew and Phoenician) branches of Northwest
Semitic was relatively recent. The next period of Aramaic is dominated by
what is called Official, Imperial, or Standard Literary Aramaic because it
served as the official administrative language of the Persian empire from
the 6th to the 4th centuries, although it may have begun to spread somewhat
earlier, under the Assyrians and Babylonians. This is also the dialect
found in the bible, although some scholars assign the book of Daniel to a
later category. Several ancient sources document the growing prevalence
of Aramaic. The bible reports a request by Judean leaders that the
Assyrian army, which was besieging Jerusalem near the end of the 8th
century, use Aramaic so that the people would not understand what they
were saying (2 Kings 18:26 = Isaiah 36:11), suggesting that the leaders of
the time were familiar with it. A century later, when a Philistine ruler
sought assistance from the Egyptian Pharaoh, he wrote in Aramaic,
demonstrating that the language had already achieved a significant role in
international communication. After Judah fell to the Babylonian emperor
Nebuchadnezzar, the Jews adopted the Aramean form of what had
originally been the Phoenician alphabet. It is important to distinguish
between a language and a script; one could, for example, theoretically
write English using the Hebrew, Cyrillic or Japanese scripts, or any other
alphabet for that matter. Some Aramaic texts were written in Egyptian
(demotic) and cuneiform scripts. Interestingly, derivatives of the older
12
script were still used by Jews from time to time, as in coins produced by
the Maccabees and the later rebel leader Bar Kochba as well as some of
the Dead Sea Scrolls. The Arab tribe known as the Nabateans also used an
alphabet that was based on the older letters, as do the Samaritans to the
present day. When Persia, which defeated Babylonia in 539 B.C.E,
adopted Aramaic for official administrative purposes, the language’s
importance grew dramatically. Eventually, the Persian empire stretched
from Egypt to India, ensuring Aramaic’s widespread use and prominence.
Official sponsorship also created a kind of standardization, something
which did not begin to wane until the encroachment of Greek under
Alexander the Great and then, many centuries later, Arabic.”
Thus, since Daniel’s book utilizes official Aramaic, it must have been
composed in the 6th century b.c.
R. K. Harrison [20th century biblical scholar] summarizes the details:
“Daniel’s Hebrew is very similar in character to that of Ezekiel, and is
used when the author deals with God’s people and their destiny in
subsequent centuries. By contrast, Daniel’s Aramaic is employed chiefly
for the description of great world empires. Hebrew terms such as malḵûṯ
(‘royal power,’ ‘reign’), which were once regarded as evidence of late
linguistic usage, were actually used in all periods of the Hebrew
language, and represent a noun pattern found in Akkadian as early as
the 18th century b.c. Again, the expression ’āmar le (‘command to’), which
was formerly thought a late literary form, occurs in Deuteronomy 9:25;
Joshua 22:33; 1 Samuel 30:6 and elsewhere, as well as in the postexilic
works (Nehemiah 9:15, 22). There is therefore nothing in the Hebrew that
would have been foreign to the linguistic experience of a 6th century b.c.
person such as Daniel, who knew both Hebrew and Aramaic. The
influence of the latter language can be seen clearly in the use of the phrase
’ašer lāmmâ to mean ‘least’ (Daniel 1:10). The linguistic evidence once
offered by 19th century scholars for the late composition of Daniel has
undergone sobering modification as the result of archeological discoveries
in the Near East, and not least in relation to the development of Aramaic
as a language. It is now know that ‘Aramaic’ is a rather general term for a
group of Semitic dialects related closely to Hebrew and even more so to
one another. They have been classified by philologists into four groups:
Old Aramaic, Official Aramaic, Levantine Aramaic, and Eastern Aramaic.

Old Aramaic occurred in North Syrian inscriptions from the 10th to the 8th
century b.c., while Official Aramaic was employed increasingly by
Assyrian government officials between 1100 b.c. and 600 b.c., becoming
the language of diplomacy in the Persian period, even though royal
inscriptions were still being inscribed in Old Persian at that time.
Aramaic in written and spoken form, however, goes back much further
than Old Aramaic, being represented in the Ugaritic texts of the Amarna
Age and the linguistic traditions of the Middle Bronze Age (Genesis
31:47). When the Aramaic vocabulary of Daniel is examined, 90% of it
can be attested immediately from West Semitic inscriptions, or papyri
from the 5th century b.c. or earlier. The remaining words have been found
in sources such as Nabatean or Palmyrene Aramaic, which are later than
the 5th century b.c. While it is at least theoretically possible that this small
balance of vocabulary suddenly originated after the 5th century b.c., it is
equally possible to argue from a 5th century b.c. written form to an
earlier oral one. By far the most probable explanation, however, is that
the missing 10% represents nothing more serious than a gap in our
current knowledge of the linguistic situation, which we may confidently
expect to be filled in process of time. The spelling of certain Aramaic
words in Daniel differs somewhat from the usage in Old Aramaic and
Official Aramaic. Where the latter have z, š, q, and ṣ, Daniel (and Ezra)
reads d, t, ‘, and ṭ respectively. Because these variations in Daniel (and
Ezra) also occur in the later Palmyrene and Nabatean Aramaic, as well as
in the Targums, it might be thought possible on orthographic grounds to
place Daniel’s Aramaic somewhat between the Elephantine papyri (5th
century b.c.) and the 2nd century b.c. Aramaic dialects. This supposition
rests on the assumption that the consonantal Aramaic of Daniel underwent
no changes in spelling whatever after it was first written, a position which
would be extremely difficult to justify in the light of what is now known
about the development of the various Aramaic dialects. Not only have
definite orthographic changes been demonstrated from inscriptions and
papyri, but scholars have now become aware of the fact that Aramaic
orthography and phonetics are apt to be at variance with one another on
specific occasions, as sometimes happens in English and other languages.
Thus, in the Elephantine papyri, while the letter z was substituted for ḏ, the
actual pronunciation was d, as in the Aramaic of Daniel and Ezra. Again,
in 5th century b.c. Egypt, a foreign name such as that of Darius was written
in a way which substituted the traditional hieroglyphic sign ‘t’ for the ‘d’
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to produce Trwš. These and other shifts in spelling and pronunciation
should be sufficient to suggest caution in assuming that there was
uniformity or constancy in the transmission of the Aramaic portions of
Daniel. The presence of Akkadian loanwords is, of course, unexceptional
in a work such as Daniel, considering the cultural milieu from which it
emerged. The same is true of the 19 or so words of Persian origin, some of
which are attested in the Targums. About half of the Persian loan words
occur in Official Aramaic, and in general can be found in 6th to 5th century
b.c. literary sources. It is worth noting that all such Persian terms are Old
Persian in nature, earlier than 300 b.c., a fact which would be consistent
with the linguistic situation of pre–Hellenistic Aramaic. In the light of
Daniel 1:4 it is also a distinct possibility that Daniel both spoke and wrote
in Neo–Babylonian. Since the 3rd person form is characteristic of Daniel
1–7, it may be that at least some sections were originally transcribed in
Neo–Babylonian, particularly the interviews with Nebuchadrezzar. This
may be even more likely if the individual chapters were in the nature of
memoirs compiled by Daniel shortly after the events and visions took
place, a procedure that would be thoroughly consistent with ancient
annalistic practices. Daniel 4 may indicate the manner in which a 1st
person narrative written in cuneiform was modified when rendered into
Aramaic (Daniel 4:19, 28). If this was the case with some of the material
in Daniel 1–7, it would help to explain why, when the passages were
translated into Aramaic and put into the 3rd person, it was necessary for
glosses (such as those in Daniel 2:26; 4:19; 5:12; and 8:15) to have been
inserted. If this supposition is correct, it will indicate that Daniel was
based upon genuine literary sources, not the garbled tales and legends
posited by those scholars who have advocated a Maccabean date for the
book. Neo–Babylonian would certainly have been appropriate for
recording contemporary historical events, since it was the court language
of Nebuchadrezzar, and aside from material involving the king himself it
could also have been used for transmitting such matters as the vision of
Daniel 7, which occurred rather unexpectedly and was quite probably
jotted down immediately after it had taken place. At the same time there
are certain other materials, such as prayers, that would probably have
been written down in Hebrew or Aramaic.”
In summary, the Hebrew/Aramaic terms are characteristic of the 6th
century b.c., and do not represent a late Maccabean date for Daniel’s book.

Furthermore, critical scholars postulate that Daniel 1 and Daniel 7–12
were originally written in Aramaic and only later translated into Hebrew.
However, the lack of any supporting Aramaic manuscripts for these
chapters renders such a theory implausible, and it is also significant that
four Qumran fragments reflect the same Hebrew/Aramaic sections, which
strongly argues that this was the nature of the original autograph.
Peter Flint [21st century 2nd Temple scholar] says: “The four scrolls that
preserve material from the relevant sections (1QDana, 4QDana, 4QDanb,
and 4QDand) support the same transitions from Hebrew to Aramaic and
back again. Although the reasons for having Hebrew and Aramaic
sections in the same book are complex, the scrolls show us that Daniel
existed in this form very early on and was most likely compiled in
Hebrew and Aramaic.”
Eugene Ulrich [21st century 2nd Temple scholar] also says: “It may be
mentioned that the Qumran manuscripts confirm the ancient Hebrew–
Aramaic language distribution of the book familiar from the masoretic
text. 1QDana preserves the shift from Hebrew to Aramaic at 2:4b, and this
is supported by 4QDana, which has a fragment of 1:16–20 in Hebrew and
its next fragment of 2:9–11 in Aramaic. 4QDana and 4QDanb both display
the shift from Aramaic back to Hebrew at 8:1. More broadly, all the
fragments of all eight manuscripts display the expected language in all
preserved passages.”
Eugene Carpenter [21st century biblical scholar] likewise concludes:
“Peter Flint notes that there is an abundance of material about Daniel in
the Dead Sea Scrolls. These finds basically support the Masoretic Text
tradition, but some also witness other traditions closer to the Septuagint or
Theodotion. Eugene Ulrich lists eight manuscripts of Daniel and
fragments from seven other manuscripts. All of the chapters of Daniel are
represented in the biblical manuscripts from Qumran except chapter 12,
which is attested in 4QFlorilegium (Daniel 12:10). Only a few other
books—the Pentateuch, Psalms, Isaiah, 1 Enoch, and Jubilees—have more
manuscript copies preserved at Qumran. This situation is impressive—in
fact, amazing if the book were written around 164 b.c.—for given the
size of Daniel, one would not expect the extent of its presence among the
Dead Sea Scrolls to easily exceed most of the books of the Hebrew Bible.
14
It was accepted as Holy Scripture. It was quoted and alluded to often at
Qumran. Ulrich affirms that the Qumran copies also shift from Hebrew to
Aramaic (2:4b) and from Aramaic back to Hebrew (8:1) and that no
variants reflect sectarian biases—in fact, the variants that are present in
these copies of Daniel indicate virtually nothing of significance. The text
of Daniel was Holy Scripture, not to be changed. As Flint summarizes, this
abundance of Danielic material shows how the content, form, and
individual readings of these manuscripts reflect Daniel closely and assert
convincingly the important and authoritative status Daniel enjoyed among
the Qumran inhabitants. The book of Daniel was regarded as scripture,
and Daniel was regarded as a prophet. The canon appears to have been
closed by the time of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Daniel was part of that
canon, and none of the so–called additions to Daniel (the Prayer of
Azariah, the Song of the Three Young Men, Susanna, and Bel and the
Dragon) are included in the Danielic materials discovered so far. These
apocryphal Danielic stories evidently grew up in Egypt alone.”
Thus, to determine the message of Daniel’s book, it is necessary to
understand its structure and unity. Critical scholars argue that Daniel 7–12
was written after Daniel 1–6 by a Maccabean author, because apparently
Daniel 7–12 fits an apocalyptic genre that did not arise until after the 6th
century b.c. However, not all critical scholars are convinced, and some
argue that Daniel 8–12 are visions that demonstrate eschatology, while
others see apocalyptic elements in Daniel 2–7 that comprises a type of
original Aramaic apocalypse dated to the reign of Antiochus III, so that a
Maccabean author used this older apocalypse during the ongoing Jewish
rebellion against Antiochus IV Epiphanes by supplementing it with new
apocalyptic instructions [Daniel 8–12]. Nevertheless, the tendency in early
scholarship was to see a major break after Daniel 6, which divided the
material between the court stories [Daniel 1–6] and the visions [Daniel 7–
12]. However, some argued that the major break is after Daniel 7 [based
on the concentric arrangement of Daniel 2–7], and others argued that the
major break is after Daniel 5 [based on the theory of an intricate
paralleling structure between Daniel 2–5 and Daniel 6–12]. So, of these
three views, only the concentric arrangement view coincides with the
linguistic division of the book [the Aramaic section in Daniel 2–7 in
contrast to the Hebrew section in Daniel 8–12], and because the linguistic
division is a significant factor, this theory is the most convincing.

Nevertheless, recent scholarship has demonstrated that the structure of the
book is even more complex. In other words, Daniel 2–7 and Daniel 7–12
overlap because Daniel 7 is at the center of both major divisions!
Three reasons support this view of an overlapping structure:
1. It takes into account the linguistic division of the book.
2. It recognizes the concentric structure for Daniel 2–7.
3. It recognizes that Daniel 7 starts a series of four visions to Daniel.
Thus, notice that Daniel 7 is the oddball in this structure, since its genre
fits with what follows [Daniel 8–12] and not with the narrative accounts
[Daniel 1–6]. However, its language matches the preceding chapters, and it
clearly closes this six–chapter chiasm. So, Daniel 7 lies at the heart of the
book, serving as a hinge between its sections and holding them together.
This clear compositional structure involving the languages indicates that
they serve a literary purpose and were not just an accident of translational
history. The Aramaic chapters [Daniel 2–7] focus primarily on events that
transpired in the royal courts of Babylon and later Persia. Since Aramaic
was the language of the court and the broader exilic context, it was used
for the chapters pertaining to life there: the language represented the
people’s experience as foreigners [Daniel 7 is the exception]. But, when
the book shifts to the future promise of the Jews back in their own land of
Israel [Daniel 8–12], it also shifts back to Hebrew. According to this
pattern, we would expect Daniel 1 [the beginning of their time in exile] to
be Aramaic instead of Hebrew.
15
Nevertheless, since it functions as a prologue to the entire book, this
explains the presence of Hebrew there. Furthermore, beyond representing
the life of God’s people among foreigners, the Aramaic chiasm also
furnishes the themes that drive the entire book. While no one who used
chiasm in the ancient world left a manual for its usage, most scholars think
that the center of the chiasm is the focus of the entire structure. Its message
encapsulates the heart of Daniel’s overall message. In the chiasm of Daniel
2–7, the center is shared between Daniel 4–5, two accounts of God
humbling arrogant human kings. Why does God do this to human kings?
Because, as Daniel hammers home for 12 chapters, God alone is
sovereign, and when earthly kings get the wrong idea about their
dominion, God sets them straight. Every human king is subject to God.
The chapters surrounding these central chapters reveal additional truths
about the relationship between the divine and human kings, as well as
illustrating how God’s faithful people should live in the tension that often
exists between the two. In the outer chapters [Daniel 2 and Daniel 7], the
scope is cosmic, both temporally and spatially. The dreams of
Nebuchadnezzar and Daniel highlight the history of human kingdoms to
their ultimate demise before God’s everlasting kingdom.
Nebuchadnezzar’s dream [Daniel 2] focuses on the magnificence and
relative strength of human kingdoms, while Daniel’s dream [Daniel 7]
displays their evil and arrogance. The perspective is all–encompassing.
The chiasm’s middle chapters [Daniel 3 and Daniel 6] provide up–close–
and–personal examples of what God’s people might expect from human
rulers in return for their sole devotion to God. Some kings are overtly
hostile to God’s people because of their faith. Others are impotent and find
themselves trapped by forces greater than their own good intentions. The
witness of God’s followers in these two chapters illustrates how to be
faithful regardless of the national climate and what faithfulness may cost.
The central chapters of the chiasm [Daniel 4–5] revisit the relationship
between divine and human kingship, but with specific examples of two
individual kings who overreached their God–ordained authority. God
humbled each of them, but he did so based on their differing attitudes
toward him and the authority he had bestowed on them. Then Daniel’s
book moves into the apocalyptic visions primarily concerned with the
suffering of God’s people at the hands of foreign kings. The assault against
God and his people in these apocalyptic chapters far exceeds the
opposition mounted by the exilic kings.

Although Daniel was able to influence his overlords for good, God’s
faithful people in these apocalyptic chapters can only endure and remain
faithful, knowing they will enjoy everlasting reward while the wicked
suffer everlasting judgment. In spite of their differing emphases, the
book’s two sections share the themes set out in the Aramaic chiasm:
arrogant human rulers brought low by the sovereign ruler of an everlasting
kingdom and God’s people remaining faithful in the midst of suffering. In
other words, sometimes it is possible to be both faithful to one’s principles
and fully involved in the society. At other times, society can be so hostile
that the principles are trampled on, and the righteous may be crushed. This
parallels the difference in ethos between Paul’s positive view of the
Roman government [Romans 13] and John’s negative view of it
[Revelation 13]. Both situations present challenges and temptations to test
the faithfulness of those seeking to remain true to their vision of God.
Thus, Daniel 7 forms the heart and indivisible center of this unique book.
Structurally, it interlocks the two languages and genres. Thematically, it
ties God’s faithfulness in the past to an uncertain and even ominous future.
In its vision of the Son of Man and the future inheritance of God’s
everlasting kingdom, Daniel 7 casts the book’s first vision of what lies
beyond the suffering ahead, and it gives necessary hope to keep reading
until the reward is finally realized in Daniel 12.
Brennan Breed [21st century biblical scholar] concludes: “Whereas Daniel
1–6 focuses on moral aspects of authority and loyalty, Daniel 7–12
emphasizes the moral dimension of authority as framed by concerns with
sanctity and liberation. Both parts of the book of Daniel concern
themselves with the sovereignty of Yahweh, but their distinct moral
frameworks reveal different understandings of the pressing problems
facing Yahweh’s sovereignty and the appropriate response of the faithful.”
Thus, the events of Daniel’s book fell at a critical time in Israel’s history.
The story that began with God’s creation of a place where humanity would
rule as his vice regent took a sharp turn when the first human rulers
challenged the wisdom and authority of God. In the aftermath of this
autonomous act, rebellion reigned until God, grieved that he had created
humanity at all, wiped the world clean. But, the fresh start with Noah did
not last long enough, so God meted out a new kind of judgment: he
brought an end to humanity’s unfettered rebellion by locking people into
16
their own languages. Unable to understand or be understood, they were
scattered. At some point after this God implemented a new plan for rule in
the world. Moses, in retelling Israel’s early history, says that “when the
Most High gave nations as their inheritance, when he separated the human
race, he set boundaries for the people according to the number of the
gods. For the Lord’s portion is his people; Jacob is his allotted portion”
[Deuteronomy 32:8–9]. These “gods” were members of God’s divine
council and subject to his authority [1 Kings 22:1–18; 2 Chronicles 18:18–
22; Psalm 29:1; 82; 89:6]. However, he reserved one nation for himself.
Israel was small and unimpressive, but since the story is about God and not
Israel, size and splendour did not matter, as beautifully stated by Yoda:
“Size matters not. Look at me. Judge me by my size, do you?”
Thus, at the time God chose his nation, it consisted of just one childless
man and his barren wife, but God covenanted with that man to make him
into a great nation. This nation would live in the land God chose and they
would be a blessing to the world. Through this one man and his
descendants, God was going to reclaim all that the first man, Adam, had
jeopardized by his sin. Humanity would once again rule earth as God’s
righteous representatives, but it would take some time. The ragtag group of
people that descended from Abraham eventually grew into a sizeable
population while living in Egypt. When a paranoid Pharaoh enslaved and
oppressed Abraham’s descendants to keep from being overrun, God
rescued them in an act of covenant faithfulness and brought them into the
land he had promised. Positioned at the crossroads of the ancient world,
Israel was to be a shining example of what it meant to live in right
relationship with God and in community with each other.

However, the recalcitrant nation proved to be less of a blessing to the
world than an embarrassment to God, who eventually judged them by
handing them over to Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon. Exile left God’s
people with great uncertainty about their future and their place in God’s
plan. Thus, Daniel’s book speaks into this uncertainty and affirms that God
was not done with his people. They may have broken the covenant, but in
his faithfulness God would restore them. In fact, Daniel’s book also
reveals that restoration would be much bigger, much farther away, and far
more complicated than anyone imagined. It would not come apart from
great suffering, but when it finally did come, it would be more glorious
than they had anticipated. This restoration awaited the coming of a human
ruler who could fulfil God’s expectations of creation: a vice regent living
in perfect submission to God and subsequently ruling righteously on earth.
When this human figure finally did appear, God’s kingdom was
inaugurated on earth. This figure was Jesus, and he lived his life in perfect
submission to God, which led to his unspeakable suffering, humiliation,
and death, which was not the glorious kingdom his followers anticipated.
His righteous rule over all the earth did not happen. Nevertheless, his
resurrection and ascension proved that he was, indeed, the awaited king,
but the waiting was not quite over. Jesus himself tried to help his disciples
understand there was more to come, and he drew from imagery in Daniel
to do so [Mark 13]. God’s awarding of the nations to Jesus as his
inheritance signified the reclamation of the territories assigned to the other
gods after Babel [Psalm 2:7–8]. However, these unseated authorities
would not take defeat lying down. They would claw and fight until the
reigning Son of Man finally opened the scroll once sealed in Daniel
[Revelation 5]. So, we wait for that day when God’s rule is a full reality.
In summary, by piecing together evidence from the Old Testament,
Daniel likely grew up in a God–fearing home, with parents that were
impacted by the spiritual revival and cultural reforms spearheaded by King
Josiah. Surely it was disheartening for this prominent Jewish family to
watch as Judah’s brief repentance was snuffed out by the wicked kings
Jehoahaz and Jehoiakim. Despite faithful prophets like Jeremiah, the
nation staggered toward certain judgment. Thus, Daniel 1 describes this
regrettable turn of events: Nebuchadnezzar’s conquest of Jerusalem [vv.
1–2] and his conscription of the most gifted and talented Jews to serve in
the royal court in Babylon [vv. 3–7].
17
The balance of the chapter focuses on four young Hebrew teenagers under
duress [vv. 8–16]. Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah were in a
strange land far from home. They had been ripped away from their
families, friends, and beloved religious customs, from all that they had
ever known. Suddenly they were among pagans in a land teeming with
idols and decadence. How would they fare? How would they deal with
emotions like fear and sorrow and anger? Would they keep the faith?
Would they compromise? Would they become bitter? Would they cave in
to despair? Would they rise to the occasion? Thus, Daniel 1 is an
encouraging look at some rare young men of integrity. Here are great
lessons about purity and principle, and here we can learn much about
standing tall and strong in the midst of great trial, and Daniel 1 closes with
these four young men having passed the test. God has honoured their
faithfulness. They are chosen for royal positions [vv. 17–21]. This will
give them a platform for future effectiveness and an international impact!
Bible Passage
Read Daniel 1
Hostages of the Babylonian Captivity
1
In the third year of the reign of King Jehoiakim of Judah, King
Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon came to Jerusalem and laid siege to it.
2
Within a week, the Lord handed King Jehoiakim of Judah over to him,
along with valuable objects from the house of God. Nebuchadnezzar
brought them to the temple of his god in the land of Shinar and stored
them in its treasure house. 3Later, the king ordered Ashpenaz, his chief
officer, to bring in some Israelis of royal and noble descent. 4They were to
be young men without physical defect, handsome in appearance, skilled in
all wisdom, quick to learn, prudent in how they used knowledge, and
capable of serving in the king’s palace. They were to learn the literature
and language of the Chaldeans. 5The king assigned them fine food and
choice wine on a daily basis, ordering them to be trained for three years, at
the end of which time they would enter the king’s service. 6Included
among the people of Judah were Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah.
7
The chief officer assigned the name “Belteshazzar” to Daniel, the name
“Shadrach” to Hananiah, the name “Meshach” to Mishael, and the name
“Abednego” to Azariah.
 18

Daniel Chooses God’s Standard

8
Daniel determined within himself not to become defiled by the king’s
menu of rich foods or by the king’s wine, so he requested permission from
the chief officer not to defile himself. 9God granted to Daniel grace and
compassion on the part of the chief officer. 10The chief officer told Daniel,
“I fear his majesty the king, who has determined what you eat and drink. If
he notices that your faces are more pale than the other young men in your
group, I will forfeit my head to the king.” 11But Daniel told the guard
whom the chief officer had appointed over Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and
Azariah, 12“Please test your servants for ten days and let us be given
vegetables to eat and water to drink. 13Then compare how we look with the
young men who ate the king’s rich food, and treat your servants in
accordance with what you observe.” 14So he listened to what Daniel said
and tested them for ten days. 15At the end of ten days their appearance was
better and their faces were well–nourished compared to the young men
who ate the king’s rich food. 16So the guard took away their rich food and
wine, giving them vegetables. 17As for these four young men, God gave
them knowledge, aptitude for learning, and wisdom. Daniel also could
understand all kinds of visions and dreams. 18Then at the end of the
training period that the king had established, the chief officer brought them The Assyrian Background
in before Nebuchadnezzar. 19When the king spoke to them, none of them During the Neo–Assyrian Period [900–612 b.c.], Assyria’s expansionist
compared to Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, or Azariah as they stood before tendencies were fuelled by the desire to establish vassal states and enact
the king. 20In every matter of wisdom or understanding that the king tribute from them. During this period, outlying areas [like Syria] made
discussed with them, he found them ten times superior to all the repeated attempts to rebel against Assyria. The Babylonians were also
astrologers and enchanters in his entire palace. 21So Daniel remained there suppressed by Assyria during this period, despite attempts to gain their
in service until the first year of King Cyrus. independence. The grip of Assyria was strengthened under the reign of
Tiglath–pileser III [745–727 b.c.], and his forces invaded Israel in 734–
Understanding the Text 732 b.c. [2 Kings 15:29]. He annexed Damascus in 732 b.c. About this
3) Why did God allow the siege of Jerusalem and deportation? (1:1–2) time disturbances arose in Babylonia following the death of Nabû–naṣir
[Nabonassar] in 734 b.c., which led to Tiglath–pileser taking a more direct
First, an extensive preliminary overview of the historical developments is hand in the affairs of Babylon [2 Kings 15:19; 1 Chronicles 5:26]. Then,
required to fully appreciate this succinct summary of vv. 1–2. The under Shalmaneser V [727–722 b.c.], Assyria instigated a 3–year siege
Assyrian period will be examined first, as it sets the stage for Babylon’s against the city of Samaria [capital of the northern kingdom of Israel],
rise to power. During the power struggle between Assyria and Babylon, which resulted in the fall of Samaria in 722 b.c. and the deportation of
the land of Judah was caught in the crossfire, which led to thousands of Israelites. There is some confusion as to whether the actual
Nebuchadnezzar’s siege of Jerusalem in 605 b.c. and the first deportation fall of Samaria took place under Shalmaneser V or his son Sargon II [722–
of Jews to Babylon, culminating in the destruction of Jerusalem in 586 b.c. 705 b.c.], who claimed to have taken the city, but many scholars feel he
may have been simply taking credit for an achievement of his father.

Albert Kirk Grayson [21st century Assyriologist] says: “The most
attractive solution to the problem is that Samaria fell in 722 b.c., the year
of Shalmaneser V’s death and the accession of Sargon II. Thus, the leading
of the Israelites into exile by the Assyrians was probably carried out
during the reign of Sargon II (721–705 b.c.). Consequently, references to
Shalmaneser (Enemessaros) in the book of Tobit (1:2, 13, 15, 16), in
connection with events during the exile of the people of Samaria at
Nineveh, actually relate to the period of Sargon II.”
So, this marked the collapse of the northern kingdom, predicted by Isaiah,
as discipline from God for years of covenant unfaithfulness [Deuteronomy
28–30]. Under the Assyrian king Sennacherib [705–681 b.c.], Nineveh’s
importance rose. Previously, Nineveh shared the splendour of other royal
cities of Assyria: Asshur, Nimrûd [Calah], and Khorsabad. Under
Sennacherib it became the capital of the land and one of the architectural
wonders of the world. During Sennacherib’s reign the Babylonians again
attempted to throw off the yoke of Assyria. However, the Babylonian king
was defeated along with his allies by Sennacherib near Kish in 703 b.c.
th
Donald Wiseman [20 century Assyriologist] explains the details:
“Sennacherib plundered Babylon, deported 208,000 prisoners to Nineveh,
and set up a young friend Bēl–ibni as ruler. He had to move into the
southern marshes to follow up Marduk–apla–iddina II, who had
reappeared in Bīt–Yakin. The latter was this time driven to flee to Elam.
An expedition was mounted with ships built at Nineveh, carried overland
from Opis on the Tigris, and manned by Phoenicians. It embarked with
troops at Bab–Salimeti; but it was too late, for by then the wily old
Chaldean had died in exile (694 b.c). The Elamites invaded Babylonia,
captured Sippar, and removed the pro–Assyrian Aššur–nadin–šumi from
the throne in Babylon. For 7 years the struggle continued until the
Babylonians, again with Elamite auxiliaries, met the Assyrian army at
Ḫalule. Though the Arameans and their allies were defeated, Assyrian
casualties were heavy. Angered, Sennacherib laid siege to the Chaldeans
within the sacred city of Babylon for 9 months before he sacked it. The
statue of the god Marduk was carried off to Assyria. Sennacherib took the
ancient title ‘King of Sumer and Akkad’ and resistance ceased.”
This fuelled Babylonia’s hatred for Assyria for another ~80 years!
19
Babylon’s Rise to Power
Under the reign of the Assyrian king Ashurbanipal [669–627 b.c.], the
Babylonians unsuccessfully rebelled against Assyria in 651–648 b.c.
Joan Louise Oates [21st century archaeologist] says: “Assurbanipal left a
further and perhaps more important legacy to the modern world. A
library, collected at Nineveh, and discovered there by British excavators in
1853, has provided modern scholars with undoubtedly the world’s single
most important collection of cuneiform tablets, including the Epic of
Gilgamesh and the Creation Epic, the ‘Babylonian Genesis.’”
However, Assyria was weakening, especially during the reign of
Ashurbanipal’s sons, when Assyria began losing territory. Phraortes the
Mede attacked the Assyrians, and by 626 b.c., the Chaldean Nabû–apla–
usur [Nabopolassar] had won independence for Babylon and was
recognized there as king, though not accepted or recognized by Assyria.
This is why the Medes were heirs to Elamite power in western Iran.
Joan Louise Oates [21st century archaeologist] continues: “They had been
welded into a single kingdom by an able ruler, Huvakshatra, known to
Herodotus as Cyaxares. In 614 b.c., Cyaxares marched on Nineveh;
Nimrud was sacked, the walls of Assur breached, and that city captured
and looted.”
Thus, Nabopolassar was important, not only for his eventual conquest of
Nineveh, but also as the father of Nebuchadnezzar [sometimes spelled
Nebuchadrezzar], the Babylonian king of Daniel’s book. So, in light of this
context, Nebuchadnezzar maintained friendly relations with the Medes, as
there is little mention of trouble on the eastern frontier. So, under
Nabopolassar, a new dynasty had begun, generally referred to as the Neo–
Babylonian or Chaldean Period. Nabopolassar gained further territory
from the Assyrians, and by 614 b.c., Asshur fell. Then in 612 b.c., the
Medes and Babylonians marched up the Tigris to Nineveh. In fulfilment of
Nahum’s prophecies, Nineveh fell to the combined forces of the Medes,
the Umman–Manda [either the Scythians or Cimmerians], and the
Babylonians in 612 b.c. The exact identity of the Umman–Manda is still
debated by scholars, and the term is not necessarily limited to one
particular people group.
 20

In general, it appears to have been used for the peoples to the east and
northeast of Nineveh, inhabiting the territory of the Medes and even up
through the Caucasus Mountain range. The term Umman–Manda can
either mean “the horde from who knows where” or “the troops of the
distant terrain” and some scholars suggest that the Cimmerians were
designated as Umman–Manda in Assyrian and Babylonian texts due to the
fact that they came from a distant land in the east. So, a remnant of the
Assyrian forces attempted to withdraw west of the Euphrates River,
hoping to be supported by their Egyptian allies under Pharaoh Neco II.
This led to the defeat of the Assyrians and Egyptians at Harran in 609 b.c.,
and of the Egyptians at Carchemish in 605 b.c., not by Nabopolassar
himself, but by his son Nebuchadnezzar. This marked the end of Assyria
for good, and these victories established Babylon as the dominant world
power of that day and set the stage for Judah’s exile to Babylon.

However, to appreciate this development, the following chart lists the last
reigning kingships of Judah during this period before the exile.

Name Co–Regent Became King Died

Josiah – September 641 to September 640 July 609
Jehoahaz – July 609 October 609
Jehoiakim – October 609 December 598
Jehoiachin September 608 December 598 to April 597 April 561
Zedekiah – April 597 to August 586 August 586

So, Josiah reigned 31 accession years [2 Kings 22:1; 2 Chronicles 34:1].

The accession–year occurs when the king comes to the throne, and his first
official year is that which begins with the New Year’s Day after his
accession. The chronology of this period is reliable due to extra–biblical
materials and two firm dates:

1. The 2nd of Adar [15th/16th of March] in 597 b.c., when Jehoiachin

was captured and taken as prisoner to Babylon by Nebuchadnezzar.

Judah’s Exile to Babylon 2. The 9th of Tammuz [18th of July] in 586 b.c., when Jerusalem fell
In the aftermath of Nebuchadnezzar’s victory at Carchemish in 605 b.c., in the 19th year of Nebuchadnezzar. However, not all scholars
the kingdom of Judah became a victim in a major international shakeup. support this date, where some prefer the 4th of Tammuz in 587 b.c.

Josiah was considered one of the good kings of Judah. In his 8th year in
September 633–632 b.c., he began to seek God [2 Chronicles 34:3]. In his
12th year in September 629–628 b.c., he began to purge the land of evil and
idolatry. During his 18th year, the Torah was found, since it was neglected
during the previous evil reigns of Manasseh and Amon. So, these events
led to a reform effort during his reign to turn the nation back to God, and
under his reform effort, the southern kingdom of Judah experienced some
measure of revival and return to God. Unfortunately, this reform was
somewhat superficial, and more of an outward cleansing, though Josiah
did right in the sight of God [2 Kings 22:2], and was credited with
removing much of the occultic movement in the land and attempting to
turn the nation back to God [2 Kings 23:24–25]. Furthermore, Jeremiah’s
prophetic and preaching ministry was linked with Josiah’s reform
movement. But, despite these measures, God’s judgment was already
settled in light of the nation’s disobedience to the Torah, because of the
evil reign of Manasseh of Judah. The time was ripe for the southern
kingdom to be exiled, as predicted by Moses [Deuteronomy 28:41, 65].
This would echo what the northern kingdom had earlier experienced in
722 b.c., and this judgment was hastened by Josiah’s death along with the
advent of the international power struggle that enveloped Judah, because
during Josiah’s reign, a fierce competition for control of the Middle East
broke out between the three major empires of the day: Egypt, Assyria, and
Babylon. Thus, as Assyria’s domination of the Middle East was nearing an
end, Babylon and Egypt attempted to grab what power they could.
Nineveh had fallen in 612 b.c., marking the virtual demise of Assyria.
However, with a remnant of the Assyrian army still surviving, the struggle
continued on and shifted westward [closer to Judah]. Then, in 609 b.c.,
Pharaoh Necho II of Egypt marched northward through Judah on his way
to Harran [in response to an appeal from Aššur–uballiṭ of Assyria] to
deliver his ally from an approaching Babylonian military force. However,
Josiah intervened against the Egyptians and was killed [2 Kings 23:29].
Thus, upon the death of Josiah, Jehoahaz was made king by “the people of
the land” [2 Kings 23:30], but he reigned for only ~3 months in Jerusalem
because of Pharaoh Necho II [2 Kings 23:31; 2 Chronicles 36:2], and then
was later exiled in Egypt [2 Kings 23:33; Jeremiah 22:10–12].
Leslie McFall [21st century biblical scholar] says: “The reign of Jehoahaz
began in Tammuz (25 June–23 July) of 609 and ended 3 months later in
21
September/October. Because Jehoahaz’s 3 months spilled over into the
next New Year, Jehoiakim had an accession year lasting ~11 months.”
Thus, Jehoiakim was 25 years old when he became king, and he reigned
11 accession years [2 Kings 23:36; 2 Chronicles 36:5], from October in
609 b.c. to the 9th of December in 598 b.c. He was the 2nd son of Josiah [1
Chronicles 3:15], and his given name was Eliakim, but he was given the
throne name of Jehoiakim by Pharaoh Necho II. Furthermore, Jehoiakim
was the ruling king of Judah when Nebuchadnezzar invaded Jerusalem in
605 b.c., and when Daniel and his friends were taken away into exile in
Babylon. Although he was placed on the throne by Pharaoh Necho II,
Jehoiakim was made subject to Babylon. In other words, following the
capture of Nineveh in 612 b.c. by Nabopolassar [with help from the
Medes], the Assyrians were forced to retreat to Harran. But, Nabopolassar
took Harran, and in 609 b.c. he repelled the Assyrians and their Egyptian
allies who attempted to recapture Harran, driving them westward across
the Euphrates River. Thus, Egypt still held sway over Syro–Palestine from
609 b.c. to 605 b.c., and during this period, Jehoiakim remained subject to
Pharaoh Necho II as an Egyptian vassal state, forced to pay heavy tribute.
Nevertheless, in 605 b.c., Nebuchadnezzar turned to the last remaining
Assyrian stronghold: Carchemish. In that year Nebuchadnezzar defeated
Assyria at Carchemish, and he forced Egypt to withdraw from northern
Syria. Nebuchadnezzar then pursued the Egyptian forces toward Egypt,
and it was at this time that he laid siege to Jerusalem, forced the Jews to
pay tribute, and took prisoners. So, from 605 b.c. onward, Jerusalem was
subject to Babylon and incorporated into the Babylonian Empire. Tribute
that previously went to Egypt now went to Babylon. It was also at this
time that his father Nabopolassar died unexpectedly on the 15th/16th of
August in 605 b.c., and Nebuchadnezzar had to rush back to Babylon by
the 7th of September in 605 b.c. He remained in Babylon until the end of
the year. Thus, for the next 3 years [605–602 b.c.], Jehoiakim remained a
loyal subject of Babylon, but then he attempted to rebel [2 Kings 24].
Eugene Merrill [21st century biblical scholar] summarizes the details:
“When Nabopolassar died unexpectedly, Nebuchadnezzar left off his
pursuit of Neco to return to Babylon in order to secure his succession. He
did so on September 7, 605 BC, and remained in Babylon until the turn of
the year, when once more he set his sights on western domination.

Jehoiakim, it will be recalled, was an appointee of Neco of Egypt, who
occupied Palestine and southern Syria between 609 BC and 605 BC.
Jehoiakim, like his brother Jehoahaz, was evil, and for his sin he was
visited with the judgment of God. Until Egypt was permanently expelled
from Palestine by Nebuchadnezzar after the battle of Carchemish, Judah
was an Egyptian vassal state obligated to pay heavy tribute.
Nebuchadnezzar not only drove Egypt out of the land, but also
immediately incorporated Judah into the Babylonian Empire and
demanded that the tribute formerly paid to Egypt be given to Babylonia
instead. Careful attention to all the sources indicates that
Nebuchadnezzar penetrated deep into Syria–Palestine after the fall of
Carchemish, some of his troops reaching Jerusalem itself. With
lightning–like action he ridded the land of the Egyptians, made Jehoiakim
swear allegiance, and sent a number of Jewish captives back to his capital.
All this took place in a matter of a few weeks, for by August 15, 605 BC,
Nabopolassar had died and Nebuchadnezzar had to return at once to
Babylon. As the author of Kings indicates, Jehoiakim remained a loyal
subject to the Babylonians for the next three years (605–602 BC). He then
rebelled for an unknown reason; retribution was swift and sure (2 Kings
24:1–2). Jehoiakim’s rebellion with the Babylonian conflict with Egypt
was in the winter of 601/600 BC, which is attested to by a letter written in
Aramaic from the town of Saqqarah. Nebuchadnezzar sent troops from
Babylonia and from some of his western vassal states such as Aram,
Moab, and Ammon and forced Jehoiakim to submit. Wiseman points out
that the campaign against Jehoiakim is not mentioned in the Babylonian
records (BM 21946, reverse 5–7) because Nebuchadnezzar’s main
objective was Egypt and not Judah. This is why ‘Aramean’ should be
retained in 2 Kings 24:2 and not replaced with ‘Edomite’ as some scholars
argue. The Edomite hostility against Arad described in letters of the period
could refer as well to 587–586 BC as to 600–598 BC. The Chronicler says
that Nebuchadnezzar went so far as to bind Jehoiakim with shackles in
order to take him as a prisoner of war to Babylon (2 Chronicles 36:6).
Apparently he relented, but as punishment, stripped the temple of many of
its sacred articles and took them to his own pagan temples in Babylon.
Thereafter, until his death in 598 BC, Jehoiakim remained in subservience
to the Babylonian overlord. Meanwhile Nebuchadnezzar had undertaken
several western campaigns against Judah’s neighbours. It may have been
his preoccupation with these states that gave Jehoiakim the courage to
22
break his alliance with Nebuchadnezzar. The chronicles, in any case,
reveal that Nebuchadnezzar’s 1st campaign after succeeding his father was
in his 1st regnal year (604 BC). At that time he plunged deep into Palestine
and took the Philistine city of Ashkelon. In his 4th year (601 BC) he
engaged Neco II in a great battle near the border of Egypt, a conflict that
evidently ended in a draw. Perhaps the Babylonian was not altogether
unsuccessful, for he may have brought Judah back under his control in the
course of this campaign.”
Thus, since Nebuchadnezzar engaged Pharaoh Necho II in a great battle
near the border of Egypt, with both sides incurring heavy losses, this
indecisive outcome tempted Judah to free herself from Babylon and seek
an alliance with Egypt. This is why Nebuchadnezzar marched into
northern Syria in his 6th year in 599–598 b.c., but before the Babylonians
could take Jerusalem, Jehoiakim died in December 598 b.c., perhaps in the
siege, but certainly before the main Babylonian army arrived. Then
Jehoiachin became king at age 18 and reigned 3 months [2 Kings 24:8].
However, 2 Chronicles 36:9 states that he was 8 years old! So, is this a
contradiction? No. This 10–year difference refers to co–regency.
Leslie McFall [21st century biblical scholar] says: “Jehoiachin became
coregent in September 608 BC and was king from 9 December 598 BC to
22 April 597 BC. The exact date of Jehoiachin’s kingship can be given
with some degree of accuracy because extra–biblical evidence indicates
that Nebuchadnezzar captured Jerusalem on 15/16 March, 597 BC.
Jehoiachin was deported to Babylon on 22 April 597 BC, and this day
marked the end of Jehoiachin’s reign of 3 months and 10 days. Working
back from this day places the commencement of Jehoiachin’s reign in the
early days of December and consequently Jehoiakim must have died on
or around 9 December 598 BC, which confirms the prophecy of
Jeremiah 36:30 that his dead body would be exposed to the frost of the
night. Jehoiachin was released from prison on 2 April 561 BC. His age is
given as 18, and so this must involve co–regency.”
Thus, in March/April of 597 b.c., Nebuchadnezzar took Jerusalem from
Jehoiachin and set up Zedekiah as king [another son of Josiah]. Jehoiachin,
together with his family, leading state and military officials, craftsmen,
and troops, were taken captive to Babylon [the 2nd deportation].
 23

The total number of captives at this time was 10,000 [2 Kings 24:14], and In summary, there were three major deportations of Jews to Babylon:
Ezekiel was also taken in this deportation in 597 b.c. Although Jerusalem
was spared, a heavy tribute was taken, including the treasures from 1. In 605 b.c., this deportation was limited to a number of the nobility
Solomon’s Temple and the royal palace [2 Kings 24:13]. Jehoiachin and leading youths of the city, like Daniel and his companions.
remained a captive in Babylon for many years, but was eventually released
from prison on the 2nd of April in 561 b.c. [2 Kings 25:27–30], but the 2. In 597 b.c., in response to the rebellion of Jehoiakim and
Babylonian Chronicle [which correlates much of these historical events] Jehoiachin, ~10,000 captives were taken to Babylon [Ezekiel 1:1–
breaks off at 594–593 b.c., and does not pick up again until 557–556 b.c. 3; 2 Kings 24:8–20; 2 Chronicles 36:6–10].
So, finally with Jehoiachin deported to Babylon, his uncle Zedekiah was
made king of Judah [2 Kings 24:17–20], and his reign of 11 years 3. In 586 b.c., Zedekiah’s rebellion brought on the final siege, which
culminated in a major rebellion against Babylon. As a result, culminated with the city and Temple being destroyed and many
Nebuchadnezzar laid siege to Jerusalem one final time for 30 months, and Jews being killed. Those who were not killed were deported to
eventually destroyed the city on the 18th of July in 586 b.c. At this point Babylon [2 Kings 25:1–7; Jeremiah 34:1–7; 39:1–7; 52:2–11].
Daniel had been in Babylon for ~19 years and was serving as an important
official in Nebuchadnezzar’s court. Thus, not only was Jerusalem
destroyed, but Solomon’s Temple [built in 960 b.c.] was also destroyed.
As Lamentations makes clear, this was the lowest point in the nation’s
history, and must have come as very disheartening news to Daniel and his
companions in Babylon. In other words, Jeremiah also lived through all
these terrible events in Jerusalem and witnessed its destruction in 586 b.c.

Highlights of the Babylonian Period

The Neo–Babylonian Empire, founded by Nabopolassar of Babylon,
reached its zenith under his son, Nebuchadnezzar. His rule began in 605
b.c. and lasted until 562 b.c. He is famous for one of the Seven Wonders of
the Ancient World [the gardens of Babylon] as well as for his destruction
of Jerusalem in 586 b.c. He was succeeded by his son Amēl–Marduk

[Evil–Merodach] in October 562 b.c. Thus, during his reign, Daniel
enjoyed great favour with Nebuchadnezzar, while Jehoiachin [who held
the claim to David’s throne] was kept in prison at Babylon. Following
Nebuchadnezzar’s death, Jehoiachin was released. Nevertheless, as mighty
as the Neo–Babylonian Empire was, it turned out to be rather short–lived,
from Nabopolassar’s rise in 627 b.c. until its defeat by Cyrus of Persia in
539 b.c. During the final phase, Nabonidus and Belshazzar served as co–
rulers. However, Nabonidus remained away from Babylon for much of this
time. In other words, although Nabonidus came to the throne in 556–539
b.c., he was an unpopular king, especially with the priests of Marduk, who
hated him for constructing a rival sanctuary to the moon–god Sîn.
Nabonidus went off on a distant expedition to Tema in Arabia, and after
conquering the city, established it as his royal residence. So, here is a
summary of the successive Babylonian kings for this period:
The Religious Context of the Babylonian Exile
To appreciate the culture into which Daniel and the other Jewish exiles
were placed, one must understand some of the religious aspects of
Babylon. Although Assyria and Babylon existed as political and military
rivals for much of ancient Near Eastern history, the two had much in
common in their religion. Much of the Assyro–Babylonian religion was
derived from the earlier Sumerian culture.
24
In contrast to Israel’s monotheism, the Assyro–Babylonian religion held to
a vast pantheon of deities. Furthermore, these deities were often struggling
with one another. There were mythological accounts of both creation and a
flood, but creation was not the result of a spoken word by Israel’s God.
Furthermore, central to Mesopotamian religious practice was the belief
that man was created in order to serve the gods. The list of their deities is
so long that it is simply not possible to list them all here, since there are
~3,000 deities known from theophoric personal names. Furthermore, many
of their functions and attributes would overlap. Here are their main gods:
1. Anu [or “heaven”] was the father and king of the gods, the heavens
personified. Although in theory he was the supreme deity among
the gods, he was in practicality rather passive. His consort was
variously Antu or Ishtar, and his chief city was Uruk. Supposedly
the demons derived their origin from him. Here is iconography
depicting Anu from Maltai [northern Iraq], carved into rock:
2. Enlil [or “lord wind”] represented the atmosphere, wind, and storm.
He functioned as the chief deity and possessed the “tablets of
destiny” which determined the future. His city was Nippur.

Here is iconography of Enlil from a relief of a procession of deities
from Maltai [northern Iraq], carved into rock:
3. Enki was lord of the subterranean sweet–water ocean, and was god
of wisdom, sorcery, arts, crafts, and culture, and the source of all
secret magical knowledge. Here is iconography from a cylinder
seal that depicts Enki enthroned in the Apsû:
25
4. Sîn represented the moon. His principal city was Ur, but he was
also worshiped at Harran in northern Mesopotamia. The last king
of the Neo–Babylonian empire, Nabonidus [father of Belshazzar],
attempted to make Sîn the highest god. Here is iconography of a
relief from ancient Til Barsip that depicts Sîn:
5. Šamaš represented the sun and was god of justice and equity, as
well as judge of the gods. Here is iconography from a cylinder seal:
 26

6. Ishtar was the most important female deity, and the functions and 8. Ashur became the national god of Assyria, understood as a deified
characteristics of other goddesses were often assimilated into her. form of the city Aššur. Here is iconography from a relief of a
She was particularly viewed as the goddess of love and fertility, but procession of deities from Maltai [northern Iraq], carved into rock.
also of war. Ishtar was highly popular at Babylon, and one of the
notable archaeological discoveries from the ruins of Babylon has
been the Ishtar Gate [a major gate of the city dedicated to her]. She
later became known as Astarte throughout western Asia. She was
often represented riding on her sacred beast. Here is iconography
from a cylinder seal that depicts Ishtar with her foot on a lion:

9. Marduk is one of the primary deities of interest for Daniel’s

context, for it was Marduk who was chosen as the national god of
Babylonia. As such, he assumed the functions accorded to other
deities and came to have the prominent place of honour in
Babylonia. Marduk’s rise to supremacy over other deities occurred
7. Adad was the god of thunder and rainstorm [Hadad was his
over 1,000 years before Nebuchadnezzar’s reign! Here are two
prominent West Semitic counterpart], and was either beneficent by
iconography, one from a cylinder seal of Marduk on Tiamat’s
enabling life to flourish, or destructive through flooding. Here is a
monster [left] and another of Nabu from an amuletic plaque [right]:
stele of Adad from Arslan Tash [ancient Hadatu]:
 27

Paul Gaebelein Jr. [20th century ancient Near Eastern scholar] says: Although temples were erected to other gods at Babylon, Marduk was the
“The chief god of the Babylonian pantheon, whose name in primary god worshiped there. Although the major temple of Babylon was
Sumerograms is dAMAR.UTU, ‘calf of the sun,’ is attested the temple of Marduk situated at the center of the city, other temples
existed for Gula, Shamash, Adad, Belit Nina, and Ishtar of Agade. Here is
syllabically as dMa–ru–du–uk–ku. Upon the political ascendancy
an artistic rendition that shows the sacred area of Babylon as it was rebuilt
of Hammurabi of Babylon (1750 b.c.), Marduk the god of Babylon by Nabopolassar and his son Nebuchadnezzar. The Euphrates River on
became supreme among the older Sumerian gods as creator and which the most important commodities of Mesopotamia were transported
ruler—a position formerly enjoyed by Enlil but affirmed for is at the front. The ziggurat of the city is on the left. Marduk’s temple [out
Marduk in the Code of Hammurabi and the Creation Epic and of 43 temples] is on the right. Residential areas are at the back.
retained until the end of indigenous Mesopotamian religion (100–
200 a.d.). Jeremiah prophesied that Marduk, also called Bêl,
‘lord,’ would be put to shame (Jeremiah 50:2). The divine name
Marduk can be seen in the royal names Merodach–baladan (2
Kings 20:12; Isaiah 39:1) from the Akkadian Marduk–apal–iddin
(‘Marduk has given a son’) and Evil–merodach (2 Kings 25:27;
Jeremiah 52:31) from the Akkadian amel–Marduk (‘man of
Marduk’), and possibly in the name Mordecai.”

Thus, Marduk serves as the hero in the Enuma Elish, a story that
was recited on the 4th day of the New Year Festival at Babylon, and
as son of Ea, he was the god of magic and incantation. Since
Babylon was his chief city, and his temple [the Esagila] was
located there, Daniel witnessed the worship of Marduk.

10. Nabu who was Marduk’s son, was popularized greatly in the 1st
millennium b.c. as the Babylonian deity of wisdom. In fact, the
name Nebuchadnezzar means “O Nabû, protect my offspring.”

So, not only was Assyro–Babylonian religion polytheistic, but it was

superstitious. Adherents believed that numerous demons attacked people
with distress and diseases. Thus, people felt that it was through
appeasement of the deities that they could avoid bad fate. In other words,
service to the deities, divination, and magic were a way of life.
Furthermore, the promotion of the local religious cult was considered
important. In the religious cult, the king stood as head of the cult, although
in practice the various functions of the cult were delegated to others.
Malcolm Horsnell [21st century biblical scholar] says: “The ancient
Babylonians believed that kingship came down from heaven and was
bestowed by the gods. Thus, the king ruled by divine sanction. In Sumerian
times the king was viewed as divine (indicated by his titles and by the use
of the divine determinative with his name), but he was not worshiped as a
god. In Babylonian times he ceased to be viewed as divine, though he was
 28

considered symbolically son of a god or goddess. He was the head of the praise to Marduk and prays to him: “From the Upper Sea to the Lower Sea
cult, the foremost servant of the gods, bearing the ultimate responsibility […] which Marduk, my lord, has entrusted to me, I have made […] the city
for correctly perpetuating the cult and for building and restoring the of Babylon to the foremost among all the countries and every human
temples of his realm. He was commander of his army with military habitation; its name I have made/elevated to the most worthy of praise
functions on behalf of the gods. He was shepherd of his people and as such among the sacred cities. The sanctuaries of my lords Nebo and Marduk as
a channel through whom justice, righteousness, prosperity, blessing, and a wise ruler […] always. At that time, the Lebanon, the Cedar Mountain,
fertility flowed from the gods to his people and land. He was maintainer of the luxurious forest of Marduk, the smell of which is sweet, the high cedars
harmony between society and nature, between society and the gods. The of which, its product, another god has not desired, which no other king has
New Year akītu Festival, especially in the sacred marriage ritual in which felled […] my nâbû Marduk had desired as a fitting adornment for the
he played the role of the deity, constituted an annual demonstration of the palace of the ruler of heaven and earth, this Lebanon over which a foreign
sacred nature of the king’s person as supreme representative of the gods enemy was ruling and robbing it of its riches—its people were scattered,
on behalf of his people and land. Similar views were held in Assyria, but had fled to a far away region. Trusting in the power of my lords Nebo and
there the king was even more closely tied to the cult, playing a more Marduk, I organized my army for an expedition to the Lebanon. I made
prominent priestly role. Probably the Assyrian king’s military functions that country happy by eradicating its enemy everywhere. All its scattered
were emphasized, since Ashur was the god of war. Thus, it may also be inhabitants I led back to their settlements. What no former king had done I
that Assyrian military campaigns, which became an annual enterprise, achieved: I cut through steep mountains, I split rocks, opened passages
were thought of as wars on behalf of the god Ashur to subjugate all and I constructed a straight road for the transport of the cedars. I made
peoples under Ashur’s sovereignty.” the Arahtu float down and carry to Marduk, my king, mighty cedars, high
and strong, of precious beauty and of excellent dark quality, the abundant
Likewise, here is an yield of the Lebanon, as if they be reed stalks carried by the river. Within
inscription that mentions Babylon I stored mulberry wood. I made the inhabitants of the Lebanon
Nebuchadnezzar as a live in safety together and let nobody disturb them. In order that nobody
builder, since kings might do any harm to them I erected there a stela showing me as
intended to make clear everlasting king of this region and built […] I, myself, […] established
that each of them […] people […] to […] towards the entrance to the mountain. Beside my
fulfilled their duties with statue as king […] I wrote an inscription mentioning my name, […] I
regard to the cult erected for posterity. May future kings respect the monuments, remember
buildings for the gods. It the praise of the gods inscribed thereupon. He who respects […] my royal
reads: “I am name, who does not abrogate my statutes and not change my decrees, his
Nebuchadnezzar, the throne shall be secure, his life last long, his dynasty shall continue! Rain
king of Babylon, the from the sky, flood water from the interior of the earth shall be given to
restorer of the temples, him continually as a present! He himself shall rule peacefully and in
the eldest son of abundance. O Marduk, my lord, do remember my deeds favourably as
Nabopolassar, king of good deeds, may these my good deeds be always before your mind so that
Babylon.” my walking in Esagila and Ezida—which I love—may last to old age. May
I remain always your legitimate governor, may I pull your yoke till I am
Thus, Nebuchadnezzar fulfilled his role as king of being the leader of the sated with progeny, may my name be remembered in future days in a good
cult. Likewise, from the Wadi–Brisa inscription, Nebuchadnezzar gives sense, may my offspring rule forever over the black–headed.”

Thus, Mesopotamian religion held that man was created in order to serve
the gods. This is why the image of the god was important, since the deity
was considered to be present in its image. When the image was carried off
to war, the deity remained absent until its return. During festival times the
image was carried through the streets in solemn procession. Here is a
procession in which animals carry on their backs the Babylonian deities.
These are gods of the sun, moon, and five planets of which the
Babylonians were aware. Notice the two Babylonian kings, one that faces
the procession [left], and another that follows it [right]. Isaiah likewise
describes these Babylonian idols on the backs of animals [Isaiah 21:9;
41:21–24; 46:1]. So, the focal point of religious life in Babylon centered
on the temple of the deity [of which there were several in Babylon], and
Marduk’s temple was the Esagila [or “the temple with its head raised”].
29
Malcolm Horsnell [21st century biblical scholar] continues: “The ordinary
person could worship the gods and goddesses at various places in ancient
Mesopotamia: open–air sanctuaries, chapels in private homes, and small
chapels in residential parts of town. Temples were the most important
places of worship, which focused almost entirely on the official cults of the
most important deities on behalf of city or nation. General public
involvement was limited to access to the large outer–temple courtyard,
public events, situations of crisis, and annual festivals, when the god’s
image and the priesthood moved outside the usual isolation of the temple.
A city often had more than one temple, honouring different deities, of
which one was the city’s tutelary deity. A temple estate could amount to
thousands of acres involving thousands of personnel and workers. Typical
of a major temple complex was the ziggurat, a great, man–made, multi–
staged mountain of earth and brick up to 90 m square and 45 m high. On
its top, approached by long stairways like the ladder in Jacob’s dream
(Genesis 28:12), was the ‘high temple.’ At the bottom was the ‘low
temple.’ The significance of the ziggurat is unclear but it may have been
perceived as a giant altar that provided a link between earth and heaven
(Ezkiel 43:13–17). Others have seen it as the throne of the deity (Isaiah
14:13). A major temple had a large outer courtyard surrounded by rooms
used as storerooms, workshops, kitchens, lodgings, libraries, stables, and
scribal school. Another, smaller courtyard lay beyond and contained an
altar. Here also was the temple itself. The temple comprised a cella (‘holy
of holies’), with a niche for the statue of the deity, separated by a curtain
from an ante–cella. In Babylonia the latter was entered through one of the
long walls but in later Assyria through the short wall opposite the cella.
The temple was the deity’s dwelling place, where he was present on earth
to provide blessing for city and people and to be approached by the
priesthood and rulers. Here many of the cultic rituals, and especially the
daily service, were carried out. The temple estate played a prominent
economic role in the city’s life but vied with private and royal estates. The
temple estate also had a sociological function, absorbing many otherwise
destitute elements of society, such as widows, the homeless, and captives.
The daily service of the deity, who was represented by an image, provided
for his material needs. The deity was bathed, suitably attired, and
ornamented. At night the deity was escorted to bed. Meals were provided
twice a day, morning and evening, and at some places three or four times.
Provisions were placed before the deity on a table, and a curtain drawn

for privacy as he ate. The various foods could be animals (bulls, goats,
deer, sheep), fish, poultry, vegetables, fruit, dates, figs, cereals, bread,
cakes, oil, milk, honey, wine, or beer. Some foods, such as birds, sheep,
beef, and poultry, were taboo for different deities (Leviticus 11;
Deuteronomy 13:3–21). Dishes of food from the deity’s table may on
occasion have been sent to the king so that he could share in the blessing
of the deity. The priests and temple staff shared in many other daily
offerings and animal sacrifices that were rendered. The blood of the
animal sacrifices had no ritual significance. It is generally assumed,
however, that the slaughtered animal’s blood was poured out as a libation
before the deity. There is no evidence that animal sacrifices were burnt, as
they were in Hebrew religion. On special days of the month extra service
was accorded the deity (Numbers 28:9). The 7th, 14th, 19th, 21st, and 28th
days were considered dangerous and unlucky, and so special rituals were
carried out to appease the evil powers. Some have suggested that we see
here the beginning of the 7–day week. The 1st and 15th days (new moon
and full moon) were also days of special service. The new moon was called
bubbulu (Numbers 10:10; 28:11–16), the full moon šapattu (Hebrew
šabbāṯ; 2 Kings 4:23; Isaiah 1:13, where ‘new moon’ and ‘sabbath’ are
mentioned together, suggesting šabbāṯ may originally have meant ‘full
moon’). Also, every local sanctuary had its own special days of service. In
the hot midsummer month of Tammuz the festival of the god Tammuz
(Sumerian Dumuzi) was held. On the 2nd day there was lamentation. On
the 9th, 16th, and 17th days there were torch–lit processions. During the
three last days an image of Tammuz was buried. In this festival Tammuz’s
death was lamented and possibly his return to life celebrated. The most
important Assyro–Babylonian festival was the New Year Festival, which is
attested from early Sumerian to late Babylonian and Assyrian times and
was celebrated in various cities. The form of this festival most notably
attested (from a fairly detailed, but incompletely preserved, text of
Seleucid times) was the akītu (Sumerian zà–mu–uk, ‘beginning of the
year,’ or á–ki–ti) festival celebrated annually at Babylon in the spring,
during the first 11 days of the month Nisan. The 1st day’s ritual is
unpreserved. On the 2nd day the šešgallu–priest prayed to Marduk,
extolling the god’s victories and seeking his favour for Babylon, its people,
and the temple Esagila. On the 3rd day two images were made of wood,
gold, and precious stones, and clothed in red, to be used in the 6th day’s
rituals. On the 4th day the šešgallu–priest greeted the early morning rising
30
of a particular constellation of stars. In the evening the epic of creation,
Enuma Elish, was recited. On the 5th day Marduk’s temple Esagila was
purified. A sacrificial sheep was decapitated, its bleeding body rubbed
around the temple walls to take upon itself all uncleanness, and finally the
head and body cast into the river which carried away the uncleanness, like
the scapegoat ceremony performed on the Israelite Day of Atonement
(Leviticus 16:15–22). The god Nabû, Marduk’s son, arrived from
neighbouring Borsippa. The king of Babylon entered before Marduk and
was subjected to a ritual humiliation in which the šešgallu–priest removed
his royal insignia and placed them before Marduk. The priest struck the
king’s face and pulled his ears. The king knelt before Marduk declaring he
was innocent of neglecting his duties. The priest struck the king again; it
was considered a favourable omen for the future if this brought tears to his
eyes. His insignia were now returned. The significance of this ceremony
was to show that the king was responsible to Marduk, who renewed his
kingship each year. The text does not preserve the ceremonies for the
remaining days; these have been reconstructed from allusions in other
texts. On the 6th day deities from other cities arrived in procession at
Esagila. Marduk made two determinations of destinies, one on the 8th and
one on the 11th day. On the 10th day the king, ‘taking the hand of Marduk,’
led a procession from Esagila, through Babylon, across the Euphrates on
boats, to the bīt akīti, ‘house of akītu,’ where Marduk’s victory over
Tiâmat, the primordial chaos monster, was celebrated in cultic drama, the
king playing the role of Marduk. A banquet followed. The king and
Marduk hastened from the akītu–house back to Esagila, where a sacred
marriage ritual was consummated, with the king representing Marduk and
a high priestess the god’s consort, Ṣarpanitu. On the 12th day the festival
ended as the various deities returned to their own cities. The Assyrian
akītu–festival is not so well attested. It differed from the festival at Babylon
in various ways. At Asshur it also occurred in Nisan but lasted 21 days.
The Assyrian king took the lead the whole time and was not subjected to a
cultic humiliation. Instead, his kingship was renewed in a coronation
ceremony at which his officials laid down their insignia of office to have
them restored by the king.”
Thus, Babylon relied on supernatural information through occult channels.
One means was through divination by which the Babylonians sought to
know the will of the gods and destinies they had determined for the people.

Through this information they could hope to avoid disasters and choose
more favourable outcomes. There were various means for the practice of
divination, and numerous manuals were compiled to assist the specialists.
Joan Louise Oates [21st century archaeologist] says: “A great variety of
techniques were used in divination, including the observation of animals’
entrails, oil in water, smoke from incense, the behaviour of birds and other
animals, and celestial and other natural phenomena. Indeed its senior
practitioners were men of influence, held in high esteem in their own
society. They were consulted on all important occasions both by private
individuals and officers of state. The army was accompanied by a diviner.”
Divination was also used for interpreting the content of dreams, because
dreams were highly esteemed, and some were even regarded as revelation
from the gods. Archaeologists have recovered a well–preserved cuneiform
baked–clay cylinder on which Nabonidus [555–539 b.c.] has recorded his
famous dream in which he is instructed by the gods to undertake the
restoration of the temple of the moon–god in Harran. It reads: “At the
beginning of my reign the gods let me see a dream: there stood both
Marduk the Great Lord, and Sin, the light of heaven and earth.”
This is why Nebuchadnezzar would summon for his court to interpret his
dreams, and an individual might even sleep in a temple in hopes of
31
receiving an enlightening dream from the deity. The Babylonians
passionately studied astrology, the observation of celestial phenomena, in
hopes of detecting omens that might affect the nation, and Babylon
became the most celebrated center for divination based on astrology.
Helmer Ringgren [20th century biblical scholar] says: “In course of time
observations of the heavenly bodies are developed to an astrological
system. The planets are each connected with a god, and their course in
heaven is assigned significance for events on earth. The starry sky is
sometimes called šiṭir šamê (or ‘the book of heaven’), a writing which
reveals the intentions of the gods. We do not know for certain when and
where the theory arose that a man’s life depends on the position of the
stars at the moment of birth, which led to the establishment of the
horoscope, but there is much to suggest that it was precisely in
Babylonia, where the oldest known horoscopes come from 410 b.c.”
In fact, from the time of Nabonassar [747–734 b.c.], the Chaldaeans
accurately recorded the times of the motion of the stars, and the term
“Chaldaean” came to signify “astronomer.” Furthermore, there was the
functioning of an astronomical observatory in Babylon as early as the
reign of Marduk–apla–iddina II [721–710 b.c.]. For example, here is the
transverse motion of the sun across the paths of Enlil, Anu, and Ea,
associated with the fixed stars, as recorded by Babylonian astronomers:

William Lane Craig [21st century analytic philosopher] explains:
“According to the Babylonian astronomical texts known as the Astrolabes,
dating at least to the middle Babylonian period, the stars may be grouped
into three ‘paths’ as they move across the sky, each given the name of a
deity. The central or equatorial band was called the path of Anu, the
northerly band the path of Enlil, and the southerly band the path of Ea.
The ancient astrologers observed that the planets do not move in tandem
with the fixed stars but wander across the heavens, sometimes standing
still and even undergoing retrograde motion. Babylonian astronomers thus
differentiated the planets (bibbu, wild sheep), including, in our
nomenclature, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn, from the fixed
stars (kakkabu). These planets, along with the sun and the moon, all move
in a single band of their own across the sky, but this band cuts across the
paths of Anu, Enlil, and Ea due to the tilt of the earth’s axis. As a result,
the planets, as well as the sun and the moon, actually transition from the
path of one deity to another, appearing at certain seasons of the year in
the path of Anu, for example, and at other seasons in the path of Enlil.
Historian of science Francesca Rochberg explains that Mesopotamian
astronomy was wholly phenomenal or instrumentalist in character. In
contrast to later Greek astronomy, ‘the Babylonian astronomers had no
models of planetary motion. What they did have were mathematical
schemes for the computation of synodic appearances.’ Thus, she
observes, Babylonian astronomy did not rely or depend on a spherical
cosmological framework, nor did it even make use of geometrical models
of a celestial body in motion around a central Earth. ‘The lack of an
explicit cosmological model within which Babylonian astronomical theory
was to fit was of no consequence in view of the fact that the predictions did
not derive from a geometrical conception that attempted to make causal
sense of the phenomena, but rather depended on period relations whose
purpose was to enable the computation of phenomena either forward or
backward in time in an instrumental way.’ More recently Rochberg has
expanded on this theme, arguing that the Babylonians were not
interested in ‘nature’ per se, as opposed to observations of regularities.
‘Babylonian models all shared a common objective to predict and a
disinterest in cosmology or physical explanation. The Babylonians were
concerned with periodicity. Theirs was a thoroughly quantitative approach
and did not depend upon a physical framework.’ One important indication
of the Babylonians’ indifference to physical cosmology is their use of two
32
independent algorithms for calculating the dates and positions of lunar
and planetary phenomena, known as System A and System B. The first
described the phenomena by means of a step function, whereas the second
used linear zigzag functions. Though empirically equivalent, both systems
could not be accurate descriptions of physical reality; neither did either
purport to be such. ‘This theoretical aspect of predictive astronomy seems
to have little or no connection to a cosmology, or spatial framework within
which to conceive of the planetary or lunar positions,’ Rochberg
concludes. ‘The coexistence of Systems A and B models further argues
against the idea that a physical representation was of any comparative
value among Babylonian astronomical models.’ Someone might say that
the mythological texts had a quite different view of the physical cosmos
than the scientific, astronomical texts. But this naive bifurcation has been
exploded by the re–appreciation on the part of scholars in recent decades
of how fully integrated ancient Mesopotamian religion was with their
science, including observational astronomy, a fact already evident in the
divine names assigned to the three celestial paths. In the Enuma elish
IV.146 and V.1–46, Marduk organizes the stars, planets, and
constellations according to the same pattern described in the Astrolabes,
including the paths of Anu, Enlil, and Ea. The traditional celestial omen
text Enuma Anu Enlil opens with a mythological introduction about how
Anu, Enlil, and Ea constructed the heavens so that they can serve as
omens. Ancient Mesopotamians were obsessed with divination, which
was a massive and lucrative industry, and the reading and interpretation
of divinatory signs was the foremost concern of literary and scholarly
writings in Babylonia and Assyria. More than half of Ashurbanipal’s
famous library was devoted to divination, and, of this, 48% concerned
astrology, 14% extispicy, and about 10% terrestrial omens. Most
historians of science now realize that mathematical and observational
astronomy were just as much a part of Babylonian divination as the
examination of the liver of a sacrificial lamb. Rochberg has emphasized
that the stellar constellations were analogous to a sort of ‘heavenly
writing’ by means of which the will of the gods might be discerned. ‘The
image of the heavens as a stone surface upon which a god could draw or
write, as a scribe would a clay tablet, complements the metaphoric trope
of the heavenly writing.’ Rochberg sees the following difference between
the mythological texts and the astrological texts: whereas Babylonian
cosmogonic myths represent the creation of the cosmos as an allegory

involving personified cosmic elements, such as sea, earth, sky, and wind,
astronomical and omen texts seek to describe the phenomena themselves.
Even though celestial phenomena were sometimes described in the latter
in metaphorical terms as gods (for example, ‘the moon god mourns’ serves
as a metaphor for the moon’s being eclipsed), ‘the use of metaphorical
language in the omens has the force of conveying the appearance of
something observed, or potentially observable, and this constitutes
suggestive evidence for how the ancient Mesopotamians conceptualized
some natural phenomena as manifestations of the gods.’”
Starting with v. 1, we read: “in the third year of the reign of King
Jehoiakim of Judah, King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon came to Jerusalem
and laid siege to it.” In other words, Jehoiakim came to the throne of
Judah in October of 609 b.c. following Josiah’s death at the hands of
Pharaoh Necho II [610–595 b.c.]. This Pharaoh inherited a rather strong
and reunited Egypt from his father, and likewise chose to support the
Assyrian Empire that was crumbling due to the assaults of Babylon and
Media. So, shortly after coming to power, Pharaoh Necho II marched in
609 b.c. through Syria to help the last Assyrian king, Aššur–uballit, against
the Babylonians. However, as he passed through Judah, Josiah opposed
him, and this forced Pharaoh Necho II to fight and kill Josiah [2 Kings
23:29; 2 Chronicles 35:20–24]. Nevertheless, the Egyptian army had been
slowed, and this delay helped the Babylonians to destroy unaided Assyria.
So, upon his return to Egypt, Pharaoh Necho II replaced Josiah’s son
Jehoahaz with another of his sons, Jehoiakim, and he was required to pay
tribute to the Pharaoh as a token of his loyalty to Egypt [2 Kings 23:31–35;
2 Chronicles 36:1–4]. Thus, Egypt laid claim to Judah and would hold
sovereignty over her, but because Judah remained a vassal state of Egypt,
with the burden of annual tribute, Nebuchadnezzar attacked in 605 b.c.,
defeated the Egyptians at Carchemish, and pursued them southward,
driving them back to Egypt. This naturally brought the Babylonians to
Judah, where they quickly advanced on the capital at Jerusalem and laid
siege to it in the summer of 605 b.c., but before Nabopolassar’s death on
the 15th/16th of August. Their motive in laying siege to Jerusalem was to
instead make Judah a Babylonian vassal state in order to prevent Egypt
from pushing northward again. This did not surprise Jeremiah who had
already proclaimed God’s warning against Israel just before
Nebuchadnezzar’s army showed up on their doorstep in 605 b.c.
33
Jeremiah told the people exactly what was going to happen and why. God
was about to judge them for their idolatry and their failure to listen to his
prophets. Furthermore, he was going to use Nebuchadnezzar as his
servant, an instrument of judgment against his own people. The nation
would serve the king of Babylon for 70 years before God would also bring
judgment on the Babylonians [Jeremiah 25:1–14]. Nevertheless, critical
scholars argue that there is a crucial contradiction. In other words,
Jeremiah equates the 4th year of Jehoiakim with the 1st year of
Nebuchadnezzar [Jeremiah 25:1], whereas Daniel says that Jerusalem was
besieged by Nebuchadnezzar in the 3rd year of Jehoiakim [v. 1]. But, there
is no actual discrepancy, because Jeremiah and Daniel were using different
methods of reckoning the years. This is because calendar systems and
methods of dating were different in the ancient Near East [their year did
not begin on the 1st of January], and there was no uniform system used
throughout the ancient Near East. Thus, there are two major issues that
have to be taken into account in regard to the dating of ancient kings:
1. There is the matter of the beginning month of the year, whether
Nisan in the spring of the year [March–April] or Tishri in the
autumn of the year [September–October]. So, a regnal year of a
king’s reign could be based on Tishri to Tishri, or Nisan to Nisan.
2. For a king’s reign, there is a crucial distinction between an
accession year and a non–accession year.
Jack Finegan [20th century biblical scholar] says: “In the factual–
year system the 1st year of reign begins on the day of the king’s
accession to the throne, the 2nd year begins exactly a year later,
and so on. In the non–accession–year system the year in which the
ruler comes to the throne is counted as his 1st year regardless of
how many days or months remain in that year, and his 2nd year
begins with the 1st New Year’s Day (Tishri 1 or Nisan 1) after his
accession; this system is also called ante–dating. In the accession
year system the year in which the king comes to the throne is called
his accession year and for the purpose of counting his years of
reign, his first official year is that which begins with the New
Year’s Day after his accession; this system is also called post–
dating.”

So, these factors are key to reconciling the chronological data of the kings
of the northern kingdom [Israel] with that of the southern kingdom
[Judah]. But, this was complicated by the fact that the counting system
changed over the years, especially for the northern kingdom.
Leslie McFall [21st century biblical scholar] says: “An important factor
affecting the form of the biblical report is that two source documents were
used by the writer of Kings. His two sources were the ‘Chronicles of the
Kings of Judah’ and the ‘Chronicles of the Kings of Israel.’ The most
significant difference between these two documents was that they used two
distinct calendars to record each other’s history. Neither side recognized
the other’s calendar and so each wrote up the other’s history using its own
calendar. This is probably the most important factor affecting the
reconciliation of the apparent discrepancies in the synchronisms of the
Hebrew kings from the division of the kingdom to Jehoram.”
So, since Jeremiah used Tishri years and non–accession reckoning for the
last years of the Judean monarchy [which is consistent with 2 Kings and
Ezekiel], it chronologically aligns with the collapse of Josiah’s reign!
Jack Finegan [20th century biblical scholar] continues: “In the western city
of Haran a remnant of Assyrian empire was maintained a few years longer
by Ashur–uballit II (611–608 B.C.). British Museum Tablet No. 21901
records that in his 16th year (610/609 B.C.) Nabopolassar drove Ashur–
uballit out of Haran; in the next year (609/608) between Duzu (June/July)
609 and Ululu (August/September) 609 Ashur–uballit and ‘a large army of
Egypt’ tried to reconquer Haran. The ‘army of Egypt’ is surely the
expeditionary force of Pharaoh Necho II (609–595), mentioned also in 2
Kings 23:29 and 2 Chronicles 35:21, which King Josiah tried vainly to
oppose at Megiddo. The purpose of Necho was evidently to assist the
Assyrians and resist the New Babylonians; the intent of Josiah was to keep
help from reaching the Assyrians, the old enemy of Judah. The death of
Josiah in his own 31st year, in his ill–fated attempt at Megiddo, is
therefore to be dated in the 17th year of Nabopolassar and in the month of
Duzu/Tammuz (June 25–July 23) 609 B.C. The endeavour of the Egyptians
to assist the Assyrians evidently failed, for the attackers ‘afterwards
retired from the siege,’ and Ashur–uballit disappeared from the scene.
This event in 609 was the final end of the Assyrian empire.”
34
Thus, following Josiah’s death, his son Jehoahaz reigned for 3 months.
Jack Finegan [20th century biblical scholar] continues: “We have dated the
death of Josiah at Megiddo in Duzu/Tammuz (June 25–July 23) 609 B.C.
After him the people put on the throne his son Jehoahaz, and the latter
reigned for 3 months (2 Kings 23:31). The reign of Jehoahaz began in
Tammuz and ended 3 months later in Tishri (September 21–October 19)
609 B.C. The end of the short reign of Jehoahaz came because Pharaoh
Necho deposed him and in his place installed Eliakim, also a son of
Josiah, in the kingship, changing his name to Jehoiakim, and Jehoiakim
reigned for 11 years (2 Kings 23:36). Because the 3 months of the reign of
Jehoahaz extended over into Tishri 609, the 1st month of the next new year,
Jehoiakim had an accession year of ~11 months in the balance of that year
(609/608), and his first regnal year began on yet the next Tishri 1
(September 10), 608.”
So, the next important step is to identify the correct time of
Nebuchadnezzar’s siege of Jerusalem following the Battle of Carchemish.
Rodger Young [21st century biblical chronologist] explains: “Let us
examine Jeremiah’s synchronisms to see what the data tells us. Two texts
will be used for the initial sifting. The first is Jeremiah 1:3, which says that
the inhabitants of Jerusalem were taken to Babylon in the 5th month of the
11th year of Zedekiah. If this is to be consistent with 2 Kings and Ezekiel,
this date must come out to be in 587n/587t. The second reference is
Jeremiah 46:2, which says that the Battle of Carchemish occurred in the
4th year of Jehoiakim. From the Babylonian Chronicles, it is known that
Jehoiakim was installed by Necho in Tishri of 609, and the Battle of
Carchemish occurred in the 605n/605t time frame.”
In other words, 605n and 605t designates that time period between Nisan
of 605 b.c. and Tishri of 605 b.c. Thus, the Battle of Carchemish occurred
in the summer of 605 b.c., with Nebuchadnezzar’s invasion of Jerusalem
coming immediately afterward in August of that year, as he hastily
pursued Pharaoh Necho II in his retreat to Egypt. However, since
Nabopolassar died on the 15th of August in 605 b.c., Nebuchadnezzar,
having only recently laid siege to Jerusalem [v. 1], had to return
immediately to Babylon to secure his place as the next king.
 35

Thus, Nebuchadnezzar left his pursuit of Pharaoh Necho II and returned to (Jeremiah 32:1), should have written the year as something like ‘in the 1st
Babylon on the 7th of September in 605 b.c. Curiously, there is a preserved year’ as in Daniel 9:1. Jeremiah could have recorded the date in that way,
account by Josephus [1st century Jewish historian] of Nebuchadnezzar’s but the way he chose is plain enough, and it is questionable what other
return to Babylon derived from the writings of the Babylonian historian method he could have used to refer unambiguously to the year in which
Berossus [C. Ap., 1.135–138]. Furthermore, it is interesting that soon after Nebuchadnezzar came to the throne.”
those events in 605 b.c., Tishri began on the 7th of October.
In summary, both Jeremiah and Daniel reckoned the beginning of the
Jack Finegan [20th century biblical scholar] continues: “We have already New Year from Tishri 1, but Jeremiah [following Judean practice] used
seen that the battle of Carchemish must have taken place in May/June 605 non–accession year dating, while Daniel [following Babylonian practice]
B.C., after which Nebuchadnezzar made conquests in ‘the Hatti–land’ used accession year dating. Here is a summary of the calendar calibration:
(Syria–Palestine), and then went back to Babylon to take the throne on
September 7, 605. Daniel states that in the 3rd year of Jehoiakim Jeremiah Daniel
Event Date
Nebuchadnezzar besieged Jerusalem and carried off temple treasures Non–Accession Year Accession Year
together with Daniel and others of the tribe of Judah to Babylon. Although Jehoiakim’s Reign Began
this taking of Jerusalem and 1st deportation of some of its people to Tishri 1, 609 b.c. 1st Regnal Year Accession Year
Babylon is otherwise unknown, the event must have taken place in the [September 21]
time soon after the battle of Carchemish, when Nebuchadnezzar Tishri 1, 608 b.c.
accomplished his other victories in Syria–Palestine. Since Daniel uses 2nd Regnal Year 1st Regnal Year
[September 10]
Tishri years, and since in those terms the 3rd year of Jehoiakim extended to Tishri 1, 607 b.c.
the end on October 6, 605, the date in Daniel 1:1 includes correctly the 3rd Regnal Year 2nd Regnal Year
[September 29]
time soon after Carchemish (May/June 605). Since Jeremiah uses Nisan Tishri 1, 606 b.c.
years, the date is stated in Jeremiah 46:2 as the 4th year of Jehoiakim.” [September 19]

Thus, if Jeremiah was using a Tishri system with non–accession year Nebuchadnezzar’s Siege
dating, then Jeremiah was correct that Nebuchadnezzar laid siege to 4th Regnal Year 3rd Regnal Year
[August 605 b.c.]
Jerusalem in the 4th year of Jehoiakim’s reign, which means Daniel must
have used accession–year dating for Jehoiakim, because he employed the Nebuchadnezzar’s Coronation
accession–year standard that was used by the Babylonian scribes. [September 605 b.c.]
Tishri 1, 605 b.c.
Rodger Young [21st century biblical chronologist] continues: “In Jeremiah 5th Regnal Year 4th Regnal Year
[October 7]
25:1, the 4th year of Jehoiakim coincided with the 1st year of
Nebuchadnezzar. It refers not to Nebuchadnezzar’s 1st full year, but to his Paul House [21st century biblical scholar] concludes: “There are at least
accession year, in keeping with standard Babylonian accession–year three basic problems: (1) how the chronology of Nebuchadnezzar’s 1st
counting. This was 605n by Nisan reckoning or 606t by Tishri reckoning, year fits Jehoiakim’s 4th year; (2) when and in what way Jehoiakim served
either of which overlaps with the 4th year of Jeremiah’s Tishri, non– Nebuchadnezzar before rebelling; and (3) what sort of military action, if
accession method for Jehoiakim, namely 609t – 3 (acc) = 606t. The only any, Nebuchadnezzar took against Jerusalem in his 1st year (Daniel 1:1).
objection that might be raised to this synchronism is that Jeremiah, in On the first matter, Babylon used a dating system for the beginning of a
keeping with his non–accession treatment of Nebuchadnezzar’s reign

king’s reign that was different from that of Hebrew writers. Baldwin
explains that the system in ‘the history books of the Old Testament counts
the months between the king’s accession and the new year as a complete
year, whereas the method most usual in Babylon called those months the
accession year and began to count the years of a king’s reign from the first
new year.’ Similarly, today some cultures count a baby as 1 year old when
born, while others do not count babies as 1 year old until their 1st
birthday. By Babylonian reckoning, then, the events took place in
Jehoiakim’s 3rd year, not his 4th year. By Hebrew reckoning, the events
occurred in Jehoiakim’s 4th year. Babylon is the book’s setting, so it is
natural for the author to employ that dating system. On the second issue,
Babylonian records contain key dating information. The Babylonian
Chronicles indicate that in spring and summer 605 BC, Nebuchadnezzar,
Nabopolassar’s co–regent, led Babylon’s armies at Carchemish. He
routed the Egyptians, took at least northern Syria, and forced many kings
to pay tribute. Since Egypt put Jehoiakim in power (2 Kings 23:31–35), he
was probably one of the kings forced to pay tribute. When Nabopolassar
died in August, Nebuchadnezzar returned to Babylon, and took the throne
in September. He rejoined his forces shortly, and came home to Babylon in
604 BC. In 601 BC Egypt defeated Babylon in a key contest, so Jehoiakim
may have withheld tribute then. On the third matter, the typical English
translation of Daniel 1:1 may be too specific, and unintentionally
misleading. Most have something like ‘Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon
came to Jerusalem and besieged it.’ There are two basic problems with
this translation tradition. First, both Daniel 1:1 and 2 Kings 25:1, which
describe Babylon’s action against Jerusalem in 587 BC, contain the
Hebrew word translated ‘came/went’. However, there is no Hebrew
preposition corresponding to ‘to’ in Daniel 1:1, as there is in 2 Kings
25:1. Thus, Daniel 1:1 states that Nebuchadnezzar went towards
Jerusalem, but does not indicate that he marched all the way there, as a
similar phrase in 2 Kings 24:10 makes certain to do. He may have
achieved his objectives without going all the way to Jerusalem. Second,
‘besieged’ implies a city surrounded by enemy armies building siege
ramps and machines of war. For example, 2 Kings 25:1–2 reports that
during the 587 BC invasion Nebuchadnezzar ‘came with all his army
against Jerusalem and encamped, and they built siege works all around it,
and the city came under siege until the 11th year of King Zedekiah’. None
of this gathering of large forces, encamping or building siege works
36
occurs in Daniel 1:1. The word translated ‘besieged’ can mean that, or it
can mean ‘confined’, ‘opposed’ (Esther 8:11), ‘initiated conflict’ or
‘treated as an enemy’. Context must decide. Nebuchadnezzar may have
achieved his aim without having to lay siege to the place. Given the lack of
other textual evidence, it seems logical to take the latter set of definitions
as reasonable explanations of the post–Carchemish tribute gathering
that the Babylonian Chronicles mention. That is, as part of chasing
Egyptian forces south, Nebuchadnezzar’s army ‘initiated conflict’ with
Jehoiakim’s army on account of his alliance with Egypt, or ‘confined’ him
to his capital city. The king’s submission was Nebuchadnezzar’s ultimate
goal. When Jehoiakim saw Nebuchadnezzar’s power and Egypt’s
weakness, he agreed to pay tribute rather than risk further consequences.
This scenario could account for Jehoiakim deciding to serve
Nebuchadnezzar 3 years, before turning to Egypt again in 601 BC. It could
also alleviate the necessity of explaining a full–blown siege that the Old
Testament never mentions.”
Finally in v. 2, we read: “within a week, the Lord handed King Jehoiakim
of Judah over to him, along with valuable objects from the house of God.
Nebuchadnezzar brought them to the temple of his god in the land of
Shinar and stored them in its treasure house.”
Thus, Jerusalem’s fate was not merely a matter of being the victim of an
international power struggle between Babylon and Egypt. God was in
control of this situation, and he purposely allowed the Babylonians to
afflict his chosen people. Nebuchadnezzar’s victory was not due to his
brilliance or military might. At the time of the 605 b.c. siege,
Nebuchadnezzar allowed Jehoiakim to remain on the throne of Judah,
though as a vassal to Babylon. But, he took the “valuable objects” from
the Temple and “brought them” to Babylon, where he placed them in one
of the treasury rooms of “the temple of his god.” Also, Nebuchadnezzar
did not take all of the Temple vessels [2 Kings 24:13; Jeremiah 52:17–23].
In fact, each of the three invasions of Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar
resulted in continual removal of the Temple vessels, and the 3rd Temple
plundering in 586 b.c. dethroned Zedekiah [2 Chronicles 36:18].
Furthermore, the use of the term “Shinar” is significant. Earlier
scholarship connected it with ancient Sumer, but recent philological
studies have concluded that “Shinar” is a name for Babylonia.

For example, a Hittite source [the Telepinu Proclamation] indicates that
Mursili I made a campaign against Bābili [or “Babylon”], but a Neo–
Hittite document also reports this same campaign by the same king using
the name uruŠa–an–ḫa–ra [or “Shinar”]. So, God ironically sent
disobedient Judah to the very place known for wickedness and idolatry,
because it was at this location that they would learn how repulsive an
idolatrous civilization could be. Thus, upon arrival in Babylon, the Temple
vessels from Jerusalem were placed in the Babylonian temple that had
been constructed to the honour of pagan deities worshiped by the
Babylonians. Placing the Temple vessels from Jerusalem in the temple of
Marduk held symbolic significance, for it was the Babylonians’ way of
proclaiming that their god was superior to Israel’s God. The Babylonians
attributed their success to their deity, and from their perspective Marduk
was the champion god. Nevertheless, Marduk is obviously no match for
Yahweh, and Israel’s God purposely allowed the Babylonians to do this to
his covenant people, because he was disciplining them for their sinfulness
and rebellion against him. Furthermore, God did not feel slighted that
these impotent Babylonian gods were being credited with superiority over
him, because God knew that he alone is God, and in due time he would
also act to destroy and discredit these insignificant gods [Isaiah 46:1–2].
William Dumbrell [21st century biblical scholar] says: “In Daniel 1,
Nebuchadnezzar’s monochrome policy for his empire of one language, one
common culture, one educational base, all emanating from the ‘land of
Shinar,’ recalls vividly Genesis 11. The book of Daniel is the account of
the clash of two imperiums, world power structures of one form or
another, and the kingdom of God. We are left in no doubt by the laconic
conclusion to Daniel 1: ‘Daniel continued until the 1st year of King
Cyrus.’ In other words, Daniel lived through the entire exile and saw the
downfall of Babylon, which imperium will prevail.”
Thus, the removal of the Temple vessels by Nebuchadnezzar was a
temporary allowance by God. The vessels would eventually find their way
back to the post–exilic Temple, allowing Israel’s worship system to be
resumed in continuity with the nation’s past. The importance of this was
also stressed by Ezra: when Sheshbazzar led the returning exiles to Zion,
he “brought out from storage the service instruments from the Temple of
the Lord, which Nebuchadnezzar had taken from Jerusalem and had
37
placed in the temple of his gods” [Ezra 1:7]. The purpose of stressing
continuity in the use of the same vessels was to demonstrate that the
holiness of Zerubbabel’s Temple was not less than Solomon’s! The
rebuilding of the Temple itself was not enough to restore the worship
system, because more was needed to re–establish continuity with the past.
Peter Ackroyd [20th century biblical scholar] says: “The restoration of the
Temple includes the bringing back of the vessels, and with them the
guarantee that there is a direct link with the earlier worship of the
community. Thus, across the disaster of the exile, in which the loss of the
Temple might seem to mark an irreparable breach, there is a continuity
established which enables the later worshipper to know, through the
actual vessels in use, that he stands with his ancestors in the faith.”
In summary, on the historical surface, the events of vv. 1–2 portray the
defeat of the Judean king at the hands of the Babylonian king. In the
worldview of the ancient Near East, a king’s military victory signalled the
victory of his god over the gods of the conquered people. As a
representative of his god, a king engaged in battle as a way to expand the
god’s territory. This way of seeing the world is evident in the account of
Nebuchadnezzar’s success over Jehoiakim: the Babylonian king took
vessels from the Temple of Israel’s God and transferred them to the coffers
of his god in Babylon. The king’s military victory mirrored the religious
victory of his god over the God of Jerusalem. However, the text
reinterprets these historical events. Nebuchadnezzar’s victory was, in fact,
no victory at all. Rather, the God whose Temple vessels were on their way
to Babylon had given his king and his vessels into the foreign king’s hand.
This was no defeat of Israel’s God, because as he had done centuries
earlier when the Philistines captured the Ark of the Covenant and put it in
the temple of Dagon, Israel’s God only appeared to have been defeated [1
Samuel 4–5]. Actually, God was very much in control. Not only does the
text make clear the real situation behind the events of Jehoiakim’s
downfall, but it also foreshadows the demise of mighty Babylon itself. In
other words, notice that Nebuchadnezzar carried the Temple vessels off to
“Shinar” which was Daniel’s deliberate intent to cause his readers to
mentally link this with the Tower of Babel [Genesis 11:1–9], that there
was a blurring of lines between gods and humans, causing God to judge.
 38

Thus, Daniel wants to remind his readers about this Genesis story, because
Babylon’s end will happen in a similar fashion! Nebuchadnezzar may
worship his god in his Shinar temple, but the ultimate end of Babylon will
soon happen on a night with Belshazzar, where the mighty kingdom of
Babylon comes to an end because of human pride.

Jerome [4th century] concludes: “It should be noted, by way of a spiritual

interpretation, that the king of Babylon was not able to transport all of the
vessels of God and place them in the idol house that he had built himself,
but only a part of the vessels of God’s house. If you go through all of the
works of the philosophers, you will necessarily find in them some portion
of the vessels of God. For example, you will find in Plato that God is
fashioner of the universe. But, because the philosophers combine truth
with error and corrupt the good of nature with many evils, for that reason
they are recorded to have captured only a portion of the vessels of God’s
house, and not all of them in their completeness and perfection.”

4) Why did Nebuchadnezzar try to reprogram Daniel for his court? (1:3–7)

Starting with vv. 3–4, we read: “later, the king ordered Ashpenaz, his
chief officer, to bring in some Israelis of royal and noble descent. They
were to be young men without physical defect, handsome in appearance,
skilled in all wisdom, quick to learn, prudent in how they used knowledge,
and capable of serving in the king’s palace. They were to learn the
literature and language of the Chaldeans.”

So, shortly following Nebuchadnezzar’s siege of Jerusalem, his father

Nabopolassar [626–605 b.c.] died in Babylon, and Nebuchadnezzar hastily
returned to secure the throne and be crowned the next Babylonian king. He
brought with him several choice young Hebrew men [Daniel, Hananiah,
Mishael, and Azariah], to be trained for diplomatic service in the empire.
Undoubtedly, this was a sad and miserable time for these young Jewish
captives. The journey from Jerusalem to Babylon would have amounted to
~1,100 km, if we assume that they marched along one of the northern trade
routes through Damascus that connected to Mari and then down the
Euphrates River. As they neared the end of their long and arduous journey,
the glorious spectre of the ancient city of Babylon began to appear on the
horizon.
Babylon was a city larger, more fortified, and more ornate than anything
the Hebrew youths had ever seen. Through the city ran the mighty
Euphrates River, the lifeline of Mesopotamia. As they drew closer, there
was a large bridge for them to cross before entering one of the many
glorious gates of the city. Just imagine how intimidating the scene must
have been for these Hebrew youths! Walking across the bridge that
spanned the Euphrates, thousands of Babylonians would have been lining
the city walls. Daniel had not chosen to be here. He was only the victim of
circumstances, powerless in himself to change what was happening. From
this point on, his life would never be the same. He was forced to leave
behind his parents and family, his beloved Jerusalem, and the Hebrew

culture with its focus upon the worship of God at the beautiful Temple of
Solomon. These things he would never see again. For the rest of his life he
would be a resident of Babylon. Probably only a young man of ~15 years
at the time, he now faced the daunting challenge of remaining faithful and
true to his God while living in the midst of an idolatrous and pagan
civilization. Thus, the main point here is to show how Daniel and his
friends were uniquely chosen and put through a regimen of training that
would prepare them for governmental service within the Babylonian
Empire. However, their training was meant to strip them of their national
and religious affections, and to conform them to the pagan worldview of
the Babylonians. In essence, they were being reprogrammed to think and
act like the world. So, we are introduced to the criteria by which
Nebuchadnezzar chose candidates for diplomatic service within his
empire. In order to govern such a large diverse empire, Nebuchadnezzar
saw the practical wisdom of recruiting and training individuals from
different ethnic groups of his realm to serve within his state department.
Such individuals, of course, would have to be loyal to the king and
committed to the goals of the empire. This could be achieved by taking
qualified men at an early age, giving them a thorough education in
Babylonian ways, and training them in the procedures of court life. The
choice and preparation of the candidates was entrusted to one of the king’s
confidants, Ashpenaz, whom Daniel describes as “chief officer.” Outdated
translations like the KJV refer to Ashpenaz as “the master of his eunuchs,”
which might imply that he had been emasculated. But, any association
with eunuchs is secondary, going back to the common practice of
employing eunuchs in positions of intimate contact with the court,
especially in caring for wives [Esther 2:3, 14]. Nevertheless, here the
Hebrew term sārîs can mean “court official” without any reference to
sexual impotence. This is because sārîs comes from the Akkadian ša–reši
[or “he who is the head”]. In fact, the same term was used to describe
Potiphar, who was a married man [Genesis 37:36; 39:1]. Furthermore, the
LXX renders this term as archietairos [or “chief friend”], and was used to
describe a trusted person [2 Samuel 16:16]. Thus, the translation “eunuch”
is not correct, and there is little reason contextually to assume that either
Ashpenaz or Daniel [and his friends] were literal eunuchs. So, since the
young Hebrew men [along with the men from other ethnic groups] were
needed for Babylonian diplomatic service, Daniel elaborates more about
the required qualifications by which all the candidates were chosen:
39
1. They needed to be “of royal and noble descent.” This fulfils
Isaiah’s prophecy that descendants of Hezekiah would go into exile
as court officials [Isaiah 39:7]. Since they were brought into exile
in conjunction with Jehoiakim’s exile [v. 2], Daniel was of royal
descent, so he could potentially play a political role between
Babylon and its vassal nation Judah. But, Daniel will serve as the
king’s supernatural adviser, similar to the diviners [later in v. 20].
2. They had to be “without physical defect” and “handsome in
appearance.” The Hebrew word mᵊʾûm [for “physical defect”] can
also mean “moral defect,” but the Babylonians were not scrupulous
about morality. This word occurs in Leviticus 21:17–23, where
men with physical defects were disqualified for priestly service,
which also ironically precludes them of being eunuchs, since a
“crushed testicle” was a “physical defect” [Deuteronomy 23:1].
They had to be “handsome in appearance,” so a premium was
placed upon their looks [any physical handicap was discriminated].
3. They had to be of superior mental acumen. Three phrases are used
to describe the mental ability required, stressing the importance
that was placed on this qualification: the ability to comprehend
knowledge because they were intelligent and discerning.
4. They had to be “capable of serving in the king’s palace.” This
refers to the proper manner of court behaviour, how to conduct
oneself in the king’s presence and to others at the royal court.
Those who could meet these qualifications “were to learn the literature
and language of the Chaldeans.” The Babylonian language was a form of
Akkadian known as Neo–Babylonian. This was a language written in
cuneiform and made up of various combinations of wedge–shaped
characters that were commonly engraved on wet clay tablets with a stylus:

The writing system was not alphabetic, like that used to write English,
Hebrew, or Aramaic, but syllabic. A syllable is a combination of a vowel
and consonants [such as “ud,” “du,” or “dug”]. Because of the number of
possible combinations, a syllabic writing system needs many more signs
than the number of letters used for an alphabet. Thus, ~600 distinct
cuneiform signs are known. The syllabic signs used to write Akkadian
were originally designed by the Sumerians to record their language. The
Sumerians lived in southern Babylonia before the Semitic people who
spoke Akkadian migrated into the region. Sumerian is not a Semitic
language and quite different in nature from Akkadian. As a result the
system was not ideal for writing Akkadian. This contributed to its
complexity when used to write it. So, they would have studied the
Akkadian literature that includes a whole range of historical, religious,
magical, economic, and legal texts in Akkadian, much of which remains
extant today: Laws of Hammurabi [widely copied in Neo–Babylonian
times], the Gilgamesh Epic [which contains a version of the flood story],
Enuma Elish [the Babylonian creation story of how Marduk became king
of the gods], and the Babylonian Chronicle [which gives historical data
concerning activities of Babylonian kings]. The curriculum would have
also included the omen literature with the expectation that Daniel would
have served as a baru [or “seer”], an expert in divination, and could have
included various writings about the magical arts [dream books, celestial
omen collections, and extispicy manuals]. Since knowledge of Sumerian is
helpful in the study of Akkadian, it too was part of the curriculum.
Nevertheless, the Torah banned the practice of such occultic techniques
[Deuteronomy 18:10–12; 1 Samuel 28:3–25], but to read and study this
material was not forbidden. Thus, Daniel and his friends would have
needed a strong walk with God and a biblical mindset to retain the ability
to think critically when engaged in this type of study. This is because this
form of educational process was more than job training. It was an
enculturation process, a shaping of the mind!
Piotr Michalowski [21st century ancient Near Eastern scholar] says: “The
content of this curriculum has little to do with practical administrative
matters. Starting with basic exercises which were meant to facilitate the
learning of cuneiform signs, the students proceeded to learn royal and
divine hymns, debates, literary letters, myths, epics, and other literary
compositions—all of them, in the south at least, in Sumerian. There is little
40
evidence, among the actual school texts, of any training in practical
matters; the model contracts, the mathematical exercises, and the
Akkadian school letters constitute the only known remnants of such
schoolwork. Most of our evidence for administrative instruction comes
only from idealized descriptions of school work found in the literary
debates and in the post–Old Babylonian ‘examination’ texts. What, then,
was the purpose of drilling native speakers of various Semitic languages
and dialects in the intricacies of the Sumerian language and literature?
The answer, I think, is quite clear. The school was an ideological molder
of minds, the place where future members of the bureaucracy were
socialized, where they received a common stock of ideas and attitudes
which bound them together as a class and in many ways separated them
from their original backgrounds. Seen in this light, the literary texts
acquire their proper ideological significance. The royal hymns celebrated
the magnificence of the ruler and the myths perpetuated certain concepts
of eternal cosmic order. I think it will suffice to say that the content of the
texts is in many ways irrelevant to the main point of my argument. It does
not really matter what they learned as long as they learned it and it made
them different. The conceptual dimensions of literacy literally made them
different human beings; they knew of matters that others only imagined
existed, they even knew what year it was. In such a context the
perpetuation of a dead literary language—Sumerian—has a definite
function which helped to define membership in an exclusive club—the
world of the bureaucracy.”
Thus, their esteem for scripture protected them during this time of
indoctrination. Nevertheless, the qualifications presented here may seem at
first glance to be rather exemplary. In other words, the king wanted those
of noble extraction who were outstanding physically and mentally.
However, deeper reflection on these verses reveals that they do not reflect
God’s value system. Nebuchadnezzar’s qualifications smacked of elitism
and humanistic standards, an environment in which everyone was aspiring
to be humanly the best. What was noticeably absent was any esteem for
devotion to God and a corresponding moral lifestyle based on his
standards of righteousness. However, in the sovereignty of God, Daniel
and his three friends met Nebuchadnezzar’s criteria and were elevated to
important positions of influence within this realm. This is because their
moral character was sharp, and they knew their own traditions well.
 41

Theodoret [5th century Bishop of Cyr] says: “The God of all makes evident Joan Louise Oates [21st century archaeologist] says: “The image was fed,
the foolishness, infirmity, and loathsome ways of the world in order to put in a ceremonial fashion accompanied by music, from offerings and the
to shame its power and wisdom. People who care for bodily things and produce of the temple land and flocks. When the god was ‘eating’, he was,
seek beauty, greatness, and great bodily strength, know nothing of divine at least in later times, hidden from human view, even the priests, by linen
wisdom, but rather only a false and artificial sort of eloquence. This is the curtains surrounding the image and his table. When the god had ‘eaten’,
distance between humanity and God. The false pretence of the king is the dishes from his meal were sent to the king for consumption. What was
shown as he wished not only the other captives be servants, but also that not destined for the table of the main deity, his consort, his children or the
they be descendents from kings. Now all this happened just as Isaiah had servant gods was distributed among the temple administrators and
predicted to Hezekiah: ‘And some of your own sons will become slaves, craftsmen. The quantities of food involved could be enormous.”
yes eunuchs, in the palace of the king of Babylon’ [Isaiah 39:7].”
Also, an exciting discovery of a group of tablets excavated in the southern
Next in v. 5, we read: “the king assigned them fine food and choice wine palace at Babylon show that Jehoiachin and his five sons received rations
on a daily basis, ordering them to be trained for three years, at the end of of oil from the royal stores. These cover the years from 595–560 b.c.
which time they would enter the king’s service.” which matches when Nebuchadnezzar besieged Jerusalem, and when
Jehoiachin submitted to him and was taken as a captive [2 Kings 24:12]. It
So, the king specified both their period of training as well as the diet they says: “1.5 sila [a Babylonian unit for oil equivalent to ~0.8 L] for three
were to observe. Their diet would now consist of the same food the king carpenters from Arvad, 0.5 apiece; 11.5 sila for eight woodworkers from
ate, as well as the wine that he drank. This is because the Hebrew word Byblos; 3.5 sila for seven Greek craftsman, 0.5 sila apiece; 0.5 sila to the
paṯ–bag is a loanword from the Old Persian word patibaga, or the Elamite carpenter, Nabuetir; 10 sila to Ia–ku–u–ki–nu, the king of Judah’s son; 2.5
word batibaziš, referring to food for the royal court, which would be of sila for the five sons of the Judean king.”
finest quality. Nevertheless, it does not signify any particular kind of food.
It was often barley and oil, and sometimes meat. Many people were
assigned daily rations from the king’s table: courtiers, officials, artisans,
foreign dignitaries, basically those who were considered to be in some way
part of the king’s household. Those receiving such rations were expected
to show loyalty to the king in return. Thus, his motivation was to ensure
that they had the finest provisions so as to become as strong and healthy as
possible. However, despite what might have been a valid motivation, such
a diet reflected a lifestyle in which godly values were ignored. For the
Hebrew youths, the diet meant defilement [later in v. 8], though we are not
told specifically what the nature of the violation was. Perhaps this involved
a violation of the Old Testament dietary laws [Leviticus 11; Deuteronomy
14:3–21]. Another possibility is that these foods were considered defiled
because they were the product of pagan sacrificial use. God’s people were
forbidden to eat foods that had been sacrificed or offered to pagan deities
or idols [Exodus 34:15], as was the case in Babylon, where food was
served to idols and then later eaten by the king’s court.

Furthermore, the king specified that the period of training be “three years”
which is likewise attested in other ancient Near Eastern cultures. For
example, Plato [4th century b.c. Greek philosopher] says that the education
of Persian youths began in their 14th year [Alcibiades 1:121], and
Xenophon [4th century b.c. Greek philosopher] mentions the 16th or 17th
years as the close [Cyropaedia 1, 2]. Likewise the collection of sacred
texts used by Zoroastrian priests [the Avesta] says that a student for holy
training should go to a master for 3 years. So, in Daniel’s case, though this
pertains to Babylonian culture, it is quite conceivable that the trends would
have been similar. This means Daniel was between ~14 year and ~16 years
when he was taken to Babylon, and at the end of this 3–year training, he
was expected to be ready for service to the king!
Finally in vv. 6–7, we read: “included among the people of Judah were
Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah. The chief officer assigned the
name ‘Belteshazzar’ to Daniel, the name ‘Shadrach’ to Hananiah, the
name ‘Meshach’ to Mishael, and the name ‘Abednego’ to Azariah.”
Since it was common in the ancient Near East to give theophoric names to
one’s children, the names always had a special meaning, usually honouring
God. For example, notice that the Hebrew word ’ēl [or “God”] is suffixed
at the end of Daniel, while the Hebrew verb dîn [from which we get
“Dan”] means “to judge” [so Daniel = “God is my judge”]. Thus, such
names were meant to give glory to Israel’s God, and the same was true of
Daniel’s three friends. Why then were their names changed? The new
names were based on the names of Babylonian deities, and the young men
had a new identity in relation to the gods of Babylon. But, renaming the
young men was also intended to demonstrate domination over them:
Hebrew Name Babylonian Name
Daniel “God is my judge” Belteshazzar “May Bel protect his life!”
Hananiah “Yahweh is gracious” Shadrach “The command of Aku”
Mishael “Who is what God is?” Meshach “Who is what Aku is?”
Azariah “Yahweh has helped” Abednego “Servant of Nabu”
So, Daniel and his companions are each given Akkadian–Babylonian
names, not only to make their names easier for Babylonians to pronounce,
42
but also to enculturate them. Babylon became a cosmopolitan home to
various ethnic groups, and the Aramaic language was more widely spoken
than Babylonian by this time. However, Babylonian civilization remained
the cultural norm, which is why the Chaldeans [of whom Nebuchadnezzar
was one], who had migrated to Babylonia themselves, adopted Babylonian
names in the process of acculturation, as did other ethnic groups besides
the Jews who found themselves living in Babylon. The intent is religious
indoctrination as well as education. Each Hebrew name refers to the God
of Israel, whereas the new Babylonian names, though there are
uncertainties in the exact etymologies, refer to Babylonian gods, as
Nebuchadnezzar himself explains for Belteshazzar [later in Daniel 4:8].
The Babylonians sought to assimilate these Jews into their polytheistic
culture and wean them from their own religion. This was an affront to
God’s call for his people to be holy and distinct from the nations. Thus,
Daniel’s Babylonian name Belteshazzar is derived from Akkadian:
1. The word beletsharuṣṣur [or “may Ishtar protect the king”].
2. The word balaṭsu–uṣṣur [or “may Marduk/Nabu protect his life”].
3. A garbled form of belshazzar [or “may Bel protect the king”].
In other words, Daniel’s Babylonian name is the same name as that of a
subsequent king, though Daniel’s book garbles this Babylonian name to
distinguish the two men and to obscure the association of Daniel’s name
with a false god. Likewise, Hananiah is renamed Shadrach, which is either
an intentionally garbled pronunciation of Marduk or derived from
šaduraku [or šuduraku] that means “I am very much afraid.” Another
proposal is that Shadrach is from šudur–Aku [or “the command of Aku”],
but no deity by the name of Aku is known in the Babylonian pantheon,
though it could be a garbled form of Anu. Nevertheless, the noun Aku
means “cripple” [or can be spelled akku = “owl”]. Furthermore, the
Akkadian noun šudur does not exist, and the meaning of the rare word
šudduru [or šunduru] is unknown. Then we see that Mishael is renamed
Meshach, which is derived from Akkadian mešaku [or “I am
insignificant”], or mešahu [or “I am forgiven”]. Another proposal is that it
is from mi–sha–Aku [or “who is what Aku is?”]. Finally, Azariah is
renamed Abednego, which is derived from abdi nabu [or “servant of
Nabu”] in which the divine name Nabu is intentionally garbled to Nego by
replacing the Hebrew letter ‫ ּב‬with the next Hebrew letter ‫ּג‬.

This is then influenced by an Aramaic wordplay on Nabu, which reads:
ebed (arad)–negu [or “servant of the shining one” = Nabu]. Thus, these
new names were obviously meant to erase their previous identity and to
associate them more closely with Babylonian culture and religion.
Babylonian allegiance was expected to follow their new identity and
enlightened education. Renaming them was the quintessential attack on
their heritage and faith. How degrading this must have been for these
young men so committed to their true God of Israel!
Philip Chia [21st century Intercultural scholar] further explains the details:
“Segregation is a common practice of the colonizer’s political strategy, to
divide and rule. Even before the Babylonians, Assyrian imperial policy
practiced the dispersal of captives and dissemination of colonial
knowledge for the purpose of control and domination. The selection of the
best of the best Israelites, even including the ‘royal seed,’ is in fact a form
of neo–colonialism, in that colonized elite are being transformed or re–
educated in order to serve the purpose of the colonizer. Nebuchadnezzar, a
well–seasoned colonizer, has strategy to turn the potential danger around
for his own advantages, to rule his subjugates with the colonized elite.
Neo–colonialism has proven to be an effective strategy in many of the
Commonwealth countries. Through re–education, the culture, religion,
and knowledge of the colonized are transformed in order to serve the
purpose of the colonizer. Colonialism takes place in Jerusalem and neo–
colonialism takes place in the Babylonian kingdom. The next logical move
for Nebuchadnezzar, the colonizer, is to name their subjugates. The
Jewish names of the four Judean youths were carefully noted before
changing them to Chaldean names, as articulated by the narrator. Daniel
is renamed as Belteshazzar, Hananiah renamed as Shadrach, Mishael as
Meshach, and Azariah as Abednego. Although scholars do not agree on
the precise meaning of their names, most would think that their new
Chaldean names have to do with Babylonian religions and the names of
Babylonian deities. The significance of the names, however, lies not so
much in their meaning; rather, it lies in the fact that as
subjugator/colonizer, they are being named by their subjugator/colonizer;
it is done by a power that assumes the authority to make such a change.
The naming of the subject, as in the creation story, carries with it a notion
of domination and lordship over the subject. The naming or re–naming in
biblical literature is also a sign of inferior, subordinate and dependent
43
status; Eliakim was renamed by Pharaoh Neco as Jehoiakim (2 Kings
23:34), and Mattaniah was changed to Zedekiah by Nebuchadnezzar (2
Kings 24:17). Ashcroft, in The Post–Colonial Studies Reader, has
captured the essence of naming the subject in the act of colonization: ‘One
of the most subtle demonstrations of the power of language is the means by
which it provides, through the function of naming, a technique for
knowing a colonised place or people. To name the world is to
‘understand’ it, to know it, and to have control over it. To name reality is
therefore to exert power over it, simply because the dominant language
becomes the way in which it is known. In colonial experience this power is
by no means vague or abstract. A systematic education and indoctrination
installed the language and thus the reality on which it was predicated as
preeminent.’ The naming of Daniel and his friends in Chaldean language
also means the change of their Jewish identity to one of a hybridity. The
emphasis on identity as doubled, or hybrid, or unstable is one
characteristic of the postcolonial approach to reading literature. By the
change of names, they have been transformed into Chaldeans with
Jewish blood. Yet, they are supposedly to take it as an honour to serve the
Babylonian empire with all honesty and loyalty, as any Babylonian would
do. From this moment onward, Daniel and friends will have to live with
a hybrid identity, mentally, socially, and physically. Though this might be
some kind of a torture, and not much can be done with regards to the
change of their names by their colonizer, yet the narrator continues to use
their Jewish name in the narrative and throughout the book as a means of
resistance to colonial rule. Such resistance can appear in different forms
and in other areas of their lives, as the narrator develops the story,
increasing the reader’s anticipation. On the naming of Daniel’s Chaldean
name, Fewell suggests that they might be engineered by their colonizer to
go through a classic model of a rite of passage, ‘a ritual designed to
facilitate a person’s passing from one phase of life into another.’ With the
three stages in the classic model of ritual process, Fewell concludes that:
‘This match between Nebuchadnezzar’s plan and a rite of passage
strengthens our understanding of the training as not simply professional
education. The young men are to learn the Babylonian profession, and
confess Babylonian allegiance. Such a transformation benefits the king;
the captives must be made to see that such a transformation benefits them
as well. The narrator, however, leaves the reader two options for judging
what is happening to the young Judeans. In one sense their rite of passage

is a promotion from prisoners to professional. But, in another sense, the
passage is a demotion from ‘royal seed’ to servanthood.’ There is a
difference, however, in the cultural anthropological model of Victor
Turner and that of Nebuchadnezzar’s strategy in Daniel 1. Though there
may be some resemblance in the two situations, there is a spirit of
resistance, politically and religiously, in Daniel’s case, on the one hand,
and they were forced to accept the transformation and brainwashing as
prisoners of war, on the other. The model of a rite of passage is, after all,
an observed phenomenon in primitive society in transition. Identity and
name are very personal belongings; being and existence are rooted in
them. The change of one’s name without one’s consent or by force, not
only is an insult to one’s integrity and dignity, but also a denial of the
right to ancestry. As pointed out by Samuel Huntington: ‘People define
themselves in terms of ancestry, religion, language, history, values,
customs, and institutions.’ For hundreds of years, the naming of Chinese
people by the westerner has been a painful experience. For instance, the
two names, Mao Ze–dong or Deng Xiao–ping, are never required by
western media to reverse the order in introducing their names, while it is a
common practice to reverse the order of the names for all other Chinese
names (almost 25% of the entire world population). If one insisted on
writing one’s Chinese name according to the order of the Chinese
characters, then it will almost certainly be mistaken by a westerner who
will take the last character as the last name or surname. One’s ancestrial
tradition is defined by one’s surname. There is a saying in Chinese:
‘Standing, I don’t change my surname; Sitting, I don’t change my name.’
This means one will stand by one’s own words once uttered. This shows
the importance of one’s name in Chinese culture, like many others. Under
the British rule, English education has forced many colonized people to
change their names and identities. Often, names that reflect the western
religion (Christianity) are taken with little knowledge of it, like that of
Daniel and friends’ Chaldean names. That the narrator carefully
articulated this element of name changing into the narrative of Daniel
under Nebuchadnezzar, the colonizer, is by no means an accident. It is a
voice for human integrity and dignity. The voice of dissident is being
transmitted in the form of character play, through the action of Daniel
who resisted the temptation of status at the risk of his life, as the story
develops in the next section. With a new socio–political status for Daniel
and the youths, king Nebuchadnezzar can expect the best of their service
44
for his kingdom. Although as Fewell observed, ‘The reader might even be
tempted to consider Nebuchadnezzar a generous, tolerant monarch with
worthy aesthetic and intellectual values,’ the narrator seems to have
another thought in mind: to carry on his/her scheme of resistance to
colonial rule, as the story develops further into Daniel’s resistance to the
eating culture of the palace.”
Jerome [4th century] concludes: “It is not only the overseer or master of the
eunuchs (as others have rendered it, the chief eunuch) who changed the
names of saints, but also Pharaoh called Joseph in Egypt Zaphenath–
paneah [Genesis 41:45], for neither of them wished to have Jewish names
in the land of captivity. Wherefore the prophet says in the psalm, ‘How
shall we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land?’ [Psalm 137:4]
Furthermore, the Lord himself changes names benignly, and on the basis
of events imposes names of special significance, so as to call Abram
Abraham, and Sarai Sarah [Genesis 17:5, 15]. Also in the Gospel, the
former Simon received the name of Peter, and the sons of Zebedee are
called ‘sons of thunder’ [Mark 3:16].”
5) How did Daniel resolve not to compromise his faith in God? (1:8–16)
Starting with vv. 8–10, we read: “Daniel determined within himself not to
become defiled by the king’s menu of rich foods or by the king’s wine, so
he requested permission from the chief officer not to defile himself. God
granted to Daniel grace and compassion on the part of the chief officer.
The chief officer told Daniel, ‘I fear his majesty the king, who has
determined what you eat and drink. If he notices your faces are paler than
the other young men in your group, I will forfeit my head to the king.’”
Nebuchadnezzar had appointed a special food regimen for the young men.
For most of the Gentiles participating in the program, the diet posed no
special problem. In fact, they considered themselves blessed that they had
it so good, because they would be eating well! However, for Daniel and
his friends, the diet was a problem, either because it involved unclean
foods [according to the Torah] or because the food and drink had
previously been sacrificed to idols. So, although the entire training
program was built on humanistic values and a thoroughly pagan
education, the Hebrews could still participate without disobeying God!

But, the food issue would have meant a clear–cut act of disobedience
before God. Thus, Daniel and his friends were faced with two decisions:
1. Whether they would be faithful regardless of the consequences.
2. How they would handle the situation and communicate their beliefs
to their Babylonian superiors.
So, the main point of this passage is to show how Daniel’s decision to
obey God was met by God’s faithfulness to act on his behalf! God made a
way for Daniel to obey God and yet still remain in the training program,
because just as God gave Jehoiakim and the Temple treasures into the
hands of Nebuchadnezzar, he gave favour and compassion to Daniel.
Bill Arnold [21st century biblical scholar] says: “The irony of the word
play is that the Babylonians think they have changed Daniel’s character,
but the narrator knows otherwise. They succeeded in changing all the
circumstances of his life, and the name change in v. 7 represents Daniel’s
complete transformation, at least from the Babylonian perspective. But,
the inner resolve and dedication revealed by the word play in v. 8 is the
narrator’s full portrait of Daniel and transcends even the description of
his impressive personal and intellectual skills in v. 3–4. It is his
commitment to God that sets Daniel apart, and prepares the reader for the
continued conflict between aggressive world powers and God’s servants.”
Nevertheless, this whole situation might not seem so significant, because
what would is so bad about eating the food that the king apportioned?
Some scholars conclude that this was a ritual issue while others consider it
a moral one. But, there is no specific mention in the text that this was the
issue behind their refusal, and these explanations fail to explain why a
vegetarian diet was sufficient to solve the dilemma. Thus, Daniel was far
more interested in highlighting their concern of obedience to God than on
what exactly the defilement was. In other words, every decision to obey
God always involves the opportunity to have done otherwise. When we
obey God, we have acted in faith; otherwise it is more convenient or
enticing not to obey. Thus, Daniel’s decision was a choice of faith, in
which obedience to God became more important than what might have
been momentarily more convenient or beneficial for him. So, as we reflect
upon Daniel’s decision to obey, we would do well to consider his life from
45
the broader perspective. Daniel was a person whom God greatly used, and
he was a person to whom God revealed marvellous truths. What we must
be careful to see is the relationship between his obedience and the resulting
use God made of his life. Daniel is a good model for how we ought to have
sensitivity to God and a desire to please him in every decision we make.
One of the benefits in studying the bible is that it not only teaches us what
is right and wrong, but it lets us see this fleshed out in the lives of men and
women who were faithful, who had convictions, and they lived by them.
Godly men and women live with convictions, and they stick by them even
when this puts them at odds with the world and its value system.
Convictions are the truths we are committed to live by, regardless of
whether others agree with us, and regardless of what price we have to pay
for keeping them. What Daniel had resolved in his heart was one thing;
how he would handle the situation was another. Think for a moment how
Daniel might have responded:
1. He could have planned an escape from Babylon and run away.
2. He could have acted defiantly and simply told the authorities he
would not obey their rules.
However, v. 8 tells us that he “requested permission from the chief officer
not to defile himself.” Thus, the irony is that he sought permission from a
human in charge not to defile himself. We learn from this that obeying
God is only one side of the coin, for we are also responsible as to how we
obey God before others. Daniel’s obedience toward God was balanced by
a respect for authority. While we live in this world, we will often be in
situations where we are placed under the authority of non–believers. God
still expects us to honour them; and we honour God by honouring the lines
of authority that he has permitted to exist [Romans 13:1–7; 1 Timothy 2:1–
2; 1 Peter 2:13–15]. Daniel and his friends certainly took a risk in making
an issue of the king’s diet. They were probably prepared to pay the
consequences of their choice! There are times when we must suffer for
choosing to obey God. So, in this particular case, God honoured their
obedience. Then v. 9 says, “God granted to Daniel grace and compassion
on the part of the chief officer” [words reflecting a fulfilment of 1 Kings
8:50; Psalm 106:46]. One of the wonderful things about being a believer is
that we are never left alone! We cannot see God visibly, but he often
works in his own sovereign and mysterious ways on our behalf.

He can even turn the hearts of unbelievers to do his will and accomplish
his purposes. As Solomon said, “a king’s heart is a water stream that the
Lord controls; he directs it wherever he pleases” [Proverbs 21:1]. This is
exactly what God did in the case of the head of the court officials who
were over Daniel. Rather than being wrathful and vindictive toward
Daniel, God caused him to be favourably disposed toward him; to be
sympathetic toward him. Without a doubt, God used Daniel’s
respectfulness as part of the process. The head official’s initial reaction
was one of hesitation. In his opinion, the king’s diet would lead to better
health and appearance, but another diet was bound to be less beneficial. He
was concerned that the effects would even show up in their countenance:
“If he notices that your faces are more pale than the other young men in
your group, I will forfeit my head to the king.” The rare Hebrew word
zā ap [for “more pale”] suggests that the proposed diet would even result
in a sullen look on their faces [Genesis 40:6]. The head official realized
that such consequences could even mean the loss of his own life, as he
would be held responsible for what had happened.
Jerome [4th century] says: “He who was taken into captivity on account of
the sins of his ancestors received an immediate reward for the measure of
his own virtue. For he had purposed in his heart that he would not be
defiled by food from the king’s table and preferred humble fare to royal
delicacies; therefore, by the bountiful favour of the Lord, he received
favour and compassion in the sight of the prince of the eunuchs. By this we
may understand that if ever under pressing circumstances holy people are
loved by unbelievers, it is a matter of the mercy of God, not of the
goodness of perverted people.”
Theodoret [5th century Bishop of Cyr] concludes: “For those who love God
do not seek after the God of all in just one place, but even in the midst of
this misfortune they worshiped as if in the house of the Creator. In that
place there are many wondrous moments to be found. For having been
reared on the teachings of the Jews and having learned the customary
service to God, they now were dwelling in a foreign land and were being
forced into slavery exactly at the prime of their life. They were forced to
abide under the foreign customs. But, having seen the Babylonians offer
defiled meat to the idols and the polluted libations at the temple, they took
heed and, neglecting their own safety, rejected the king’s banquet,
46
beseeching the chief eunuch to allow them to be excused from partaking of
the king’s food. This pointless objection of the eunuch was cowardly. The
eunuch was a man whose spirit did not know grace, but took pleasure in
his own sensuality. Of this man and human morality, take heed as there is
the opinion that sumptuous feeding on nutritious foods provides for the
body nourishment enough for it to flourish. In fact, it is not with such
indulgence that you should chance your life, for it was with a small
portion and by way of self–control that Daniel and his friends flourished.”
Next in vv. 11–13, we read: “but Daniel told the guard whom the chief
officer had appointed over Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah,
‘Please test your servants for ten days and let us be given vegetables to eat
and water to drink. Then compare how we look with the young men who
ate the king’s rich food, and treat your servants in accordance with what
you observe.’”
Though Daniel had favour in the eyes of the head official, initially the
response was not so favourable. Often God does not allow answers to
prayer to come so quickly or so easily, as was the case here. Through delay
we learn to persevere in prayer and in faith. However, in just such a time,
God enabled Daniel to come up with some creative thinking: a short–term
test for 10 days in which the Hebrew young men would eat vegetables and
water. This proposal was apparently not presented to the head official
directly, but to the “guard” who had been placed over them. Whether or
not he relayed the proposal to the head official immediately, we do not
know. Most likely the head of the court officials was involved in
approving the arrangement at some point [recall v. 9]. The idea of eating
only vegetables and water may not have been as restrictive as one might
think. The Hebrew word zērōa [for “vegetables”] has the basic idea of
that which grows from zera [or “seed”]. This would include not only
vegetables, but fruits, grains, and bread made from grains. In other words,
this would have been quite a healthy diet! Thus, the test was simple: if
after 10 days the Hebrew youths looked fine, they could be allowed to
continue the alternative diet. Thus, the important theological ramifications
here is that every time a meal was served, these exiles from Judah would
remember, that although they had no choice but to live in Babylon and
absorb its culture, they nonetheless chose to be nourished and cared for by
God, rather than by the king of Babylon!

Leander [6th century Bishop of Seville] says: “A fish is caught by being
enticed by a hook. A bird falls into a net while trying to get food. Animals
that are tough by nature’s endowment fall into a pit from the desire to eat,
and what nature does not soften, food deceives. Therefore, learn
temperance and parsimony from the prayer and the examples of
ancients: from prayer, because the Lord says, ‘Lest your hearts be
overburdened with self–indulgence and drunkenness’ [Luke 21:34]; from
examples, because David was unwilling to drink the water he wanted,
since he recognized the danger of being responsible for another’s blood [2
Samuel 23:14–17]; because Daniel scorned the feasts of kings and lived on
vegetables. What you possess in common with your companions should be
acceptable to you, and you should not cause others to be intemperate;
also, do not become a cause for scandal to those to whom you wish to set
an example by encouragement and by proof of a good life.”
Finally in vv. 14–16, we read: “so he listened to what Daniel said and
tested them for ten days. At the end of ten days their appearance was
better and their faces were well–nourished compared to the young men
who ate the king’s rich food. So the guard took away their rich food and
wine, giving them vegetables.”
Thus, the guard permitted the test, and after 10 days there was a noticeable
outcome. In fact, rather than looking dejected or haggard, their appearance
was better and their bodies healthier in comparison with the others.
Although the basic meaning of the Hebrew word bārîʾ [for “well–
nourished”] can mean “fat,” it generally means to describe healthy
humans, animals, and vegetation. Thus, in a world where starvation and
malnutrition were greater dangers than obesity, fatter [well–fed] was
healthier! In Pharaoh’s dream, the skinny [unhealthy] cows and grain are
contrasted with the fat [healthy] cows and grain [Genesis 41:3–7].
Likewise, the wealthy are described as “fat” in the sense of well–fed and
healthy [Psalm 73:4]. It is known today that a vegetarian diet, so long as it
includes items with enough protein, vitamins, and minerals, can be as
healthy as any non–vegetarian diet. Thus, they were allowed to continue
their alternative diet with the guard’s knowledge and authorization.
6) Why were their results summa cum laude and then some? (1:17–21)
47
Starting with v. 17, we read: “as for these four young men, God gave
them knowledge, aptitude for learning, and wisdom. Daniel also could
understand all kinds of visions and dreams.”
So, this summarizes God’s blessing and reward upon the Hebrew youths
who were obedient to him. The key thought here is upon what “God” did:
he gave them these special gifts. This should not be taken to mean that the
young men did not seriously apply themselves in their studies and training.
Obviously they did. However, in the final analysis, God gave them their
success. Thus, God enjoys rewarding his children for their obedience. How
God chooses to honour his children is his prerogative [1 Samuel 2:30], and
we should keep in mind that God is the one who rewards, not us, and we
must learn to accept the gifts that God chooses to give according to his
sovereign will. This passage does not mean to imply that obedient
believers will always have earthly success, or that obedience will always
lead to promotion in school, government, or business. There will be times
when we are hopeful of some special attainment, but God may not allow
us to have that which we have desired, even if the goal may have been
good, or if we walk obediently with God. In other words, we can and will
be disappointed at times, but we must respond maturely and realize on
such occasions that God has not ordained such gifts or crowning success
for us. God may choose to reward us in this earthly life, or he may choose
to reward us at the resurrection [1 Corinthians 3:12–15; 4:3–5; 2
Corinthians 5:9–10; Revelation 22:12]. So, we must let God be the judge
of what is best and what fits in most appropriately with his sovereign
purposes. In Daniel’s context, notice carefully the nature of the reward that
the young men received. Their reward did not come in the form of being
set free or being allowed to return to Jerusalem [things that they might
have wished for]. Their faithfulness to God paid off in ways that really
mattered: to be equipped for their God–given mission in Babylon.
The Process The Outcome
God distinguished
Knowing Inner them by granting them
Wise Endurance
what God conviction what they needed to
implementation for ~3 years
desires to obey succeed in his mission
for them

The Hebrew word haśkēl [for “aptitude for learning”] informs us that God
gave them a special ability for comprehending the Babylonian literature in
which they studied. The things that Nebuchadnezzar had desired [wisdom,
knowledge, understanding; recall v. 4], God gave these four young men.
However, Daniel was singled out for further distinctive honours. He had
understanding about [or he discerned] every kind of vision, as well as
dreams. This statement prepares us for the remainder of the book in which
we see Daniel’s unique role of interpreting dreams and receiving visions.
Daniel’s honour must also be seen in light of the emphasis put on dreams
and visions in Babylonian culture [later in Daniel 2:1–13]. In Babylon,
great stress was put upon the understanding of dreams and visions, though
the techniques used for their discernment were entirely occultic. The
“astrologers and enchanters” [later in v. 20] had a highly developed
methodology for interpreting dreams and visions. Thus, Daniel was gifted
by God for dealing with such phenomena, but he did not have to rely on
the occultic methods that the king’s advisors typically did. The
Mesopotamians believed that the gods communicated messages to them in
various ways, and it was the diviner’s task to obtain and interpret these
messages or omens. There were three types of divinatory practice:
1. The study of unsolicited omens: observing various forms of natural
phenomena, such as astronomical and meteorological events, the
behaviour of animals, and abnormal births.
2. The obtaining of omens by using various techniques for asking a
question of the gods and obtaining an answer. Some of the
techniques used were dropping oil on water and observing the
shapes formed, burning incense and observing the shapes made by
the smoke, and sacrificing an animal and observing its entrails,
especially the liver.
3. The use of human mediums. Prophecy was not common in
Mesopotamia, being attested mainly from its western fringes, such
as at Mari. Dream interpretation was more widespread.
Necromancy was also practiced.
So, from the 2nd millennium b.c. onward, a considerable amount of
Akkadian literature developed around omens. Collections of different
48
types of omens were made. Instruction manuals were written. The reports
of diviners were recorded. Various rituals and prayers related to divination
were written down. Different forms of divination were popular at various
times and places. Then from the 1st millennium b.c. onward, the study of
animal entrails, abnormal births, and astronomical phenomena [the origins
of modern astrology] were particularly popular.
Ernest Lucas [21st century biblical scholar] says: “Dreams played only a
secondary role in Mesopotamian divination. They were more important in
the reigns of some kings than others, perhaps a reflection of the king’s
personal piety. Dreams were thought to be messages from the gods
brought by a spirit messenger whose Akkadian name was Zaqiqu.
Basically two types of dream were recognized as communications from the
gods. In message dreams a divine being spoke directly to the dreamer, so
that interpretation was not needed. A symbolic dream involved the
dreamer seeing or experiencing something, the meaning of which was not
obvious; thus, interpretation was needed. All known records of this kind
of dream come from Sumerian or Babylonian sources rather than Assyrian
ones. Interpretation could be done in one of two ways. Deductive
interpretation relied on consultation of collections of dream omens (called
‘dream books’), which contained lists of things that might occur in dreams
and assigned meanings to each one. Intuitive interpretation depended
simply on the wisdom and insight of the interpreter. There is no evidence
of a specific group of professionals who devoted themselves wholly to
dream interpretation. Instead, this was done by priests, both male and
female, who were competent in several types of divination. When a dream
presaged something bad, there were rituals that could be performed to
prevent this from happening. This is one reason why it was important to
discover the meaning of a dream as soon as possible.”
Thus, we should take notice that this special ability for discerning dreams
and visions was not given to all four young men, but only to Daniel. God
was very selective in terms of the human instrument he used for this [it
was not something every believer could do]. We should also keep in mind
that although God did on occasion speak through dreams, most dreams
were never intended as revelation from God. As is true today, dreams are
typically the result of the brain putting together thoughts and images
during one’s sleep.

However, there are several times in the Old Testament where God
supernaturally interceded with a divinely given dream, even at times with
unbelievers [Genesis 41:1–8]. Visions, in contrast, were only given to
believers [usually Old Testament prophets]. The New Testament includes
very few cases of God using dreams [Matthew 1:20–2:22; 27:19]. There
are some instances in which God gave visions in the New Testament, but
after the gospels, these are infrequent and usually limited to one of the
apostles [Acts 16:9] or to someone God was using in an exceptional way
to advance the gospel. In light of these observations, believers today
should not be overly occupied with trying to interpret dreams, as though
they were divinely given, especially for the purpose of seeking divine
guidance! However, this does not rule out the fact that God might choose
to convey some spiritual insight to unbelievers through a dream.
Furthermore, visions were limited to extraordinary situations after the day
of Pentecost [usually involving an apostle], which should also caution us
from seeking or expecting them today. In other words, special care should
be taken to distinguish dreams and visions from the gift of prophecy in the
New Testament, where the latter was a spiritual gift given by God and not
limited to the apostles. Thus, God can certainly do this if he chooses to,
but our reliance should primarily be upon God’s holy word.
Jerome [4th century] says: “Note that God is said to have given the holy
youths knowledge and learning in secular literature and ‘grammatical
art,’ implying that they understood everything they read, and by the Spirit
of God they could make a judgment concerning the lore of the Chaldeans.
But, Daniel had an outstanding gift over and above the three youths, in
that he could astutely discern the significance of visions and dreams in
which things to come are shown forth by means of certain symbols and
mysteries. Thus, that which others saw only in a shadowy appearance he
could perceive clearly with the eyes of his understanding.”
Next in vv. 18–20, we read: “then at the end of the training period that the
king had established, the chief officer brought them in before
Nebuchadnezzar. When the king spoke to them, none of them compared to
Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, or Azariah as they stood before the king. In
every matter of wisdom or understanding that the king discussed with
them, he found them ten times superior to all the astrologers and
enchanters in his entire palace.”
49
The 3 years that the king had specified for their education and training
[recall v. 5] had now passed. At this point, Ashpenaz, the commander of
the officials, formally presented the candidates to the king. Then
Nebuchadnezzar personally conversed with each of them. Based on his
personal interviews, it was apparent that these four young men outclassed
all the others who had gone through the king’s training. At one point, they
faced the possibility of being eliminated from the program, but now we are
told that “they stood before the king,” which is a reminder that God was
faithful to see them through. In fact, this phrase can also be translated:
“they entered the king’s personal service.” This is because, although the
Hebrew verb āmaḏ followed by lipn simply means to be in one’s
presence [as when Moses stood before Pharaoh; Exodus 9:10], it can also
have the connotation of being there to serve [Genesis 41:46; Numbers
16:9], or in submission and ready to receive orders [Deuteronomy 4:10].
Thus, not only did these four successfully complete the program at the top
of their class, but they even excelled over all the others in the realm who
served as “astrologers and enchanters” [not just the other young trainees].
Why? It is because they were two classes of dignitaries that officially
served in the royal courts of Babylon as advisors to the king. The Hebrew
word ḥarṭummîm [for “astrologers”] is derived from Egyptian ḫr.tp [or
“chief bearer of the ritual scrolls”]. Thus, familiarity with sacred
documents made one an expert in magic and healing, and among the ritual
scrolls were Egyptian books on dream interpretation that go back to the 2nd
millennium b.c. [which means dream interpretation played a greater role in
Egypt than in Mesopotamia]. In fact, the Chester Beatty Dream Book dates
to the 19th Dynasty of Egypt, but its composition dates to the 12th Dynasty.
It is currently the oldest surviving manual of dream interpretation.

Thus, in the Old Testament, the ḥarṭummîm were Egyptian dream
interpreters who try in vain to interpret Pharaoh’s dream [Genesis 41:8,
24]. They also were magicians [Exodus 7:11, 22; 8:7, 18–19; 9:11] who
tried to imitate the miracles of Moses by their magical arts. But, later in
Neo–Assyrian times, the ḥr.tp became a loan word in Akkadian as ḥartibi
[or “interpreter of dreams”], and mantics in Mesopotamia bearing this title
and having Egyptian names were consulted during or before the time of
Assurbanipal [668–627 b.c.]. In fact, one is listed as a prisoner brought
from Egypt at the time of Esarhaddon [681–669 b.c.]. Thus, since
Nebuchadnezzar invaded Egypt, these ḥarṭummîm were captured in the
war, and served in the king’s courts. In other words, these are the Egyptian
“astrologers” brought to Nebuchadnezzar from the far reaches of his
empire, or else those who had learned Egyptian magical lore, including the
art of dream interpretation.
Gleason Archer [20th century biblical scholar] says: “A ḥarṭōm was
probably a diviner, one who used some sort of inscribed chart or magical
design (possibly imposed on a chart of the stars) in order to arrive at an
answer to questions put to him. That ḥarṭummîm were diviners using
charts assumes the derivation of this term from ḥereṭ (‘stylus’). Another
explanation takes note of the fact that ḥarṭummîm are mentioned in
Exodus 7–9, where the Egyptian ‘diviners’ confront Moses, and derives
the word from the Egyptian ḥry–tp, which allegedly means ‘soothsayer
priest.’ Although the Egyptian lexicons define it as a general word for
overseer, chieftain, or governor, literally it means ‘he who is over the head
of,’ and as such could mean a head priest, or someone of that sort.”
Furthermore, the other Hebrew word ʾaššāpîm [for “enchanters”] is
derived from the Akkadian word āšipu [or “diagnostician”], and this acted
as a physician in connection with medical practice, but by modern
standards as an exorcist or witch doctor. Thus, the ašipu drove away
demons, worms, or bad luck that caused illness or nightmares. In other
words, with their spells and incantations, they communicated with the
unseen realm, and received food offered to deities as priestly personnel.
Stephen Miller [21st century biblical scholar] says: “Today magicians are
commonly thought of as persons who do tricks, like pulling rabbits out of
hats. Although we may assume trickery often was involved, the Babylonian
50
magicians performed serious functions. Supposedly in touch with the
world of the spirits and the gods, these individuals were the advisers to
the king on virtually every matter. They employed rites and spells
intended to heal, exorcise demons, or counter an evil spell placed upon the
sufferer. Omens were studied in order to understand the future, and
astrology played an important part in this activity. Techniques, such as
examining a sheep’s liver (hepatoscopy), also were employed in decision
making (Ezekiel 21:21). Dream interpretation was another function of
these wise men as may be observed from ancient sources and Daniel’s
book. Primarily the official magicians were protective and benevolent, but
there were unofficial sorcerers who dealt in black magic and were
supposedly in league with evil forces. Daniel’s cohorts, however, were of
the benevolent variety and sought to protect the king and the kingdom from
the various evils that might arise and to interpret the various messages the
gods might convey. Yet sorcery of any kind is demonic and severely
condemned in scripture (Leviticus 19:26).”
Thus, both of these officials [the “astrologers and enchanters”] served in
important positions to the king. In the Babylonian culture, determining the
will of the gods or the outcome of certain events was highly significant,
and the king relied on these officials to help him in making decisions
through their access to occultic knowledge. However, the point of v. 20 is
not to restrict the comparison of Daniel and his three friends to these two
particular classes of occultic advisors. Instead, these two are representative
of all types of advisors to the king, of which there were other types as well
[later in Daniel 2:2]. Thus, through the wisdom and understanding with
which Daniel and his three friends were able to advise the king, they were
“ten times superior” than all other types of “astrologers and enchanters”
that were found in the Babylonian realms. In fact, by stating that the
Hebrew young men were “ten times superior” may have a subtle allusion
to the 10 plagues by which Moses demonstrated God’s supremacy over the
occult in Egypt [Exodus 7:14–25; 8; 9; 10; 11; 12:29–32]. In other words,
notice that the “astrologers and enchanters” sought their wisdom through
occultic channels, which was vastly inferior to the wisdom that God was
able to give to those who sought him and walked with him [Deuteronomy
18:9–14]. Thus, Daniel will live to exercise his gifts under foreign kings
until 536 b.c. [later in Daniel 10:1], giving “back to Caesar the things that
are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s” [Mark 12:17].
 51

Thus, this cuneiform fragment is an example of the Babylonian practice of

slaughtering sheep and studying their organs for portents of the future.

This examination of the liver of a sacrificial animal was a common form of

Mesopotamian divination called hepatoscopy, and clay models of livers
have been found at many archaeological sites, confirming their widespread
use in antiquity. For example, here is a clay model from ancient Mari in
northern Syria, dated to 1900–1600 b.c., with instructions to liver diviners
on the meaning of blemishes that appear on particular parts of the organ:

Likewise, here is a 3rd millennium b.c. ritualized slaughter of a ram to the

Mesopotamian god Shamash in Mari [Syria], and since Shamash was
associated with justice and truth, his devotees sought his omens by
slaughtering sheep and studying their entrails to find so–called secrets:

David Baker [21st century biblical scholar] concludes: “God revealed
himself through his prophets in the form of visions and dreams. He also
responded to queries through other, less common means, such as casting
lots. The latter, using physical, mechanical means to question a god, was
common among Israel’s neighbours and is called ‘divination.’ It comes in
numerous forms and is strongly condemned as unsuitable for Israel, whose
God is not to be so manipulated (Deuteronomy 18:9–14). Three forms of
divination are mentioned in Ezekiel 21:21, where, when a Babylonian king
needs to decide which direction to take, ‘he will cast lots with arrows, he
will consult his idols, he will examine the liver.’ Rhabdomancy used
arrows or sticks that were thrown to the ground, and an interpretation was
made depending on how they fell. Idol consultation used a type of
household god (teraphim) that was somehow expected to speak. Common
in Mesopotamia was hepatoscopy or extispicy, the examination of animal
entrails, especially the liver. They were carefully inspected by trained
priests who checked for abnormalities, which would communicate a
message from the god regarding the future. In keeping Israel from
misusing animal livers in this way, part of the liver taken from sacrifices
was to be completely burnt. Other types of divination were also used. In
necromancy one consulted with the dead, such as when Saul consulted
Samuel through a medium at Endor (1 Samuel 28:8–19). Mesopotamia
was also the source for astrology, consultation of the heavenly bodies
(Isaiah 47:3). In hydromancy, people interpreted the patterns of oil placed
on water in a cup or bowl, much like reading tea leaves today. In a
practice not referred to in the bible, Mesopotamian and Canaanite priests
also inferred meaning from abnormal animal and human births. Though
scripture condemns these practices, this is not because they do not work.
There is supernatural power in the occult, but it is not open to followers of
the true God. Israel is to depend on God’s self–revelation rather than
manipulating nature to find out secrets (Isaiah 7:11–14). On an individual
level, a reason to know the future was to be able to take action against any
evil that might be coming. Incantations and magic charms were used for
protection against these. For Israel, the power to protect and heal did not
lie in magic or in human strength, but in God, who welcomed prayer and
was ready to protect and save (Isaiah 35:3–6).”
Finally in v. 21, we read: “so Daniel remained there in service until the
first year of King Cyrus.”
52
Thus, since Daniel had just been elevated to a position in the personal
service of the Babylonian king [recall v. 19], he served in an official
governmental capacity throughout the reign of Nebuchadnezzar [who died
in 562 b.c.] and even longer under other Babylonian kings. Eventually, the
Babylonian Empire was defeated at the hands of Cyrus the Great, king of
Persia, in 539 b.c. In this context, the “first year of King Cyrus” does not
represent the year in which he became the king over the Persians and the
Medes, but the year in which his kingship was extended to include
Babylon in 539 b.c. Thus, Daniel was still serving the Babylonian Empire
when it fell to the Persians in 539 b.c. In fact, Daniel was even living at the
time of the 3rd year of Cyrus in 536 b.c. [later in Daniel 10:1]. Thus,
Daniel’s life spanned the entire period of the neo–Babylonian empire, in
which he had just gained an official government position. His life span
also included the early years of the Persian control of Babylon. However,
by that time his age was so advanced that he probably died sometime in
the 530s b.c. So, Daniel not only received an appointment to official
capacity in the king’s personal service, but he also outlasted the
Babylonian Empire by God’s grace! As the rest of the book will reveal,
there were many trials, temptations, plots, and intrigues during these many
years, but God saw him through each one. Thus, Daniel outlived his
Babylonian masters, which means he served in the Babylonian courts for
~60 years and lived to see the Persian King Cyrus issue the decree
permitting the Jews to return to the land [Ezra 1:1–3]. Daniel lived to see
God’s faithfulness with Israel begin to be worked out!
In summary, Daniel 1 opened with the startling news that God’s holy
people and holy Temple had been invaded, in what [at first glance] might
appear to be a defeat for him! Nations of that time had their gods, and God
was allowing his ability to serve as Israel’s protector to come into
question. Furthermore, the changing of the names of his representatives
marked them as no longer the property of God, but rather of the
Babylonian deities. In what might at first seem to be disheartening, the
events show that God was all the more superior to the pagan deities! In
fact, recent scholarship has provided a very insightful approach from
cognitive linguistics to help us conceive the concept of a deity’s sacred–
space, which is to show how God reversed what at first seemed to be his
defeat, actually into his victory within Marduk’s own camp, which
ironically began when the Jews started eating a non–Marduk diet!

In other words, a so–called spatial–hermeneutical frameset is applied, and
within this cognitive frameset, the ancient worldview of Daniel 1 can be
divided broadly into the natural world within which humans live, and the
supernatural world of the gods, which in turn could be divided into the
heavens above [from where the gods rule over the world] and the
underworld [as the world of the dead, but which also falls under the
heavenly rule of the gods]. Nevertheless, we can distinguish two spaces:
human–space and sacred–space. If we use the cognitive concept of body as
an embodiment of space, we can describe it as a distinction between a
heavenly body and an earthly body. This implies that the heavenly body is
the vessel or space within which the gods usually live, and the earthly
body designates the vessel or space in which humans live:
Thus, interaction between these two spaces is possible through a
relationship that we can describe cognitively as spaces within human
space, or sacred–space within earthly space. These spaces could manifest
from something as simple as a tree, river, or mountain to a complex entity
like a constructed building or city, or even the king’s environment.
53
These sacred–spaces were viewed as extensions of the gods, or as
heavenly space. The interaction that created these spaces, demonstrated
that the earth falls under the authority of the gods. So, in the ancient Near
East, each nation had its own deity or pantheon of gods, and it was
believed that a god’s authority and power on earth was confined to the
national boundaries of the people who worshiped that specific deity. Thus,
each pantheon of gods or deity established its own region of authority on
earth. This ancient religious worldview not only formed part of the culture
of ancient Israel, but it is also reflected in Deuteronomy 32:8–9, where the
peoples of the earth were each given their own territory according to the
number of the gods. Thus, each god possessed its own people. Thus, Israel
was seen as the holy or sacred property of God [Exodus 19:5–6], and Zion
was accepted as the holy throne of God [Psalm 48], with Jerusalem as his
holy city. The Temple in Jerusalem represents the cosmological balance
that was created by God when he created the universe. Thus, the Temple
was built to represent the heavenly dwelling of God that he founded over
the ordered chaos as a symbol of his victory over the forces of chaos
[Psalm 29]. Thus, the Temple was considered a symbol of God’s reign
over both heaven and earth, and also formed the boundaries of the deity’s
sacred heavenly space on earth. Likewise the Davidic king is also
described as an earthly extension of God’s rule, because not only is the
Davidic king described as sitting at the right hand of God [Psalm 110], but
he is depicted as the son of God [Psalm 2; 45:8; 89:28]. Thus, the land of
Israel was seen as the Holy Land and the territory beyond its borders was
designated as the outside or profane world. Thus, as the protector of
Jerusalem, God was seen as a powerful warrior who was impervious to the
attacks of any opposing army, and Zion was seen as unconquerable.
Jerusalem and Zion were experienced as the axis mundi between heaven
and earth, or as an environment for humans to live and interact with God.
So, in applying the cognitive frameset of spatial hermeneutics to the text of
Daniel 1, it is important to highlight a few aspects of the narrative:
1. In vv. 1–2, Nebuchadnezzar [the Babylonian king], captures
Jerusalem, and then takes Joachim [the Judean king], to Babylon as
his prisoner. At the same time Nebuchadnezzar plunders God’s
Temple, and carries off many of the Temple’s objects and exhibits
these items in the temple of the Babylonian god Marduk.

2. In vv. 3–7, the young men from the Davidic royal family are taken
into the palace of Nebuchadnezzar to be educated as true
Babylonians. Daniel and his friends are given Babylonian names.
3. In vv. 8–10, Daniel and his friends refuse to eat the king’s food.
4. In vv. 11–17, a period of 10 days is set aside for Daniel and his
friends to prove that their diet of vegetables is healthier than a diet
of food taken from the king’s table. At the end of the 10–day test,
Daniel and his friends are not only healthier than the other young
men, they are also shown to be more intelligent.
5. In vv. 18–21, at the end of their education, the young men are
brought before Nebuchadnezzar to be tested. Again, Daniel and his
friends are not only found to be more astute and far wiser than the
rest of the young men, but they also outshine Nebuchadnezzar’s
personal counsellors.
So, Daniel 1 can be summarised as the story of four young Judean men
from the Davidic royal house who struggle to maintain their Judean
identity and faith within a profane and non–Israelite environment.
Nevertheless, God provides a positive outcome in answer to their efforts to
stay faithful to their Judean identity. But, reading the text from within the
cognitive frameset of space, there actually is much more to the narrative of
Daniel 1 than merely the story of four young men trying to uphold their
Judean culture within a hostile foreign environment. Remember, people of
the ancient world believed that each deity had its personal region or
territory over which it exerted its power and authority. In this way, the
gods were bound to certain places, territories, or cities. When nations
waged war, each of them called upon their gods to protect them. If a nation
lost a battle, it was believed that its gods were not strong enough to protect
it. Thus, it was accepted that these gods and their territories of authority
were subject to the authority of the victorious gods. For example, in Psalm
137, the Israelite exiles are mocked by their Babylonian captors and asked
to sing songs of Zion [of the throne of God]. However, the Israelites
refused to sing their songs of worship in the land of foreign gods. Likewise
according to Isaiah 36, the king of Assyria warns Hezekiah not to trust in
God, for he could neither protect his city of Samaria nor could any other
54
god protect their people against the king of Assyria and his god. Thus,
keeping this in mind, Daniel 1 could be summarised as follows: God’s
authority is challenged by an invasion of his sacred–space. The challengers
are the Babylonian gods that were ruled and headed by Marduk [v. 2]. So,
in Daniel 1, God’s sacred–space is marked by:
1. The holy city of Jerusalem.
2. King Joachim and the royal families.
3. The Temple.
4. The land of Judea.
5. The character of Daniel.
Thus, by mentioning the royal families and Daniel’s connection to them
[vv. 3, 6], Daniel describes himself as becoming the embodiment of God’s
rule/space [as in the case of the Judean king]. This is because the breach of
God’s sacred–space is marked by Marduk’s king [Nebuchadnezzar] who
invades Jerusalem and plunders God’s Temple. Thus, God’s humiliation
and inability to protect his jurisdiction is emphasised strongly in the
narrative. This is done by depicting the scenario in which God’s king and
royal families, as well as his Temple objects are taken to Marduk’s base of
strength [Babylonian city and temple]. So, in Babylon, Marduk’s
supremacy over God’s people is accentuated. This dominance is denoted
by the representation in which Daniel and his friends are to be stripped of
their culture and identity as God’s people by furnishing them with
Babylonian names and providing them with a Babylonian education, and
with their new names, Daniel and his friends are cognitively inscribed or
reproclaimed as vessels of the Babylonian gods! It means that the four
Judeans are no longer the property of God, but the property of the
Babylonian gods! Nevertheless, Daniel 1 takes an interesting turn. God is
not as powerless within Marduk’s territory as the people of ancient times
may have expected. Marduk is suddenly challenged by God from within
Marduk’s own city! The challenge comes through a cognitive approach via
a clash of foods, where Daniel and his friends refuse to eat the food
coming from Nebuchadnezzar’s table. Within a cognitive linguistic
frameset, eating vegetables is a way for Daniel and his friends to set
themselves apart as vessels through which God can act inside Marduk’s
sacred–space! A perfect analogy of this can be derived from the 2015 film
Avengers: Age of Ultron [where Jarvis = Yahweh and Ultron = Marduk].

Tony Stark says: “Ultron didn’t go after Jarvis because he was angry. He
attacked him because he was scared of what he can do. So Jarvis went
underground. Okay, scattered, dumped his memory, but not his protocols.
He didn’t even know he was in there, until I pieced him together.”
Bruce Banner retorts with scepticism: “And you just assume that Jarvis’
operational matrix can beat Ultron’s?” But, Tony Stark responds with the
fact that: “Jarvis has been beating him from inside without knowing it.”
So, by narrating the fact that Daniel and his friends prefer a different diet,
Daniel establishes a base of operation for God within Marduk’s sacred–
space [just as Jarvis did within Ultron’s protocols]. Thus, in the absence of
his Davidic king [not present in the palace of Nebuchadnezzar], God
utilized other members of the royal family to set up his own sacred–space
55
in Marduk’s territory. Despite their new names, Daniel and his friends
refuse to act as vessels of the Babylonian gods, but continue to act as the
property of God, and with God’s help, Daniel manages to convince
Ashpenaz [chief of the king’s court officials] to assess the young men over
a period of 10 days. So, will Marduk prevail as supreme ruler of his own
territory? The answer is that, at the end of the 10–day food trial, which
could otherwise be described as a clash of foods, the question of Marduk’s
supremacy is answered. The young men who had eaten from
Nebuchadnezzar’s table are not the healthiest or the most intelligent.
Instead, it was Daniel and his friends, who received their meals apart from
the others. Thus, God is presented as the victor of the battle of the banquet.
God’s capability to undermine Marduk’s authority on his own turf is
emphasised when Ashpenaz decides to provide water and vegetables to all
the young men, and not only to Daniel and his friends [vv. 15–16].
However, this battle of the banquet is only a preparation for a much
tougher trial. At the end of their education, the young men still have to be
tested by Nebuchadnezzar himself [vv. 18–20]. Daniel narrates God’s
capability to operate within Marduk’s sacred–space, seeing that God
equips Daniel and his friends with Godly wisdom and insight [v. 17].
Thus, God again is victorious, seeing that [as vessels of God] Daniel and
his friends are found to be wiser and more intelligent, not only than all the
other young men; they are also proven to be wiser and even more astute
than Nebuchadnezzar’s own counsellors of Marduk! Thus, at the end of
Daniel 1, it becomes clear: what started off as an invasion of God’s
sacred–space actually became a clever strategy to invade Marduk’s own
territory, and when all of God’s earthly property was carried off to
Babylon [which was supposed to be a symbol of humiliation and
subjection of God and his entourage to the rule of Marduk], at the end of
the narrative in Daniel 1, the transfer of God’s property to Babylon
ironically turns into a strategic invasion of Marduk’s own sacred–space.
So, by applying a spatial hermeneutical frameset to Daniel 1, the
implication becomes clear: God’s authority and rule is neither restricted to
earthly sacred–spaces, nor subjected to human structures, such as temples
and national borders. In narrating his story within a spatial frameset,
Daniel is demonstrating to his readers that God’s rule is supreme, seeing
that God can operate within the jurisdiction of other gods, because they are
unable to prevent him! In his own way, Daniel is answering any doubts
that people may have as to the authority of God.

The Babylonian gods are exposed: they are not stronger than God. If God
can operate in Marduk’s city, he can act everywhere else! Thus, the exiles
should not be afraid to sing God’s praises, even within a profane and
foreign world as it seems to them according to Psalm 137. To put it even
stronger, if God can operate within the profane world outside of his own
original territory of Israel, he can also protect his people within the profane
world. In light of this assurance, God’s chosen people do not have to fear
the profane world, neither other nations nor their gods who want to
challenge God’s rule on earth. The fact that Israel went into exile was not
because of God’s incapability to protect the Israelites. Rather, the exile
happened because of God’s own chosen actions towards his people. God
himself delivered his people into the hands of Nebuchadnezzar. They were
not defeated because Marduk was victorious over God. This fact Daniel
already emphasises at the beginning of his narration [v. 2]. God has not
forgotten his people and furthermore is not incapable of being present and
operating in Babylon, as some may have thought at that time [Isaiah
40:27]. Instead, on the contrary, God is omnipresent, seeing that his
sacred–space is universal. Thus, the lesson of Daniel 1 is that if God can
invade Marduk’s own turf and show himself superior there, he can
certainly protect his people because they will have to live out the days of
their exile in Marduk’s land.
Joseph J. de Bruyn [21st century ancient Near Eastern scholar] concludes:
“If a spatial hermeneutical frameset is applied to the narrative of Daniel 1,
it reveals a cognitive development in the religious thought of Israel. At
first Yahweh’s god–space was seen as limited to the tabernacle and the
Ark of the Covenant, and later the Temple. Still later, Mount Zion, the
Davidic king and Jerusalem became part of Yahweh’s god–space.
According to Daniel 1 the boundaries of Yahweh’s god–space becomes
universal. Yahweh operates where he chooses and anybody can be a vessel
or an embodiment of Yahweh’s action. In his own way the author attempts
to convince his readers that Yahweh’s authority is universal, and not
restricted to a particular spatial context. Overall it can be concluded that
applying some methodological features of cognitive linguistics to the texts
of the Hebrew Bible can be beneficial when an attempt is made to better
understand these texts. Indeed, this also emphasises the important role that
cognitive linguistics can fulfil in the process of exegesis.”
56
Summing Up …
Starting with vv. 1–7, God gives Jehoiakim, Judah, and these four
intelligent attractive Jewish men into Nebuchadnezzar’s hands.
Nebuchadnezzar’s hands have taken their homes, livelihoods, and names.
They have also provided food, drink, education, and opportunity. As the
book unfolds, it becomes apparent that these men are God’s gift to this
foreign king. The men accept this role, but their losses cannot be
minimized.
Next in vv. 8–20, there are several things about suffering and faithfulness:
1. Daniel proved loyal to God when sent away to Babylon.
2. Daniel’s self–discipline prepared him for future harder tests.
3. Daniel maintained his dignity, identity, and witness while
accepting his place in Nebuchadnezzar’s service. There were lines
of assimilation he would not cross.
4. The Judeans and the Babylonians alike learned that physical
beauty, good appearance, and health come from Israel’s God, not
from the king of Babylon.
5. God’s name was kept pure before a watching world, the reverse of
what Malachi 1:7–12 describes. This witness will continue.
6. God gave Daniel gifts of wisdom to carry him through difficulty.
Finally in v. 21, sadly Daniel never went home. But, he lives long enough
to know that his people will go home [later in Daniel 10:1]. As is true of
Moses, part of Daniel’s greatness is his willingness to serve God without
getting what he probably desires most. God gives him what he needs, and
more, but this verse reveals that the book’s plot includes Daniel spending a
lifetime in exile. Thus, his witness of God bestowing gifts in exile will
remain one of his book’s chief interests, and its most enduring legacy.

NEBUCHADNEZZAR’S DREAMS
Daniel 2
Opening Thought
1) Think about the subject of dreams for a few minutes by pondering these
questions: Do you find that you dream often? Are you able to remember
your dreams when you wake in the morning? What recurring dreams or
nightmares did you have when you were young? What recurring dreams
do you have now? Why do you think some people have frequent [and
strange] dreams while others do not seem to dream much?
Background of the Passage
Daniel 2 reveals trouble in the royal palace of Babylon. King
Nebuchadnezzar was having disturbing dreams that he could not
understand. Summoning his assorted counsellors, the king gave a
disturbing command: supply not only the meaning of the dreams, but also
their very content! Failure will result in death! The magicians, astrologers,
and sorcerers recognized the impossibility of this task, but Daniel
immediately turned to his sovereign all–knowing God in whom all things
are possible. After prayer the “mystery was revealed to Daniel in a vision
later that night” [v. 19], and Daniel revealed that God was giving
Nebuchadnezzar a blueprint for world history, of five successive empires:
1. Babylon.
2. Medo–Persia.
3. Greece.
4. Rome.
5. God’s kingdom.
Thus, on a theological level, Daniel 2 is a prophetic outline that can aid in
understanding God’s sovereign activity in both human history and the yet–
to–unfold events of the end times. On a personal and practical level, it is a
wonderful reminder of the power of prayer in a believer’s life.
Bible Passage
Read Daniel 2
57
King Nebuchadnezzar’s Dream
1
During the second year of Nebuchadnezzar’s reign, Nebuchadnezzar
had dreams that troubled him. As a result, he couldn’t sleep. 2So the king
gave orders to summon diviners, enchanters, sorcerers, and Chaldeans to
reveal to the king what he had dreamed. When they came and stood before
him, 3the king told them, “I have dreamed a dream and I will remain
troubled until I can understand it.” 4The Chaldeans responded to the king
in Aramaic: “May the king live forever. Tell the dream to your servants,
and we’ll reveal its meaning.” 5In reply the king told the Chaldeans, “Here
is what I have commanded: If you don’t tell me both the dream and its
meaning, you’ll be destroyed and your houses will be reduced to rubble.
6
But if you do relate the dream to me as well as its meaning, you’ll receive
gifts, rewards, and great honour from me. Therefore reveal the dream to
me, along with its meaning.” 7They replied again, “Let the king tell his
servants the dream, and we’ll disclose its meaning.” 8The king responded,
“I’m convinced that you’re stalling for time because you’re aware of what
I’ve commanded. 9So if you don’t disclose the dream to me, there will be
only one sentence for all of you. You have conspired together to present
lies and corrupt interpretations until the situation changes. Now tell me the
dream and I’ll know that you can reveal its true meaning.” 10The
Chaldeans answered the king directly, “There’s not a single man on earth
who can do what the king has commanded. No king, lord, or ruler has ever
asked such a thing from any diviner, enchanter, or Chaldean.
11
Furthermore, what the king is asking is so difficult that no one can reveal
it except the gods—and they don’t live with human beings.” 12At this
point, the king flew into a rage and issued an order to destroy all the
advisors of Babylon. 13When the order went out to kill the advisors, they
searched for Daniel and his friends to kill them, too.
Daniel Requests Time to Answer the King
14
Daniel responded with wisdom and discretion to Arioch, the king’s
executioner, who had gone out to execute the advisors of Babylon. 15He
asked him, “Why such a harsh decree from the king?” Then Arioch
informed Daniel, 16so Daniel went to ask Nebuchadnezzar for an
appointment to see him, and it was granted him so that he could reveal the
meaning to the king. 17Then Daniel went home and told his friends
Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah about the king’s command.

18
Daniel was seeking mercy, in order to ask about this mystery in the
presence of the God of heaven, so that Daniel and his friends might not be
executed along with the rest of the advisors of Babylon.
The King’s Dream is Revealed to Daniel
19
When the mystery was revealed to Daniel in a vision later that night,
Daniel blessed the God of heaven 20and said, “May the name of God be
blessed forever and ever; wisdom and power are his for evermore. 21It is
God who alters the times and seasons, and he removes kings and promotes
kings. He gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to the discerning. 22He
reveals what is profoundly mysterious and knows what is in the darkness;
with him dwells light. 23To you, God of my ancestors, I give thanks and
praise, because you have given me wisdom and power; you have now
revealed to me what we asked of you by making known to us what the
king commanded.” 24After this, Daniel went to Arioch, whom the king had
appointed to execute the advisors of Babylon. He told him, “Don’t destroy
the advisors of Babylon. Bring me before the king and I’ll explain the
meaning to him.” 25Then Arioch quickly brought Daniel into the king’s
presence and informed him: “I’ve found a man from the Judean captives
who will make known the meaning to the king.”
Daniel Reveals the Meaning of the Dream
26
King Nebuchadnezzar replied by saying to Daniel (whose
Babylonian name is Belteshazzar), “Are you able to tell me about the
dream and its meaning?” 27By way of answer, Daniel addressed the king:
“None of the advisors, enchanters, diviners, or astrologers can explain the
secret that the king has requested to be made known. 28But there is a God
in heaven who reveals secrets, and he is making known to King
Nebuchadnezzar what will happen in the latter days. “While you were in
bed, the dream and the visions that came to your head were as follows:
29
Your majesty, when you were in bed, thoughts came to your mind about
what would happen in the future, and the Revealer of Secrets has made
known to you what will take place. 30As for me, this secret was made
known to me, not because my own wisdom is greater than anyone else
alive, but in order that the meaning may be made known to the king, and
that you might understand the thoughts of your heart. 31“Your majesty,
while you were watching, you observed an enormous statue. This
magnificent statue stood before you with extraordinary brilliance.
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Its appearance was terrifying. 32That statue had a head made of pure
gold, with its chest and arms made of silver, its abdomen and thighs made
of bronze, 33its legs made of iron, and its feet made partly of iron and
partly of clay. 34“As you were watching, a rock was quarried—but not with
human hands—and it struck the iron and clay feet of the statue, breaking
them to pieces. 35Then the iron, the clay, the bronze, the silver, and the
gold were broken in pieces together and became like chaff from a summer
threshing floor that the breeze carries away without leaving a trace. Then
the rock that struck the statue grew into a huge mountain and filled the
entire earth. 36“This was the dream, and we’ll now relate its meaning to the
king. 37You, your majesty, king of kings—to whom the God of heaven has
given the kingdom, the power, the strength, and the glory, 38so that
wherever people, wild animals, or birds of the sky live, he has placed them
under your control, giving you dominion over them all—you’re that head
of gold. 39“After you, another kingdom will arise that is inferior to yours,
and then a third kingdom of bronze will arise to rule all the earth. 40Then
there will be a fourth kingdom, as strong as iron. Just as all things are
broken to pieces and shattered by iron, so it will shatter and crush
everything. 41“The feet and toes that you saw, made partly of potter’s clay
and partly of iron, represent a divided kingdom. It will still have the
strength of iron, in that you saw iron mixed with clay. 42Just as their toes
and feet are part iron and part clay, so will the kingdom be both strong and
brittle. 43Just as you saw iron mixed with clay, so they will mix themselves
with human offspring. Furthermore, they won’t remain together, just as
iron doesn’t mix with clay. 44“During the reigns of those kings, the God of
heaven will set up a kingdom that will never be destroyed, nor its
sovereignty left in the hands of another people. It will shatter and crush all
of these kingdoms, and it will stand forever. 45Now, just as you saw that
the stone was cut out of the mountain without human hands—and that it
crushed the iron, bronze, clay, silver, and gold to pieces—so also the great
God has revealed to the king what will take place after this. Your dream
will come true, and its meaning will prove trustworthy.”
Nebuchadnezzar Promotes Daniel and His Friends
46
Then King Nebuchadnezzar fell on his face before Daniel, paid
honour to him, and commanded that an offering and incense be presented
on his behalf. 47The king told Daniel, “Truly your God is the God of gods,
the Lord of kings, and the Revealer of Secrets, because you were able to

reveal this mystery.” 48Then the king promoted Daniel to a high position
and lavished many great gifts on him, including making him ruler over the
entire province of Babylon and chief administrator over the advisors of
Babylon. 49Moreover, Daniel requested that the king appoint Shadrach,
Meshach, and Abednego administrators over the province of Babylon,
while Daniel himself remained in the royal court.
Understanding the Text
2) Why were the king’s wise men unable to interpret the dream? (2:1–13)
First, an extensive preliminary overview of primeval history is required to
fully appreciate the context of this chapter, and there are also two Old
Testament texts that are relevant: one that is narrative [Genesis 41:1–32],
and the other that is prophetic [Isaiah 40–66]. Thus, Genesis 37–50
recounts the story of Joseph, who spent most of his life in Egypt through
God’s providence, where Joseph moved from slavery to a posh job with
Potiphar and then to prison. However, prison was not where Joseph stayed,
because during one night, Pharaoh had a series of bad dreams about fat and
skinny cows and ears of corn. So, when the king awoke, he summoned all
the magicians and wise men of Egypt to interpret the dreams for him. But,
Pharaoh’s experts were stymied. However, the king’s cupbearer had an
epiphany and remembered the prisoner Joseph who had interpreted his
own disturbing dreams ~2 years earlier. So, Joseph was summoned by
Pharaoh, but Joseph refuted the report that he was able to interpret dreams.
Nevertheless, he informed the king that God had revealed to him in his
dream what was about to happen in Egypt. God was going to send 7 years
of outrageous plenty and then 7 years of horrific famine. Joseph advised
Pharaoh to appoint a “wise, discerning person” to be in charge of Egypt
during the years of feast and famine [Genesis 41:33]. Pharaoh knew a
good thing when he saw it, and he immediately promoted Joseph to 2nd in
command of Egypt [Genesis 41:38]. Then, many years after the events of
Genesis 41, Isaiah offered comfort to the displaced people of God [Isaiah
40–66], reminding the people that their God is not like the gods of the
nations, which are made of silver and gold [Isaiah 40:19; 41:7; 44:12–13].
Such gods need to be carried about or nailed down so they do not topple
[Isaiah 40:20; 41:7; 47:1–7]. They cannot explain the past or reveal the
future [Isaiah 44:7], and the true God frustrates those who try to derive
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knowledge from such gods. Thus, Israel’s God alone is wise, the one who
controls both light and darkness. He knows and reveals hidden secrets
[Isaiah 42:16; 45:3; 48:6], the God of gods, and there is none other able to
bestow power and wisdom, to effect and interpret history, since all other
gods are helpless. Israel can find refuge in their God’s incomparability.
They can take comfort no matter their circumstances because the rulers of
this world [representatives of these inferior gods] will wither at God’s
breath and blow away like chaff [Isaiah 40:24], and other nations and
kings will bow before God’s servants [Isaiah 49:7, 23; 60:10–14]. So, in
light of this, there are three other texts that provide further context:
1. The History of Babylonia by Berossus [3rd century b.c. Babylonian
priest], who derived traditional Sumerian and Akkadian myths
about the gods and the history of mankind. He tells the tale of
Oannes, a merman–like monster that came ashore in prehistoric
Babylonia, also known as Adapa [or “Wise One”], and was the 1st
out of seven such creatures to come ashore. However, Adapa is
identified by scholars as either Utuabzu or Enmeduranki, the 7th
among the apkallu, who “ascended to heaven” [like Enoch in
Genesis 5]. So, since these seven apkallu had been created by the
god Ea [also known as Enki, the god of intelligence], he then sent
these demigods as his envoys of knowledge to primitive humans.
Berossus credits the demigod Oannes with teaching people
everything they needed to know to become civilized. He gave mere
mortals the gift of knowledge in writing, science, architecture, law,
mathematics, and agriculture; knowledge that had been the sole
prerogative of the gods until Ea shared it with humans. In fact, this
becomes important in later 2nd Temple tradition, because the
apkallu are the equivalent of the “Watchers” in 1 Enoch, who were
the “sons of God” [parents of the Nephilim], and the ones who
brought the arts of civilization to humanity. Thus, 1 Enoch has the
Watchers in the same role as both the Mesopotamian apkallu and
the “sons of God” in Genesis 6:1–4. Furthermore, Psalm 82 adds
one more piece to this puzzle, where God addresses the divine
council and reprimands them for their failure to maintain justice. In
v. 6 these “gods” are referred to as “sons of the Most High,” who
will nevertheless die as mortals [bringing to mind Genesis 6:3].
This could feasibly be understood as related to the primordial,

antediluvian era introduced in Genesis 6:1–4. Thus, this four–way
connection between Genesis 6; Psalm 82, the Mesopotamian
apkallu, and the 2nd Temple Watchers invites us to use these
diverse sources together as mutually informing. Such an
interpretation would co–identify the sons of God, the apkallu, and
the Watchers as the same group! This group intermarries with
human women [true of all three groups; since post–flood ummianu
are two–thirds apkallu, indicating that the latter mated with human
women], and although it is intended to extend order, but instead it
initiates an era of corruption and injustice perpetrated by them and
their offspring. Thus, the apkallu can be seen as connected to the
gods because they are considered those who direct the plans of
heaven and earth [a divine task]. In other words, they are agents of
order whose influence eventually brought disorder. So, how is this
relevant for Daniel in Babylon? Since the major apkallu tradition is
antediluvian, after the flood there are four apkallu, and each one is
cited for an offense [angering a particular god with no detail
given]. However, the last one is indicted as the one who brought
Ishtar down from heaven into the sanctuary. The idea that the
stairways of the ziggurat were meant for the god to come down is
evidenced in the Mesopotamian myth “Nergal and Ereshkigal,”
where the messenger of the gods descends from heaven down to
the netherworld by means of a simmiltu [or “stairway”]. The
connection of this stairway to ziggurats is specified by the ziggurat
name at Sippar: “Sacred Place of the Pure Stairway to Heaven.”
Michael Heiser [21st century biblical scholar] summarizes and says:
“Recent scholarly work on Mesopotamian literature associated
with events before and after the great flood have produced clear,
unambiguous, point–for–point parallels to what we read in Genesis
6:1–4. Those parallels demonstrate with no uncertainty that this
biblical passage was specifically written to denigrate
Mesopotamian ideas of the superiority of their gods and culture.
In the Mesopotamian material, the divine beings who lived at the
time of the flood were called apkallu. They cohabited with human
women, producing a new generation of apkallu who were not only
divine–human hybrids, but also giants. Mesopotamian religion saw
these generations of apkallu as great sages. Their survival via
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human women before the annihilation of the flood preserved pre–
flood divine knowledge that had been taught to men. This
knowledge was preserved in Babylon, which explained (to the
Mesopotamian cultures) why their culture was superior to all
others. Rather than deny the supernatural context of the
Mesopotamian material, Genesis hits it head–on. The apkallu were
not saviours. They were undeserving rivals to Yahweh of Israel
and deserved to die. After the flood the giant apkallu became
enemies of God’s people, the Israelites. Whether we realize it or
not, Genesis 6:1–4 reports the first salvo in the long war against
Yahweh and his people. This strange passage that modern readers
keep at arm’s length has hooks into other biblical passages,
including the New Testament. This new research comes from a
thorough re–examination of the Sumerian and Akkadian flood
epics. The insights were skilfully culled by cuneiform scholar Amar
Annus in 2010. Annus’ article is the most current study on the
Mesopotamian apkallu available anywhere in any form. It
supersedes all preceding work on this subject. It deals a death
blow to any non–supernatural interpretation of Genesis 6:1–4.”
2. A text about Enmeduranki. In other words, Ea did not share all
knowledge with humanity, because knowledge of the future or
revelation of certain secrets remained with the gods, and was only
accessible to humans through a variety of divination techniques,
including reading animal entrails, deciphering astronomical
phenomenon, or interpreting dreams. So, an Akkadian text about an
antediluvian king reveals that the gods were also the source of
divination knowledge. In this text, the god Shamash, patron deity
of the city of Sippar, visited the antediluvian king Enmeduranki
along with the god Adad. Together, the gods taught the king the
crafts of oil and liver divination, in addition to how to hold a cedar
rod. Then Enmeduranki summoned men from Nippur, Sippar, and
Babylon [three important Mesopotamian cities] so he could teach
them what Shamash and Adad had taught him. While this text
obviously intended to claim superior divining knowledge for the
three cities, it also indicates that diviners believed their methods
and interpretations came from the gods. They had the serious task
of communicating knowledge from the unseen realm.

3. The Works and Days by Hesiod [8th century b.c. Greek poet], who
laid out history in five eras, and four of the eras were characterized
by different metals: gold, silver, bronze, and iron. The golden era
was like paradise, but each successive generation was less noble
and was characterized by increasing violence and general misery.
So, Hesiod’s 5th age [an age of Greek heroes], falls between the
bronze and iron ages, and is unrelated to any metals. Similarly,
Ovid [1st century b.c. Roman poet] structured history according to
four ages. He used the same four metals to indicate the decreasing
moral value of the successive ages.
Thus, these three texts provide background for the events of Daniel 2.
Starting with vv. 1–3, we read: “during the 2nd year of Nebuchadnezzar’s
reign, Nebuchadnezzar had dreams that troubled him. As a result, he
couldn’t sleep. So the king gave orders to summon diviners, enchanters,
sorcerers, and Chaldeans to reveal to the king what he had dreamed.
When they came and stood before him, the king told them, ‘I have dreamed
a dream and I will remain troubled until I can understand it.’”
Nebuchadnezzar’s 2nd year dates to 603/602 b.c. This is probably a
flashback during the time Daniel and his friends were still in their 3 years
of training [recall Daniel 1:5]. The plural “had dreams” may imply that he
dreamed the same dream repeatedly, or perhaps more likely “dreams” is a
plural of majesty or respect for the king’s one really important complex
nightmare, in which case it can be translated as “a single dream that had
many detailed parts and extended for a long time.” Notice that plural
“dreams” is used [v. 2], followed by singular “a dream” [v. 3], and this
singular is used in the rest of the chapter. It should be noted that in the
millennium between Joseph and Daniel, only a few other dreams are
recorded in the Old Testament. These include the dream that assured
Gideon of God’s victory over the Midianites [Judges 7:13–15], Solomon’s
dream of God that prompted the king to ask for wisdom [1 Kings 3:5–15],
and Balaam’s conversation with his donkey as a theophanic dream
[Numbers 22:20–36]. So, Daniel 2 opens with the announcement that
Nebuchadnezzar had a most unusual dream in the 2nd year of his reign.
Also, critical scholars have questioned the historicity of Daniel’s book
because of this statement.
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Daniel appears to have already completed his training from Daniel 1 and to
have been elevated to the status of a wise man of the realm. So, if the
training was to have been ~3 years [recall Daniel 1:5], how could this
dream take place in only the 2nd year of Nebuchadnezzar? However, this is
not a contradiction, because there are at least two possible explanations:
1. The events of Daniel 2 took place while Daniel was still in his
training program. The strength of this position is that it treats the
training program as fully lasting 3 years, rather than parts of years.
However, it would demand that Daniel was not with his three
friends when the king tested them [recall Daniel 1:18–19], since he
would have already been elevated as “ruler over the entire
province of Babylon and chief administrator over the advisors of
Babylon” [later in v. 48].
2. The events of Daniel 2 occurred after the training program. In this
case, Daniel 2 follows Daniel 1 chronologically, which is what we
would expect apart from evidence to the contrary. Also, it would be
extremely unlikely that Daniel would have been made “ruler over
the entire province of Babylon and chief administrator over the
advisors of Babylon” while still in the training program. So, this
tension of the “2nd year” can be resolved by assuming that
accession–year dating is involved and that a part of a year is
counted as a year. An accession year [according to Babylonian
reckoning] is that part of a year from the time a man first becomes
king until the following Nisan [March–April]. In fact, scholars
have confirmed the Babylonian practice of an accession year that
precedes Nisan.
David Noel Freedman [20th century biblical scholar] says:
“Nabopolassar died on August 16, 605. On receiving the news,
Nebuchadrezzar hurried back to Babylon to be crowned king on
Septemner 7, 605. From then until the following April is designated
his ‘accession–year.’ Then in April, 604, during the akitu or New
Year’s Festival, the official ‘first year’ of his reign began.”
Thus, the official regnal years were counted from Nisan to Nisan.

The following chart shows that it is possible to have completed the training
program before the end of the king’s 2nd official year:
Training King’s Reign Date
1st Year Accession September 605 to Nisan 604 b.c.
2nd Year 1st Year Nisan 604–603 b.c.
3rd Year 2nd Year Nisan 603–602 b.c.
Paul House [21st century biblical scholar] says: “The ‘2nd year’ has led to
discussions about the book’s historical accuracy. The Old Greek reads
‘12th year’, but few scholars accept this as the original reading. The main
issues is that Daniel 2:1 seems to contradict Daniel 1:5, which says that
Daniel’s training lasted 3 years. However, this can be reconciled if the
author is using the Babylonian accession–year method of dating. The
king’s 2nd year (603–602 b.c.) was a reasonable time for Nebuchadnezzar
to have dreams that troubled his spirit. He was under considerable
pressure. The kingdom his father left him was barely a decade old. He
had defeated the Egyptians at Carchemish and chased them and their
allies south just before his father died. He had taken the throne and
resumed battle into 604 b.c. After a brief respite, he had to subdue
Ashkelon later that year. Now he faced a western enemy that required
him to organize a more powerful force, and kept him from pressing
further south towards Egypt.”
Thus, if the dream was near the end of the 2nd official year, there was ~30
months for the training program, which would have met the criteria of ~3
years. So, among many of the Mesopotamian divination techniques was
the dream interpretation, because divination played a central role in
Babylonian religion. Incantations were used to drive away evil demons,
sickness, or bad luck. Amulets [an image of a god] were used to keep
demons away. A whole variety of divination techniques were used to
divine the future: liver omens, lecanomancy [oil in water], oneiromancy
[interpretation of dreams], astrology, libanomancy [smoke from incense],
psephomancy [casting lots], cledonomancy [chance remarks of strangers],
necromancy, and dagilissuri [movements of birds]. A work known as the
Assyrian Dream Book has survived in Neo–Babylonian script, suggesting
it was studied and used at the time of Nebuchadnezzar.
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Daniel himself may have studied it along with the rest of Babylonian
literature [recall Daniel 1:4]. Thus, kings brought divination priests to:
1. Report one’s dream to another person.
2. Interpret the meaning of an enigmatic dream.
3. To ward off via magic the ill effects that the dream portends.
In the 7th year of one of Nebuchadnezzar’s successors [Nabonidus], an
astrologer reported a dream about the great star [Jupiter], Venus, Siris, the
sun, and the moon. The dream was taken to foretell a favourable omen for
Nabonidus and his son Belshazzar. Nabonidus himself has a dream in
which he saw Nebuchadnezzar and an attendant standing on a chariot. The
attendant told Nebuchadnezzar, “Do speak to Nabonidus so that he can
report to you the dream he has seen.” Nebuchadnezzar then asked
Nabonidus, “Tell me what good signs you have seen,” followed by
Nabonidus, within his dream, describing a dream concerning the great star
and the moon, with Jupiter [Marduk] calling him by name. Thus, dreams
and visions were always considered meaningful or significant. So, a dream
by God made it all the more perplexing, intriguing, and troubling. Thus,
because of the unusual nature of the dream, the king could not sleep and
consequently summoned the wise men of Babylon to come to his aid,
where the Hebrew word mᵊḵaššᵊpîm [for “sorcerers”] refers to the
religious group from the Akkadian cognate verb kašapu [or “to bewitch,
cast an evil spell”]. Also, the kaššapu is the most common Akkadian term
for sorcerers, known for casting evil spells. It occurs more frequently in
the feminine form kaššaptu. They used herbs, charms, various potions, and
were in league with evil forces. In essence, they practiced witchcraft,
which was strongly forbidden in the Torah, because it opened one’s life to
demonic influence or possession [Exodus 7:11; 22:18; Deuteronomy
18:10; Isaiah 47:9, 12; Jeremiah 27:9]. Likewise, the Hebrew word kaśdîm
[for “Chaldeans”] is a cognate of the Akkadian kaldu, a region in southern
Babylonia/Mesopotamia, around Nippur, Ur, and Uruk bordering on Elam.
So, Chaldean is a term for a tribal ethnic group that appeared historically
in southern Babylonia in the mid–9th century b.c. We know of five
powerful early Chaldean tribes [Bit Yakini, Bit Dakkuri, Bit Ammukani,
Bit Shaalli, and Bit Shilani]. The Chaldeans were affiliated with [though
clearly distinct from] Aramean tribes. The names of Chaldean kings of
Babylon are in Akkadian, not Aramaic.

By the mid–700s b.c., Chaldeans were taking leadership roles politically
[King Merodoch–baladan of the Bit Yakini tribe]. Thus, here it has
become by synecdoche a term for diviners of Chaldean descent.
Donald Wiseman [20th century Assyriologist] says: “The tribal territory
covering the southern marshes and coastal plains of ancient Iraq
bordering the Persian Gulf was called by outsiders ‘Chaldean land’ (māt
Kaldu) after the name of the tribes inhabiting the area. This Assyrian–
Babylonian name was followed by the Greek, while the Hebrew, with the
common variant of ś for l, probably follows an old dialect form kašdu.”
Thus, they had numerous functions, one of which was astrology. However,
their interest in the celestial bodies was for the purpose of ascertaining the
outcome of future events. So, these various religious experts that made up
what was known as the ḥakkîmayyāʾ [or “wise men”] of Babylon. They
were not rulers per se, but important court officials who relied upon the
occult for information. One of their main purposes was to use this
information to advise the king, and their skills was the interpretation of
dreams, where records indicate that this had become a highly developed
discipline. This would explain why the king summoned these men
following his dream, because elaborate dream manuals were composed.
Joyce Baldwin [20th century biblical scholar] says: “Chaldeans here
denotes experts in magic lore, a non–Babylonian use of the term.
Herodotus (450 b.c.) used the word in this sense. The new slant to the
word is easily explained as arising after the intrusion of the new Persian
Empire and religion, when ‘Chaldean’ became a religious designation
just as ‘Jew’ became. These experts in dreams worked on the principle
that dreams and their sequel followed an empirical law which, given
sufficient data, could be established. The dream manuals, of which several
examples have come to light, consist accordingly of historical dreams and
the events that followed them, arranged systematically for easy reference.
Since these books had to try to cover every possible eventuality they
became inordinately long; only the expert could find his way through
them, and even he had to know the dream to begin with before he could
search for the nearest possible parallel. The unreasonable demands of the
king and the protests of the interpreters in v. 3–11 are in keeping with his
character and the known facts concerning dream books.”
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Eugene Carpenter [21st century biblical scholar] likewise says: “The dream
was so disturbing that it caused his sleep to leave him. There is evidence
that Nebuchadnezzar’s rulership was contested early in his reign and
several times thereafter. He had to constantly deal with the Medes and
entertained suspicions of their intentions. These concerns fit well with the
idea that the king could not sleep after his dream. The king, however,
wanted his group of Babylonian advisers to tell him the dream itself, and
not just to interpret the dream. The alternative translation suggested by
some—that his sleep returned to him—may therefore have some merit.
Perhaps he went back to sleep after awakening, highly agitated by the
dream, and forgot the dream itself. That is why he would demand his court
experts to tell him the dream as well as to interpret it, so that he might
understand it. This interpretation could also imply that he dreamed the
dream again, for in v. 2 he literally calls the experts together to declare to
him ‘his dreams’ (like Pharaoh’s two dreams; Genesis 41:1–7). However,
his motive for not relating the dream may be intentional (vv. 4–6) rather
than due to a lack of recall. There are instances of Assyrian kings testing
their dream experts to keep them from deceiving the king. According to
some texts, relating the dream itself could in some instances cause it to
lose its influence on the person who had the dream. In this instance, it
seems that if the king in fact remembered the dream, he was taking the
opportunity to test the accuracy of his court professionals. So, v. 2 leaves
the impressive coterie of pagan magicians, enchanters, sorcerers, and
astrologers standing in the presence of the king anticipating the king’s
instructions. God had earlier declared Nebuchadnezzar to be his servant
to judge not only Judah, but also Egypt and all the surrounding nations
(Jeremiah 25:9; 27:6; 43:10). In Daniel’s time, we see God putting
dreams into the mind of the greatest king on earth during the time of the
Exile and using his mind to declare a message of instruction and hope—
but also of judgment—to Daniel’s own people and the nations of the
world. Nebuchadnezzar could not resist the desire to grasp the
significance of this great dream, though he did not know its source. In the
ancient Near East, dreams and magic were weapons given to humans to
protect themselves from evil events, and kings were usually chosen to be
the dream conduits of the gods. So, Nebuchadnezzar wanted to recover the
dream and know its interpretation. His ultimate source for doing that was
to be the God who placed the dream in his mind in the first place, the one
who had made Nebuchadnezzar his servant to Israel and the nations.”

Next in vv. 4–6, we read: “the Chaldeans responded to the king in
Aramaic: ‘May the king live forever. Tell the dream to your servants, and
we’ll reveal its meaning.’ In reply the king told the Chaldeans, ‘Here is
what I have commanded: If you don’t tell me both the dream and its
meaning, you’ll be destroyed and your houses will be reduced to rubble.
But if you do relate the dream to me as well as its meaning, you’ll receive
gifts, rewards, and great honour from me. Therefore reveal the dream to
me, along with its meaning.’”
The record of their response indicates that it was “in Aramaic.” This refers
not to their immediate response, as though they actually addressed the king
in Aramaic, but is used as a signal to Daniel’s reader that the text is
switching to Aramaic [which will continue until Daniel 7:28]. Aramaic
had been used for several centuries prior to the Neo–Babylonian Empire
and was used by the Babylonians themselves. So, while it is possible that
the wise men addressed the king in Aramaic, it may simply mean this
portion of Daniel’s book preserved for us is in Aramaic, and instead they
actually spoke to the king in a Semitic Babylonian dialect. Thus, the
Chaldeans begin by asking to be told the dream. This was the standard
practice in Babylon: the dream is related and then an interpretation is
proclaimed. However, the king did the unexpected: he demanded that they
tell him both the dream and its interpretation! The Aramaic word ʾazdâ
[for “here is what I have commanded”] is a Persian loanword that means
“public knowledge,” but carries the implication that something has been
“decided” from the king. This is why out–dated translations [like the KJV]
have erroneously translated it as “the thing is gone from me,” because the
translator mistakenly thought that the verb was derived from the root ʾăzal
[or “to go away”]. Thus, the king knew they could invent an interpretation
if he were to tell them the dream, which suggests he was sceptical of them
from the outset. In other words, if they really had supernatural abilities,
then they ought to be able to also state the contents of the dream itself.
Failure to do so would result in being “destroyed.” In fact, the Aramaic
words haddāmîn tiṯ aḇḏûn [for “destroyed”] literally means “limbs you
will be made” [because the Aramaic haddām is a Persian loanword for
“limb”]. In fact, this whole expression comes from an Old Persian idiom
for mutilation followed by execution. Furthermore, their “houses will be
reduced to rubble.” On the other hand, if they could meet the king’s
request, they would be amply rewarded.
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They would receive “gifts” and “rewards” and would also be given “great
honour” [public recognition and fame]. Thus, this unreasonable test sought
to confirm whether these diviners had genuine insight into the mysteries.
Next in vv. 7–9, we read: “they replied again, ‘Let the king tell his
servants the dream, and we’ll disclose its meaning.’ The king responded,
‘I’m convinced that you’re stalling for time because you’re aware of what
I’ve commanded. So if you don’t disclose the dream to me, there will be
only one sentence for all of you. You have conspired together to present
lies and corrupt interpretations until the situation changes. Now tell me
the dream and I’ll know that you can reveal its true meaning.’”
Although they were flattered by the honours the king promised, they no
doubt were trembling and in utter fear at the fate that awaited them for
their failure. However, rather than challenging the king, they simply
requested that he tell them the dream. That did not profit them anything,
for the king saw right through their tactics, and accused them of “stalling
for time.” Perhaps they hoped that, given some time, he would calm down
and act more rationally. But, this made him angrier, announcing that there
was only one thing that was going to happen to them. In fact, there was
literally no alternative for them other than what the king had already
decreed would happen to them. Then he accused them of conspiring
together against him to lie, but Nebuchadnezzar held to his demand: they
must tell him the dream so that he could be confident they had the ability
to declare the right interpretation. So, what made the king so insistent to
act this rashly about a mere dream? Probably the dream itself had terrified
the king and left him fearful. Although he did not understand the details of
the dream, the very thought of a stone destroying a statue that he saw in his
dream [later in v. 35] may have been regarded by him as a kind of divine
omen that he would be assassinated or his kingdom overthrown. Hence, he
wanted to be absolutely certain of the interpretation. Thus, Daniel gives a
hint about the king’s nervousness. The phrase “until the situation changes”
means the time to change kings [later in v. 21], or a euphemistic way of
referring to the king’s demise and replacement by another monarch. So, he
accuses them of not wanting him to be their king, or of conspiring against
him, and believes that if they know the dream is negative towards him [or
they wish him off the throne], they might not give him their best advice.
So, he can only trust someone who can perform both tasks.

Wendy Widder [21st century biblical scholar] says: “The wise men had no
recourse for doing what the king asked. Dreams were always reported to
diviners. This was as much for the person who dreamed as for the one who
interpreted: the simple act of speaking the dream removed any negative
effects it may otherwise have had on the dreamer. The dumbfounded
experts of Nebuchadnezzar’s court probably weren’t exaggerating when
they protested that no king (no matter how big and mighty he was!) had
ever demanded such a thing of his wise men. That simply was not the way
things worked. Given time, the diviners could have requested from the
gods an oracle, in which the deity would hopefully reveal the contents of
the dream. But, the king was not even willing to give them time to ferret
out this information. The text is unclear about Nebuchadnezzar’s motives.
Has he forgotten the dream? Is he just testing his wise men? We may sit in
our 21st century easy chairs and cheer Nebuchadnezzar’s progressive
thinking: he had figured out that diviners were a bunch of charlatans.
Such a perspective reflects Western thinking, which prefers rational
explanations for activity that much of the world would assign to the spirit
world. But, in the ancient Near East, the diviners were the academic and
religious leaders of the day. As Berossus’ History of Babylonia relates,
Mesopotamians believed that the gods had gifted people with knowledge,
but they didn’t give them all knowledge. Divine knowledge remained
inaccessible, except through encoded messages that required the expertise
of diviners. If the account of Enmeduranki can be taken seriously,
Mesopotamians believed that diviners were only able to decode messages
because the gods gave them the interpretations. Undoubtedly there were
dishonest diviners in Babylon, but without the back story for the events in
Daniel 2, we have no way of knowing if Nebuchadnezzar’s wise men were
some of them. All we know is that the king didn’t trust them. But, frankly,
I’m not sure we should trust him. His impossible demand here and its
outrageous consequences suggest he either wanted an excuse to do away
with all of them or he was half out of his head. Whatever reasons there
may have been, I think the narrator intends to portray a maniacal king.”
Finally in vv. 10–13, we read: “the Chaldeans answered the king directly,
‘There’s not a single man on earth who can do what the king has
commanded. No king, lord, or ruler has ever asked such a thing from any
diviner, enchanter, or Chaldean. Furthermore, what the king is asking is
so difficult that no one can reveal it except the gods—and they don’t live
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with human beings.’ At this point, the king flew into a rage and issued an
order to destroy all the advisors of Babylon. When the order went out to
kill the advisors, they searched for Daniel and his friends to kill them too.”
They dared not ask again what the dream was, so now they attempted to
reason with the king by making three points:
1. They tried to point out the impossibility of what the king was
asking [no man on earth could do this].
2. They tried to point out that wise men have never been asked to do
such a thing, even by great kings and rulers.
3. The king’s request was “so difficult” that only the gods [such as
those worshiped by the Babylonians] could do this. But, gods do
not live with humans, so there is no way to know what they think.
Thus, notice that this last point is an amazing confession on the limitation
of their arts. The whole point to their magical arts, rituals, and astrology
was to learn the will of the gods and the outcome of earthly events. Now
they confess that their system does not work!
R. Glenn Wooden [21st century biblical scholar] says: “It was not, then, a
failure of other professionals to have mastered the correct body of
knowledge and skills; it was a failure of the very professions themselves to
be able to deliver what was expected.”
So, this sets the stage for Israel’s God to demonstrate omniscient
knowledge to man, and that he can do what they claim is impossible. Thus,
notice the limitations of human knowledge, even when aided by occultic
techniques. Humans are insufficient to understand the universe around
him, especially the unseen realm. No matter how advanced science
becomes, there will always be a limit to human knowledge, requiring
special revelation from God. But, there is a principle that governs what is
revealed to us: if we respond positively to the light that has been given to
us, more light will be given [Matthew 13:10–12, 16–17; Hebrews 5:12–
14]. So, if we do not respond positively to the light that God has given to
us, then we have no right to expect God to show us more spiritual truth.

Eugene Carpenter [21st century biblical scholar] says: “Nebuchadnezzar
made a demand that was impossible for human beings to fulfil. Since
dreams originate with the ‘gods’ and not humans, only a god could do
what Nebuchadnezzar was asking—or someone in touch with the gods,
for the gods do not live among men, but in a heavenly realm (v. 11). We
are not told why the wise men could not meet the king’s challenge, but
evidently they could not. Ancient Near Eastern kings did not always trust
their religious subjects. Their system and their gods failed. But, Daniel
had access to his God through prayer, and he would request supernatural
wisdom to interpret by direct revelation. He was seeking esoteric wisdom,
mantic wisdom. Of course, this scenario is exactly what the inspired writer
wished to convey in order to make it unequivocally clear that the man who
could meet the king’s demand would show himself to be delivering divine
wisdom. Daniel’s gifts and abilities to understand and interpret dreams
and visions (Daniel 1:17) did not expressly include the ability to recall the
dreams of others in order to interpret them. So, the situation demanded
more of Daniel than he was capable of doing, even though God had
endowed him with the ‘special ability’ to interpret dreams and with the
ability to learn and understand Akkadian and Aramaic. The dream had
to be recalled before it could be interpreted. Could the dream be merely
the production of a troubled king’s mind? That is, a production of an
especially oppressive set of political, social, military, or economic factors?
The false prophets of Jeremiah’s day produced lying dreams from their
own deceitful minds and hearts (Jeremiah 23:25–26; 27:9). The text will
dispose of this possibility: God is the one who creates the dream, and this
is what gives the dream its integrity. The interpretation of the dream is
vital, for only a sure interpretation of the dream after the dream itself was
recalled would be of any value for knowing the significance of the dream.
An inspired dream requires an inspired explanation. Thus, the source of
the interpretation must be God himself. A mere human answer would not
suffice. Whether the king knew the dream and was merely testing his wise
men or whether he had actually forgotten it is of little importance as the
story develops, but it does drive home the inability of the great wise men of
Babylon to meet this challenge. God will confirm through Daniel that the
dream was from him (v. 28), and God will give its meaning. The
astrologers (Chaldeans) had to have the king give them the dream before
they could interpret it, for they had no god who could reveal the dream
itself to them. The king’s offer of ‘many wonderful gifts and honours’
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assure the reader that had they been able to recount the dream to
Nebuchadnezzar, they would have done so. But, they could not; they failed
and this cast doubt upon their gods. Perhaps these gods, since they had
not generated the dream, really knew nothing about it. Even though they
did not give the dream, should they not have been able to discern it since
they were the highest gods? Chaldean astrologers were a feature of
Babylon’s social makeup, even in the time of Alexander the Great, when
they warned him to stay away from Babylon, where he eventually died.
Alexander, too, had been beset with dreams. Astrologers, magicians,
sorcerers, and enchanters in the ancient Near East had many manuals to
help them interpret dreams, but all these manuals assumed that the dream
was already known. They rightly, in that culture, accused the king of
dealing deceitfully with them (v. 10) by demanding such an unusual
performance from them. According to them, there was literally ‘not a man
upon the earth’ who could meet his unreasonable request. Only the ‘gods’
could break into the situation in order for the dilemma to be solved, but
they do not dwell among humans (according to their theology).”
Thus, when the wise men gave their final answer, it further incensed the
king, who smelled insubordination in their insinuation that he was being
unfair, so the king’s anger reached a boiling point and began to explode.
The Aramaic phrase bᵊnas ûqᵊṣap śaggîʾ [for “flew into a rage”] is a
hendiadys: “became furiously angry.” In fact, he did not even wait to see if
they could come up with the dream; he just ordered “all the advisors of
Babylon” to be slain. This included all the trainees who were to become
wise men, since Daniel and his friends were sought out for execution.
Nevertheless, his order to execute them telescopes a process that would
take time, by first arresting them, and then publicly executing them.
Jerome [4th century] concludes: “The magi confess, along with the
soothsayers—and all secular learning concurs—that foreknowledge of the
future lies not in human province but in God’s. By this test it is proved that
the prophets who proclaimed things to come spoke by the Spirit of God.”
3) What transpired after Daniel’s intercession and prayer? (2:14–23)
Starting with vv. 14–16, we read: “Daniel responded with wisdom and
discretion to Arioch, the king’s executioner, who had gone out to execute

the advisors of Babylon. He asked him, ‘Why such a harsh decree from the
king?’ Then Arioch informed Daniel, so Daniel went to ask
Nebuchadnezzar for an appointment to see him, and it was granted him so
that he could reveal the meaning to the king.”
Thus, Daniel and his three friends were caught up in a major crisis within
the kingdom. Although these four men were not practitioners of the occult,
they were nevertheless regarded as wise men of the court, and the king’s
decree also affected them. But, in contrast to the king’s violent explosion
of anger [recall v. 12], Daniel reacts with calmness and rational thinking.
This is a mark of a believer who understands God’s sovereignty. Thus,
Daniel did not try to lead a coup against the king or incite a rebellion,
knowing that the king was God’s appointed authority [1 Timothy 2:1–2;
Romans 13:1–2]. Instead, Daniel approached “Arioch” [the king’s
representative], an old Babylonian name [Genesis 14:1]. This means that
v. 14 is 1st person testimony by Daniel! It is derived from Hurrian Arriyuk,
appearing as Arriwuk in the Mari archives [18th century b.c.], and as
Ariukki in the Nuzi tablets [15th century b.c.].
John Collins [21st century 2nd Temple scholar] says: “Various etymologies
have been proposed: Sumerian eri–aku (servant of the moon god) is no
longer accepted. Delcor says it is ‘certainly Hurrian’ because a similar
name, A–ri–wu–uk, is attested at Mari. Recently it has been identified as
the Old Persian name Ariyauka, and this is plausible at least for Daniel.
An Iranian etymology was proposed by Hitzig, and Grelot argues that even
the name in Genesis may have a Persian derivation. Zadok accepts the
Persian etymology for the late texts, but not for Genesis.”
Also, scholars debate whether Arioch was either in charge of the king’s
bodyguard, or perhaps the executioners that had been ordered to carry out
the decree. In other words, he is termed as raḇ–ṭabbāḥayyāʾ [for “the
king’s executioner”], but ṭabbāḥ can mean either “executioner” or
“bodyguard” and it is difficult to know which nuance is correct in this
instance. The LXX has archimageirōi [or “chief cook”], but Josephus used
the word sōmatophulax [or “bodyguard”] in his summary [Ant. 10.10.3].
Nevertheless, “the king’s executioner” is a reasonable translation, and is
consistent with the LXX and Josephus, and as a raḇ [or “head”], he did not
perform the executions himself, but was in charge of those who did.
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Hippolytus [3rd century] says: “In effect, Arioch was the head cook, and as
the cook slays all animals and cooks them, so here he has a similar
occupation. For the rulers of the world slay people, butchering them like
brute beasts.”
Daniel did not try to defy Arioch or denounce the king. Instead, he spoke
with “wisdom and discretion,” by tactfully seeking to know why the action
was so urgent. This highlights Daniel’s great maturity, by respectfully
approaching Arioch to gain from him some cooperation, so that it was
possible for Daniel to get a message to the king. However, there is some
uncertainty if Daniel actually appeared before the king himself, because in
light of v. 25, that would seem surprising! Thus, some manuscripts [LXXθ
and Syriac] omit the words “went to” and say that Daniel sought the king.
Nevertheless, Daniel requested of the king time in order that he might
declare the interpretation of the king’s dream [probably their conversation
implied that he would also declare the dream, as the king demanded].
Unlike the other Chaldeans, Daniel’s request was not a stall tactic, as
though he was trying to bargain for time [recall v. 8]. The king must have
already had respect for Daniel as a man of integrity and great wisdom
[recall Daniel 1:19–20]. Thus, Daniel’s request for time was granted.
Next in vv. 17–18, we read: “then Daniel went home and told his friends
Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah about the king’s command. Daniel was
seeking mercy, in order to ask about this mystery in the presence of the
God of heaven, so that Daniel and his friends might not be executed along
with the rest of the advisors of Babylon.”
Here we see another wise action on the part of Daniel: he sought the
fellowship of other believers who could pray with him. The use of their
original Hebrew names reminds us of their godly heritage and
identification with Israel’s God. We now see them acting in a godly and
mature way, even though they were young men. But, Daniel did not
inform his friends of this news that they might feel sorry for themselves or
turn to complaining. He informed them for the purpose that they might
seek God’s compassion upon them. His motive was not to confront his
friends with bad news, but to lead them in the proper way to respond to a
crisis, by prayer. Daniel also recognized that it was not ultimately the
information itself that must be sought, but God’s compassion on them.

It would be the compassionate favour of God that would make possible the
revelation of the king’s dream. Although the king had found Daniel and
his friends “ten times superior” than the Babylonian wise men [recall
Daniel 1:20], not even that made them equal to the challenge now before
them. As they turned to God for compassion, they prayed to “the God of
heaven.” Although this expression had been used on rare occasions
[Genesis 24:7], it became a rather common way of referring to God during
the exile and the postexilic period [Ezra 1:2; 6:10; 7:12, 21; Nehemiah 1:5;
2:4; Psalm 136:26]. This expression may have seemed quite appropriate
for the Jews during this time when they were living among the Gentiles
and wanted to distinguish their God from the multitude of deities
worshiped by the Gentiles. For example, the title baal–šamēm [or “Baal of
heaven”], is attested in a 10th century b.c. Phoenician inscription in Byblos.
But, more relevant for Daniel is Ahura–Mazda, a celestial deity portrayed
as a sun–disk in the heavens, who was the highest deity of Zoroastrianism.
For example, here is the façade of the tomb of Darius I [522–486 b.c.] at
Naqš–i Rustam, depicting the king in cultic action and military violence.
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The king is in front of Ahura–Mazda, and a fire altar is prepared for a
cultic ritual that will showcase the ideal relationship that is between them.
The peoples of the Persian Empire joyfully support the occasion, and the
king’s bow and the foreigners beneath his feet show him as conqueror, and
the fire altar before which the king stands marks him as cultic officiator.
The inscription upon the relief indicates his military victory, as he is
described as conquering the nations: “If now thou shalt think that ‘How
many are the countries which King Darius held?’ look at the sculptures of
those who bear the throne, then shall it become known to thee: the spear of
a Persian man has gone forth far; then shall it become known to thee: a
Persian man has delivered battle far indeed from Persia.”
Thus, the use of “God of heaven” in Daniel’s book that was completed
during the Achaemenid period may reflect influence from Persian usage,
being a way of identifying Yahweh rather than Ahura–Mazda as the true
“God of heaven.” In fact, this title suggests that, although God is above
and beyond this world, he nevertheless looks down upon his people,
concerned and willing to answer their petitions! Thus, in contrast to the
Babylonian wise men who worshiped the starry heaven and sought to
determine the future by supernatural knowledge through astrological
means, Daniel’s God was the creator of the heavens and the one holding
all the stars and celestial bodies in place. The specific compassion from
God that they sought concerned the rāz [or “mystery”], which is a Persian
loanword meaning “secret,” and is related conceptually to the Hebrew
word sôḏ, which also designates the secret decisions of God in his divine
council, who is able to reveal to his prophets the decisions that are made
there [Amos 3:7; Jeremiah 23:18, 22]. Thus, what had been shown to
Nebuchadnezzar was a secret known only to “the God of heaven,” and no
occultic gimmick could discover what this was. Nevertheless, God could
choose to reveal it, and by knowing this, Daniel and his friends were
prompted to pray, and curiously this is a fact that Ezekiel himself
confirmed about Daniel [Ezekiel 28:3].
Gregory the Great [6th century Pope] says: “What a skilful workman the
Spirit is! There is no question of delay in learning. It no sooner touches
the mind in regard to anything it chooses than it teaches; its very touch is
teaching. It changes a human mind in a moment to enlighten it; suddenly
what it was no longer is, suddenly it is what it was not.”

Theodoret [5th century Bishop of Cyr] concludes: “Truly, much that is true
is found in the midst of the lies. Those who seek God are the friends of
truth, while those who depend on human reason alone are wicked and in
all they say and do attempt to seduce people. But, the friends of truth
adhere to nothing apart from that which comes from on high. They call
on the One who rules over all, taking heed to depend on prayer, standing
steadfast, not distressed, not at this moment or in this place, but standing
against the onslaught of human reason, and through the testimony of
blessed Daniel, we see the beloved youth given straightaway the revelation
concerning the dream, not because of his calculations, but simply because
it was proper time to hand over to the one who prays. He alone was of
great courage, but at the same time his companions jointly took up the
prayer. For none had abandoned the hope.”
Finally in vv. 19–23, we read: “when the mystery was revealed to Daniel
in a vision later that night, Daniel blessed the God of heaven and said,
‘May the name of God be blessed forever and ever; wisdom and power are
his for evermore. It is God who alters the times and seasons, and he
removes kings and promotes kings. He gives wisdom to the wise and
knowledge to the discerning. He reveals what is profoundly mysterious
and knows what is in the darkness; with him dwells light. To you, God of
my ancestors, I give thanks and praise, because you have given me wisdom
and power; you have now revealed to me what we asked of you by making
known to us what the king commanded.’”
Daniel did not have the ability in himself to figure out what the king had
seen, much less to interpret it. Only by a revelation from God “in a vision
later that night” could Daniel know this. The natural human tendency
would be to immediately run to Arioch exclaiming that he now had the
answer. But, since Daniel first took time to thank and worship God speaks
volumes of his character. His prayer was uttered in the presence of the
other three, because the use of the plural pronouns in v. 23 indicates that
he was not alone. Even if Daniel was not with the others when the night
vision came, he nevertheless gathered them all together, because although
praise for God can be a private affair, it is especially appropriate when
uttered in the presence of others [Psalm 22:22–25]. In fact, Daniel’s prayer
resembles the hymns of thanksgiving that are found in the psalms.
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W. Sibley Towner [21st century biblical scholar] says: “Not only is the
situation of the speaker one in which thanksgiving is appropriate; not only
does the word ‘thanks’ appear in the prayer; but also it exhibits many of
the usual formal features of a thanksgiving psalm: the call to praise and
extol, the account of the distress from which relief has been obtained, the
description of the deliverance obtained, and formulae of praise.”
Such analyses have often been extended to include the study of other
poems/benedictions [later in Daniel 4:1–3; 4:34–35; 6:25–27], though
these passages lack the element of thanksgiving found in v. 23. So, critical
scholars tend to see these as later assertions made by a final redactor
attempting to weave together narrative and poetic material [with various
stereotyped liturgical phrases] with the aim of emphasizing theologically
the eternality of God’s kingdom. Thus, the prayers serve to support
important thematic notions contained in the narratives.
W. Sibley Towner [21st century biblical scholar] continues: “These three
liturgically formulated passages bear closest resemblance to the hymn
Gattung of Israelite religious poetry. In all three poems there is stress on
the world rule of God, praise of him as creator and all–wise, and the
hymnic celebration of his eternality. In all four cases, the prayers focus the
point of the narratives roughly as follows: God’s decision to allow evil its
hour of ascendancy will be vindicated before the eyes of all the nations
when good ultimately triumphs; this vindication will come about because
of God’s own transcendent power and endurance; to this fact the evil
powers of the world will themselves be obliged at last to testify.”
However, there is no need to hold to a redactionary perspective of the
composition of Daniel’s book to appreciate the role that Daniel’s prayer
and the other benedictions play in regard to the narrative development.
Thus, the focus of Daniel’s praise was for God’s “wisdom and power.”
Notice how the prayer is carefully structured around these concepts:
A Praise for God who possesses wisdom and power [v. 20].
B God’s power: he controls human thrones [v. 21].
B′ God’s wisdom: he reveals hidden knowledge [v. 22].
A′ Praise for God who dispenses wisdom and power [v. 23].

So, this “wisdom and power” will be seen in regard to the dream and its
revelation about the future kingdoms [later in vv. 31–45]. Thus, God is in
complete control over the events of history. Furthermore, v. 21 indicates
that “it is God who alters the times and seasons, and he removes kings and
promotes kings.” The words iddānayyāʾ [for “times”] and zimnayyāʾ [for
“seasons”] are near synonyms. They look at the appointed times of history
[when events will occur], as well as the periods or epochs of history [the
stages and duration of things]. In fact, both aspects are illustrated by
Jeremiah and the 70 years of captivity God decreed for Judah [Jeremiah
25:11–12], and because God controls the times and eras, he intervenes
especially in the establishing and deposing of earthly kings. This was often
seen in Israel’s earlier history [from 1 Samuel to 2 Kings], though other
civilizations had similar beliefs. Also, on the Cyrus Cylinder, we find the
claim that Marduk deposed Nabonidus and instead raised Cyrus as king in
his place. But, the reality is that God alone has the power to do this. So,
God’s wisdom is seen in his infinite knowledge and understanding of
everything, and by his ability to reveal this to people of his choosing. This
is why “with him dwells light” reflects God’s omniscience, his complete
awareness of all that exists, and of all that can happen and will happen.
God knows the end from the beginning. What would otherwise remain
unknowable and hidden [in the darkness], God has seen fit to reveal to
Daniel, as Job says: “He uncovers the hidden dimensions from darkness,
bringing what is in deep shadow to light” [Job 12:22]. So, Daniel’s prayer
serves primarily for the characterization of God, for he is the source of
wisdom and power over both sage and king. However, the prayer
characterizes Daniel himself.
James Washington Watts [21st century biblical scholar] says: “The short
psalm in the narrative of Daniel 2 shows the influence of the blessing
formulas that proliferated in later books of the Hebrew Bible and is closely
connected with other poetic prayers in the book. The psalm nevertheless
contains points of continuity with the older literary tradition of placing
psalms in narrative contexts. Daniel’s psalm of praise achieves its
narrative role by its position in the plot of Daniel 2, its semantic and
thematic links with the proximate and extended contexts, and its
characterization of Daniel and God. Daniel gives praise when his request
has been answered, though the readers are still in the dark as to the
dream’s nature and significance. Thus, the psalm is placed in the middle of
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the action before resolution of the tension has occurred, but at a point
where resolution is expected. The poem’s position is similar to that of
other psalms in narrative contexts which relate thanksgiving for healing or
deliverance at points in the narrative where that outcome has been
indicated, but not yet fulfilled (Isaiah 38; Jonah 2). Because of its
location, Daniel’s praise becomes, like these other thanksgivings, an
expression of trust that the expected deliverance will be brought to
fruition. Daniel’s praise is the first of four poems with similar themes
distributed through Daniel 1–6. The others appear in the mouths of
Nebuchadnezzar and Darius at Daniel 4:3, 4:34–35 and 6:26–27. Unlike
Daniel 2:20–23, they lack the element of thanksgiving, but otherwise they
parallel the psalm in emphasizing God’s power, eternality and control
over nature and history. All four passages point to God as the source of
Daniel’s miraculous powers. Towner noted that the poems serve a crucial
role in the narrative’s ‘universalist theodicy’ pattern which aims ‘to
denigrate the power of evil to prevail and to testify in a dramatic and
convincing way of the superiority of Israel’s Creator–Redeemer over any
king or people on earth.’ Daniel’s praise is devoted to characterizing God
directly, but by appearing in Daniel’s mouth, it indirectly characterizes
him as well. His first reaction to the revelatory vision is praise and
thanksgiving, expressed with complete trust that a positive outcome to his
dangerous situation will now be forthcoming. Thus, Daniel is cast as a
model of piety, which matches the narrative’s depiction of him through his
prayer (v. 19), witness (vv. 27–28), and self–effacement (v. 30), and in
which he is also characterized as a model Israelite sage (v. 14). The psalm
matches and reinforces the context’s depiction of Daniel in ideal terms.
The psalm’s thematic links with the surrounding prose has shown that
characterization of God is central to its narrative role. Niditch and Doran
observed that because of the psalm, ‘the role of the hero, the wise man, is
almost superseded by a more important protagonist, God.’ The prose
narrator does not describe God in Daniel 2. Divine characterization is left
for the speeches of Daniel and Nebuchadnezzar, among which the psalm
contains the first and most extensive depiction. We are forced to depend
upon human revelation to learn anything of divine revelation. We must
trust Daniel’s song of thanksgiving for information concerning God’s
participation in the story. God is the source of wisdom and power in the
psalm, and has control over sage and king, as both Daniel and
Nebuchadnezzar admit in the subsequent account. The psalm’s narrative

role finds its chief expression in God’s characterization in terms of power
and wisdom, which announces the point towards which the story and book
are driving. This role is established by close semantic and thematic links
with the prose narrative of Daniel 2, with the three other poems in Daniel
1–6, and even with the vision of the 4th beast in Daniel 7. The psalm also
reinforces the narrative’s ideal characterization of Daniel through its
pious contents and especially by its position. Daniel’s praise allows
Israel’s ideal sage to show his faith by announcing the theme which even
Babylonian and Persian kings will eventually proclaim. The
compositional history of the book of Daniel has been the subject of intense
debate, and a wide variety of methods have been used to explain the
presence of Daniel’s praise in vv. 20–23. This psalm has always had
many defenders of its originality in this context. Rowley defended the
unity of the entire book, although he did not address the psalm specifically.
Steck, on the other hand, assumed a three stage development of the book,
but considered the psalm to be a theological summary of the message of
the first stage, the original Daniel stories. Towner in particular has
argued that the psalm and the other poems in Daniel 1–6 were composed
from stereotyped liturgical phrases for this narrative context and were
designed by the author ‘to function as theological epitomes of the
significance of that experience of the speaker which is recounted in the
narrative context.’ The psalm’s presence in 4QDana is proof that it was
an integral part of the text by the mid–2nd century BCE. The nature of the
psalm’s (and thus the book’s) emphasis is theocentric—God is the source
of power and wisdom. Through the psalm, the author made certain that the
story pointed first and foremost to God’s actions and control over events,
even though God does not appear as a character in the narrative.
Forewarned by the psalm, the reader expects the words and behaviour of
characters such as Daniel and Nebuchadnezzar to illuminate not only
these characters but also divine action behind the scenes, an expectation
which is amply fulfilled. Thus, the story is no longer, if it ever was, about
a clever official in the Babylonian court. Its subject is God’s rule over
both exiled Jews and foreign emperors, and their dependence upon God
for knowledge of their fates. Although the primary motivation for using a
psalm in this context seems to have been to give the story a theocentric
thrust, psalmody was probably also chosen to make explicit the narrative’s
implicit characterization of Daniel as a model of piety. The court adviser,
Daniel, illustrates that piety is the source of wisdom. His composition of
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an appropriate hymn out of traditional liturgical material shows that the
skills of the sage can contribute much to expressions of religious praise.
Goldingay remarked that the psalm in Daniel 2 reverses the usually
psalmic progression from specific divine acts of grace to general
characteristics and worship for the sake of dramatic effect, thus giving
‘prominence to the particular experience of God’s power and wisdom
that Daniel himself has been given.’”
Thus, the statement “he gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to the
discerning” is full of irony. The so–called wise men of Babylon had
nothing to offer the king, whereas Daniel, who sought God’s wisdom, was
made truly wise. Such is the case for those of us today who know the true
source of wisdom; a wisdom not of this world [1 Corinthians 1:18–25].
In summary, the true character of a person is revealed in a time of crisis.
Notice carefully the admirable qualities that we see in Daniel:
1. He had the grace to guard his speech and refrain from making any
unwise and inappropriate comments [vv. 14–15].
2. He demonstrated great boldness and faith [v. 16]. He had the
boldness to seek an audience with the king and the faith to believe
that God would do the impossible.
3. He faced the crisis by seeking fellowship and prayer with other
believers [vv. 17–18].
4. Once God revealed the dream to him, he took time to thank and
worship God rather than immediately head off to take care of
business [vv. 19–23].
This picture of Daniel is not given that we might merely admire and
applaud him. Rather, this is meant for our own edification, that we might
desire to be like him. Daniel is not some Olympic champion whose feats
are unattainable. He is an example of what God can do with any person
who yields his life to him and seeks after him. Remember, God is not
limited in what he can do with any one of us. It is only our unbelief and
hardness of heart that limits God!

Joyce Baldwin [20th century biblical scholar] says: “Daniel’s question is
concerned with the hastiness rather than the severity of the decree: why
has his majesty issued such a peremptory decree? He asks for time and
promises he will give the interpretation. The ability to keep calm under
severe shock and pressure, to think quickly and exercise faith in a
moment of crisis, these are aspects of prudence and discretion seen in
Daniel here (Philippians 4:7).”
Wendy Widder [21st century biblical scholar] concludes: “Granted his
request, Daniel recruited his three friends to plead with the God of heaven
for mercy (v. 18). The ‘God of heaven,’ a common title in post–exilic books
(1 Chronicles, Ezra, Nehemiah), occurs four times (vv. 18, 19, 37, 44). Its
significance here is that it reminds us of the wise men’s claim that gods do
not dwell among people (v. 11), by which they at least meant their gods
were inaccessible. But, Daniel’s God was about to prove that, although
his dwelling was nowhere near Babylon, he was not inaccessible. The
God of heaven revealed things to people on earth. With little ado in the
narrative, God answered the Judeans’ prayer (v. 19). This event brings to
mind the showdown between Elijah and the prophets of Baal at Mount
Carmel (1 Kings 18), when after a day–long display of ineptitude by the
prophets of a false god, Elijah prayed and God answered, immediately.
True power, the narrative of 1 Kings makes clear, comes from God and
God alone. Daniel 2 makes clear that true wisdom also comes from God
and God alone. It is just that simple. Daniel responded in praise, exalting
God as the source of wisdom and power. His wisdom is evident in the deep
and dark things he knows, and his power is apparent in his changing of
times and seasons and his raising up and taking down of rulers. But,
Daniel did not just praise God for the wisdom and power he possesses;
Daniel exalted God because he shares his wisdom and power with mere
people. He reveals hidden things to the wise and discerning. Wisdom here
is not the empirical, rational wisdom of Proverbs. Instead it is
supernatural insight that is only received by direct revelation. He bestows
power on kings, and he takes it away. Daniel’s words anticipate his
disclosure of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream and its interpretation in vv. 31–45.
That he knows the dream at all will testify that the God of heaven—not
the Babylonian gods—is the true source of wisdom, and the dream’s
meaning will proclaim that his God is also the true source of power, the
only one who raises up and takes down human kings. Daniel also
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thanked God for giving him wisdom and power (v. 23). His gift of wisdom
is obvious—God just revealed the mystery to Daniel. But, how did God
share with the lowly exile the kind of power about which Daniel has just
sung? Once again, the doxology anticipates his exchange with
Nebuchadnezzar. When Daniel interprets the dream for the king, he is
promoted to a high position in the kingdom (v. 48). God may not raise up
Daniel to be a king, but he does bestow on him significant political
power. Daniel’s magnificent doxology summarizes the primary message of
chapter 2: God alone has wisdom and power, and both are his to give and
take. In fact, Daniel’s words capture the most important message of the
entire book, a message that began in Daniel 1:2 when God delivered
Jehoiakim into the hand of Nebuchadnezzar. Throughout the book, God
will raise up kings and he will take them down. He will confound the
‘wise’ and give wisdom and discernment to his faithful servants. He will
share his wisdom, power, dominion, and even glory with humans, and he
will call them to account for what they do with it. But, his kingdom alone is
eternal, and to him alone belong power, dominion, and glory. While all
God’s people are saying ‘Amen,’ they should also be sighing with relief
that Daniel’s doxology also meant that his life would be spared. He had
the answer for the king. Given the urgency of the situation so far, we
might expect Daniel to rush to the rescue of the sleepless king, the
condemned wise men, and quite possibly all of Babylon.”
4) What happened when Daniel came to Nebuchadnezzar? (2:24–30)
Starting with v. 24, we read: “after this, Daniel went to Arioch, whom the
king had appointed to execute the advisors of Babylon. He told him, ‘Don’t
destroy the advisors of Babylon. Bring me before the king and I’ll explain
the meaning to him.’”
So, Arioch had been given the unpleasant duty of having to slay the wise
men of Babylon, and it must have been something of a relief for Arioch
when Daniel came to him with the good news that he could interpret the
king’s dream. However, note carefully that Daniel’s first words were not a
boast of being able to tell the dream, but a concern for the pagan wise men
whose lives were in danger: “don’t destroy the advisors of Babylon.” We
do not know how well Daniel personally knew these men or what
relationship he might have had to them.

Daniel’s likely disdain for their occultic practices and refusal to engage in
their arts might have aroused their contempt for him, and certainly their
suspicions. Nevertheless, Daniel had compassion on these men who were
lost and did not know Israel’s God. Their welfare was of more concern to
him than his own personal success and reward.
Next in vv. 25–26, we read: “then Arioch quickly brought Daniel into the
king’s presence and informed him: ‘I’ve found a man from the Judean
captives who will make known the meaning to the king.’ King
Nebuchadnezzar replied by saying to Daniel (whose Babylonian name is
Belteshazzar), ‘Are you able to tell me about the dream and its meaning?’”
So, although Daniel was the real hero in this crucial hour, Arioch took
advantage of the situation to promote himself before the king: “I’ve found
a man.” Critical scholars argue that this contradicts v. 16, where Daniel
had previously appeared to the king. However, v. 25 is not insinuating that
Nebuchadnezzar did not know Daniel. Instead, the emphasis here is about
Arioch’s vainglory. Thus, with these words, Arioch attempted to gain the
credit for himself, as though the king should be indebted to him. He
wanted to enhance his standing through Daniel’s success and perhaps even
to get some of the reward the king had spoken about [recall v. 6]. Arioch
was a glory grabber, a person out to promote himself, especially taking the
credit that rightfully belonged to others. As Christians, we must always be
careful not to let pride control us. Our desire should be fixed on seeing that
the glory goes to God, for whatever God does through us is by his grace,
and not just for our own credit [1 Corinthians 15:9–11]. So, in v. 26, we
see Daniel standing before Nebuchadnezzar with the king putting the
crucial question to him: “Are you able to tell me about the dream and its
meaning?” Notice that the text, at this point, reintroduces Daniel with the
words “whose Babylonian name is Belteshazzar” [from the Aramaic
bēlṭᵊšaʾṣṣar]. Scholars are uncertain about the meaning of bēlṭᵊšaʾṣṣar,
although the prefix bēl suggests that the name is meant to honour the god
Bel [or Marduk], and one possibility is that the name means [or suggests]
“May Bel protect his life.” So, since we had already been told this in
Daniel 1:7, what need was there for this repetition? The answer is that, to
the original readers, it would have been an additional reminder that the
famous Jewish ruler in the courts of Babylon, whom they knew as
Belteshazzar, was Daniel himself [later in Daniel 4:8, 18–19; 5:12; 10:1].
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John Collins [21st century 2nd Temple scholar] further explains: “The
etymology is Akkadian: balaṭ–su–uṣur, ‘protect his life,’ or balaṭ–šar–
uṣur, ‘protect the life of the prince.’ That the Masoretic Text vocalizes so
as to introduce the name of the god Bel and that the allusion is required by
Daniel 4:8 suggests that the meaning of the name was lost early.”
So, the mention of the name Belteshazzar is important because it sets the
stage for what is about to happen as Daniel honours and glorifies Israel’s
God, not Bel/Marduk. The king and all other Babylonians may call him by
the name “Belteshazzar,” but his real identity is with Yahweh, who was
about to manifest his power before the king, since the name “Daniel”
means “God is my judge.”
Next in vv. 27–28, we read: “by way of answer, Daniel addressed the
king: ‘None of the advisors, enchanters, diviners, or astrologers can
explain the secret that the king has requested to be made known. But there
is a God in heaven who reveals secrets, and he is making known to King
Nebuchadnezzar what will happen in the latter days. While you were in
bed, the dream and the visions that came to your head were as follows.”
The king was anxious to know if Daniel could indeed tell the dream and its
interpretation, but Daniel delayed this matter. He knew in this crucial
moment that he had the king’s attention, and so he used the golden
opportunity to bear witness for God. Notice that his witness had two
aspects, one negative and the other positive. He first denies the ability of
the Babylonian wise men to accomplish the king’s demand, and then he
affirms that his God is able to do this. There were several occult
practitioners among the wise men of Babylon. The Aramaic ʾāšᵊpîn [for
“astrologers”] is rendered in the LXX as magōn [or the plural magos],
from which we get the term magi. In the context of Daniel, they were
occult practitioners who used religious and magical arts, including
astrology. Simon Magus was one such [Acts 8]. There are four possible
source countries for the magi, but it is difficult to know which is correct:
1. Arabia.
2. Babylon.
3. Persia.
4. Egypt.

Nevertheless, the Persians were known for divination and astrology.
Futhermore, the magi of Matthew 2:1 may have come from the regions of
Babylonia, and later legends that there were three [from the three gifts]
and that they were kings, cannot be verified, for Matthew is silent.
However, from history, they were probably priestly, and from the value of
the gifts, they were wealthy, possibly Babylonian court astrologers.
Nevertheless, for the birth of Jesus, they were well acquainted with Jewish
messianic expectations, and all four areas had significant Jewish
populations that went back many centuries. Although they were unfamiliar
with Micah 5:2, they astrologically followed the natural surmise that a
king would be born in Israel, specifically on the 11th of September in 3 b.c.
[Revelation 12:1–2], and so they travelled to Jerusalem. Thus, now Daniel
adds a new category, namely the gāzᵊrîn [for “diviners”], from the
Aramaic verb gᵊzar [or “to cut, determine”], and appears here in Daniel for
the first time. It may be somewhat limiting to translate this as
“astrologers” [though astrology could be included in their functions], but
“determiners of fate” may better capture the idea, which would refer to
those who used various forms of divination [including astrology] to
determine the outcome of an event or what awaited a person. So,
regardless of their specialty for discerning one’s fate or interpreting
dreams, they were powerless to do anything. Over a century earlier, Isaiah
had announced the downfall of Babylon and the inability of her occult
specialists to do anything to help her: “Come down and sit in the dust,
Virgin Daughter of Babylon. Sit on the ground without a chair, Daughter
of the Chaldeans! For no longer will they call you tender and attractive.
Take millstones and grind flour. Remove your veil, strip off your robes,
bare your legs, and wade through the rivers. Your nakedness will be
exposed, and your disgrace will also be seen. I’ll take vengeance, and I
will spare no mortal. Our Redeemer—the LORD of the Heavenly Armies is
his name—is the Holy One of Israel. Sit silent, and enter into the darkness,
you daughter of the Chaldeans; for no more will they call you Queen of
Kingdoms. I was angry with my people, and I desecrated my heritage, and
gave them into your control. You showed them no mercy; even on the aged
you laid your yoke most heavily. You said, ‘I will always continue—Queen
forever!’ You didn’t take these things into your thinking, nor did you think
about their consequences. Now hear this, you wanton creature, lounging
with no cares, and saying to herself: ‘I am the one, and there will be none
besides me; I won’t live as a widow, nor will I see the loss of children.’
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Both of these things will overtake you suddenly on a single day: loss of
children and widowhood. They will come upon you in full measure, despite
the multitude of your incantations and the great power of your spells. You
trusted in your own knowledge. You said, ‘No one sees me.’ Your wisdom
and knowledge have misled you. You said in your heart, ‘I am the one, and
there will be none besides me.’ But disaster will come upon you, and you
will not know how to charm it away. A calamity will befall you that you
will not be able to ward off; and devastation will come upon you suddenly,
and you won’t anticipate it. But stand up now with your spells and your
many incantations, at which you have laboured from your childhood
until today, according to your multiple schemes. Let them stand up
now—those who conjure the heavens and gaze at the stars, predicting at
the new moons—and save you from what is about to happen to them.
See, they are just like stubble; fire burns them up. They could not even
save themselves from the power of the flame. There will be no coals for
warming oneself, no fire to sit by. So will they be to you—those with whom
you toiled and did business since your childhood—they wander about,
each in his own direction; there is not one who can save you.” [Isaiah 47]
Thus, in v. 27, Daniel was denouncing the polytheistic religion of
Babylon. Sometimes before the truth can be seen, false beliefs must first
be exposed and discredited. Then in v. 28, Daniel boldly announced the
God who was able to help the king, calling him the “God in heaven.” Part
of the reason the king had this dream was for God to make known to him
“what will happen in the latter days.” This phrase deserves careful
attention. The Aramaic text is bᵊʾaḥărîṯ yômayyāʾ, which is exactly
equivalent in meaning to the Hebrew phrase bᵊʾaḥărîṯ hayyāmîm that
occurs 13 times elsewhere [Genesis 49:1; Numbers 24:14; Deuteronomy
4:30; 31:29; Isaiah 2:2; Jeremiah 23:20; 30:24; 48:47; 49:39; Ezekiel
38:16; Hosea 3:5; Micah 4:1; Daniel 10:14]. Although the phrase can
sometimes be used to refer to an indefinite time in the future
[Deuteronomy 31:29], it primarily refers to the far distant future. In other
words, the noun ʾaḥărîṯ means “after–part” or “end” which means the
phrase literally means “in the end of days.” Thus, this was a phrase
denoting the final period of history as far as the prophet’s perspective
reaches. In fact, it could also mean the messianic future, as demonstrated
in the Dead Sea Scrolls, where the phrase was used with reference to the
messianic age [1QSa 1:1; 4 QpIsaa 7.3.22; CD 66:11; 4QFlor 1:2, 12].

So, a study of the phrase in the Old Testament shows that it typically refers
to events still to come. Nevertheless, this phrase should not be confused
with what is said in Hebrews 1:2 [that God has spoken to us now “in these
last days” even though the Greek is the same as the LXX for v. 28],
because the emphasis of Hebrews is upon the contrast of the old covenant
[which expired with the death of Jesus] and the inauguration of the new
covenant [the old covenant cultic regulations, sacrifices, and priesthood
are no longer appropriate]. Thus, the contexts of Hebrews 1:2 with v. 28
are quite different [since Hebrews primarily has this shift of covenants in
view], and notice that Hebrews also views God’s future kingdom as
something that is still to arrive [Hebrews 2:5; 12:25–29]. Thus, Isaiah
says: “it will come about in the last days that the mountain that is the
Lord’s Temple will be established as the highest of mountains, and will be
raised above the hills; all the nations will stream to it. Many groups of
people will come, commenting, ‘Come! Let’s go up to the Temple of the
God of Jacob, that they may teach us his ways. Then let’s walk in his
paths.’ Instruction will proceed from Zion, and the word of the Lord from
Jerusalem. He will judge between the nations, and will render verdicts for
the benefit of many. They will beat their swords into ploughshares, and
their spears into pruning hooks; nations will not raise swords against
nations, and they will not learn warfare anymore.” [Isaiah 2:2–4]
This describes the time of Jerusalem’s restoration in the messianic
kingdom, which cannot be said to describe the present age! Many other
Old Testament passages also describe the time when Israel as a nation will
repent and be regathered to the land to enjoy messianic blessing
[Deuteronomy 4:30; Jeremiah 23:5–8, 20; 30:9–10, 24; Hosea 3:5], the
time when Gog will invade the land of Israel [Ezekiel 38:16], or the time
of the tribulation, antichrist, and resurrection of the saints [later in Daniel
10–12]. Thus, not everything about the king’s dream will pertain to the
“latter days,” for the events of the dream begin with Nebuchadnezzar and
stretch to the ending of Gentile powers and setting up of a kingdom by
Israel’s God [later in vv. 31–45]. However, the climactic part of the king’s
dream is the latter part of this spectrum [God’s kingdom], and Daniel tells
him that God has made known what will happen “in the latter days.”
Finally in vv. 29–30, we read: “your majesty, when you were in bed,
thoughts came to your mind about what would happen in the future, and
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the Revealer of Secrets has made known to you what will take place. As for
me, this secret was made known to me, not because my own wisdom is
greater than anyone else alive, but in order that the meaning may be made
known to the king, that you might understand the thoughts of your heart.”
So, before informing the king of the specifics of the dream, Daniel tells
him, “thoughts came to your mind about what would happen in the future.”
The words “in the future” refer to the broad sketch of history from
Nebuchadnezzar’s time until the inauguration of the messianic age. Also
notice that Daniel calls God “the Revealer of Secrets” [recall v. 18].
Nebuchadnezzar should meditate upon that virtue of Daniel’s God, for it
marks him out as unique in contrast to all the powerless Babylonian
deities. Nebuchadnezzar’s first need was to consider God as superior to the
Babylonian deities [later in v. 47]. However, here in v. 30, Daniel clarifies
that the disclosure of the dream and its interpretation [already clear in
Daniel’s mind] was not due to any special wisdom found in him. Thus, in
contrast to Nebuchadnezzar in his anger, Daniel was a man who could
react calmly in a crisis; in contrast to self–exalting Arioch, Daniel was a
man whose first desire was to give God all the credit and glory!
Wendy Widder [21st century biblical scholar] summarizes the details:
“Daniel vindicated his colleagues: no human could have done what the
king demanded (v. 27). But, fortunately for the king (and his wise men),
‘there is a God in heaven who reveals mysteries’ (v. 28). Daniel
announced that this God had revealed such a mystery, albeit in code, to
Nebuchadnezzar: God made known to the king what was going to happen
in the future. Daniel finally sounds ready to spill the beans: ‘Your dream
and the visions that passed through your mind as you were lying in bed are
these.’ Perhaps the king leaned forward. But, instead of telling the dream,
Daniel circled back around to talk about the ‘revealer of mysteries’ who
showed the king ‘what is going to happen’ (v. 29). Then he made sure the
king knew where his information came from and why (v. 30). In this Daniel
sounds like Joseph, who refuted the hearsay from Pharaoh that he could
interpret dreams: ‘I cannot do it, but God will give Pharaoh the answer he
desires’ (Gen 41:16). One might hope Nebuchadnezzar had gotten the
point by this time. While his dream was important—after all, the revealer
of mysteries gave it to him—it was not as important as recognizing the
supremacy of the God of heaven. One might hope we get the point, too.”

Chrysostom [4th century Bishop of Constantinople] says: “For nothing is
so advantageous and so likely to pacify the hearers as to say nothing about
one’s self of an honourable nature, but on the contrary, to forestall all
suspicion of wishing to do so. And, in truth, much more did the apostles
increase their glory by despising glory and showing that what had just
taken place was not a human act but a divine work; and that it was their
part to join with the beholders in admiration rather than to receive it from
them. In the same manner also did the ancient fathers, for instance,
Daniel, say, ‘Not because of any wisdom I have more than all the living
has this mystery been revealed to me.’ And again Joseph, ‘Do not
interpretations belong to God?’ [Genesis 40:8]”
Gregory the Great [6th century Pope] also says: “‘To you, O king, as you
lay in bed came thoughts of what would be hereafter, and he who reveals
mysteries made known to you what is to be.’ And a little later, ‘You, O
king, saw, and behold, a great image.’ Daniel, therefore, in reverently
indicating that the dream was to be fulfilled and in telling from what
thoughts it arose, shows clearly that dreams often rise from our thoughts
and from revelation. Seeing, then, that dreams may arise from such a
variety of causes, one ought to be very reluctant to put one’s faith in them,
since it is hard to tell from what source they come. If the mind is not on
its guard against these, it will be entangled in countless vanities by the
master of deceit, who is clever enough to foretell many things that are
true in order finally to capture the soul by but one falsehood. This
happened recently to one of our people who believed strongly in dreams.
In one of them he was promised a long life. After collecting a large sum of
money to last him for many years, he died suddenly, leaving all of his
wealth behind untouched, without having so much as a single good work
to take with him.”
Hippolytus [3rd century] likewise says: “For the king, on making himself
master of the land of Egypt, and taking hold of Judea and carrying off the
people, thought on his bed what should come after these things. He who
knows the secrets of all and searches the thoughts of the hearts revealed to
him by means of the image the things that were to be. However, he hid
from the king the vision, in order that the counsels of God might not be
interpreted by the wise men of Babylon, but that by the blessed Daniel, as
a prophet of God, things kept secret from all might be made manifest.”
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Augustine [4th century Bishop of Hippo] beautifully concludes: “The one
who interprets what another has seen is more a prophet than the one who
had seen. Less a prophet is he who sees in spirit only the signs of the
things signified, and a greater prophet is he who is granted only an
understanding of images. But, the greatest prophet is he who is endowed
with both gifts, namely, that of seeing in spirit the symbolic likeness of
corporeal objects and that of understanding them with the vital power of
the mind. Such a one was Daniel. His pre–eminence was tested and
established when he not only told the dream he had, but also explained the
meaning of it. For the corporeal images themselves were produced in his
spirit, and an understanding of them was revealed in his mind. I am using
the word spirit, therefore, in the sense in which Paul uses it, where he
distinguishes it from the mind: ‘I will pray with the spirit, but I will pray
with the mind also’ [1 Corinthians 14:15]. Here he implies that signs of
things are formed in the spirit and that an understanding of the signs
shines forth in the mind.”
5) What did Daniel say about the dream and its interpretation? (2:31–45)
Starting with v. 31, we read: “your majesty, while you were watching, you
observed an enormous statue. This magnificent statue stood before you
with extraordinary brilliance. Its appearance was terrifying.”
In his dream, the king had seen a large statue, where the Aramaic ṣᵊlēm
[for “statue”] is equivalent to the Hebrew ṣelem [or “idol”]. Thus, in this
context, God would not have presented this as an idol to be worshiped!
Furthermore, the image had a bright lustre due to its metallic composition.
Choon–Leong Seow [21st century ancient Near Eastern scholar] says:
“According to Daniel, the king’s dream is of an enormous ‘statue,’ a word
used for images erected to represent the presence of gods and kings.
Because the statue in Nebuchadnezzar’s dream symbolizes royal power, a
royal statue is likely meant. Such images were erected primarily for
propagandistic reasons, the power and majesty of the king being conveyed
by their typically intimidating size and splendour. Sometimes they were set
up in conquered territories as reminders of the might of the victorious
kings and their gods. Moreover, some were composed of different types of
materials, mostly different metals in combination with alabaster or stone.”

Thus, its appearance caused the king to be alarmed due to its immense size
and unusual composition of varying materials, because this statue is
related to various royal statues that were utilized in ancient Mesopotamia.
Eusebius [3rd century Bishop of Caesarea] concludes: “It was fitting that
the king, who prized the substances deemed precious among people, gold,
and silver, and brass and iron, should identify these substances as the
kingdoms that held sovereignty at different times in the life of humankind;
but that the prophet should describe these same kingdoms under the
likeness of beasts, in accordance with the manner of their rule. The king,
who was puffed up, so it appears, in his own conceit, and prided himself
on the power of his ancestors, is shown the vicissitude to which affairs are
subject and the end destined for all the kingdoms of the earth. This is done
in order to teach him humility and understand that there is nothing
lasting among people, but only that which is appointed the end of all
things—the kingdom of God.”
Next in vv. 32–33, we read: “that statue
had a head made of pure gold, with its
chest and arms made of silver, its
abdomen and thighs made of bronze, its
legs made of iron, and its feet made
partly of iron and partly of clay.”
Daniel’s description of the statue begins
with the head and then proceeds
downward until it reaches the feet. The
head is of fine gold, whereas the feet are
a mixture of iron and clay. In between are
the chest and arms of silver, the belly and
thighs of bronze, and the legs of iron. The
Aramaic nᵊḥāš [for “bronze”] can also
mean copper. Outdated translations like
the KJV mistakenly translated nᵊḥāš as
“brass” because it is not attested that
early in history, whereas bronze [an alloy
of copper and tin] was commonly used in
Daniel’s day and earlier.
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For example, Herodotus described the lavish use of bronze in Babylonia,
including the bronze–gated temple of Bel [Hist. 1:181]. Thus, there are
several things that should be observed here:
1. The metals composing the statue are put in order of decreasing
value [starting with gold and continuing to the iron/clay mixture].
2. The materials are listed in order of increasing hardness [gold is the
most pliable, whereas iron is the strongest]. These qualities will
reflect something about the kingdoms they represent.
3. The 5th and final material is unique in regard to the others. It is not
a pure metal, but rather a composite of metal and clay [which do
not easily blend or adhere to one another]. Also, it shares the same
metal as the 4th part, namely iron [suggesting a close connection
between what is symbolized by the “legs” and the “feet”].
4. The last stage is made of hard iron and brittle/fragile baked clay.
Ernest Lucas [21st century biblical scholar] says: “The appearance of
colossal figures, often the statue of a deity, is fairly common in dream
reports from the ancient Near East. Pharaoh Merenptah saw a giant
statue of the god Ptah, who gave him permission to fight the Libyans. The
Sumerian ruler Gudea saw a huge figure in a dream. In one reported in
the reign of the Assyrian emperor Ashurbanipal, an inscription on the
pedestal of a statue of the god Sin foretold the failure of a rebellion.
Apparently it was not only rulers who had such dreams. One of the motifs
listed in the Babylonian ‘dream book’ is the appearance of a god’s statue.
What Nebuchadnezzar sees in his dream differs from these in that the
figure represents the course of history. No major statues of gods from 1st
millennium b.c. Mesopotamia have yet been discovered, but a number of
divine images from the 2nd millennium b.c. have been recovered, and some
are made of a combination of materials. One example from Ras Shamra
is a bronze figure of a god, the head of which was covered with gold and
the body with silver. Another is made from five materials: electrum, gold,
silver, bronze, and steatite. King Esarhaddon of Assyria boasts of a statue
of himself made of gold, silver, and copper that was placed before the gods
‘to constantly request well–being’ for him.”

Now compare this with Hesiod’s imagery for the five ages of humanity:
1. A 1st generation golden race.
2. A 2nd generation of silver.
3. A 3rd generation sprung of ash wood.
4. A 4th generation of god–like heroes.
5. A 5th generation called a race of iron.
It should be noted that Hesiod’s imagery predates Daniel in 603/602 b.c.,
but there is no evidence that Hesiod’s writing influenced Daniel’s imagery:
“First of all the deathless gods who dwell on Olympus made a golden race
of mortal men who lived in the time of Cronos when he was reigning in
heaven. And they lived like gods without sorrow of heart, remote and free
from toil and grief: miserable age rested not on them; but with legs and
arms never failing they made merry with feasting beyond the reach of all
evils. When they died, it was as though they were overcome with sleep, and
they had all good things; for the fruitful earth unforced bare them fruit
abundantly and without stint. They dwelt in ease and peace upon their
lands with many good things, rich in flocks and loved by the blessed gods.
But, after the earth had covered this generation—they are called pure
spirits dwelling on the earth, and are kindly, delivering from harm, and
guardians of mortal men; for they roam everywhere over the earth, clothed
in mist and keep watch on judgements and cruel deeds, givers of wealth;
for this royal right also they received; then they who dwell on Olympus
made a second generation which was of silver and less noble by far. It was
like the golden race neither in body nor in spirit. A child was brought up at
his good mother’s side a hundred years, an utter simpleton, playing
childishly in his own home. But, when they were full grown and were come
to the full measure of their prime, they lived only a little time and that in
sorrow because of their foolishness, for they could not keep from sinning
and from wronging one another, nor would they serve the immortals, nor
sacrifice on the holy altars of the blessed ones as it is right for men to do
wherever they dwell. Then Zeus the son of Cronos was angry and put them
away, because they would not give honour to the blessed gods who live on
Olympus. But, when earth had covered this generation also—they are
called blessed spirits of the underworld by men, and, though they are of
second order, yet honour attends them also—Zeus the Father made a third
generation of mortal men, a brazen race, sprung from ash–trees; and it
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was in no way equal to the silver age, but was terrible and strong. They
loved the lamentable works of Ares and deeds of violence; they ate no
bread, but were hard of heart like adamant, fearful men. Great was their
strength and unconquerable the arms which grew from their shoulders on
their strong limbs. Their armour was of bronze, and their houses of
bronze, and of bronze were their implements: there was no black iron.
These were destroyed by their own hands and passed to the dank house of
chill Hades, and left no name: terrible though they were, black Death
seized them, and they left the bright light of the sun. But, when earth had
covered this generation also, Zeus the son of Cronos made yet another, the
fourth, upon the fruitful earth, which was nobler and more righteous, a
god–like race of hero–men who are called demi–gods, the race before our
own, throughout the boundless earth. Grim war and dread battle destroyed
a part of them, some in the land of Cadmus at seven–gated Thebes when
they fought for the flocks of Oedipus, and some, when it had brought them
in ships over the great sea gulf to Troy for rich–haired Helen’s sake: there
death’s end enshrouded a part of them. But, to the others father Zeus the
son of Cronos gave a living and an abode apart from men, and made them
dwell at the ends of earth. And they live untouched by sorrow in the
islands of the blessed along the shore of deep–swirling Ocean, happy
heroes for whom the grain–giving earth bears honey–sweet fruit
flourishing thrice a year, far from the deathless gods, and Cronos rules
over them; for the father of men and gods released him from his bonds.
And these last equally have honour and glory. And again far–seeing Zeus
made yet another generation, the fifth, of men who are upon the bounteous
earth. Thereafter, would that I were not among the men of the fifth
generation, but either had died before or been born afterwards. For now
truly is a race of iron, and men never rest from labour and sorrow by day,
and from perishing by night; and the gods shall lay sore trouble upon
them. But, notwithstanding, even these shall have some good mingled with
their evils. And Zeus will destroy this race of mortal men also when they
come to have grey hair on the temples at their birth [in other words, the
race will be so degenerate that even a new–born child will show the marks
of old age]. The father will not agree with his children, nor the children
with their father, nor guest with his host, nor comrade with comrade; nor
will brother be dear to brother as aforetime. Men will dishonour their
parents as they grow quickly old, and will carp at them, chiding them with
bitter words, hard–hearted they, not knowing the fear of the gods.
 79

They will not repay their aged parents the cost of their nurture, for might
shall be their right: and one man will sack another’s city. There will be no
favour for the man who keeps his oath or for the just or for the good; but
rather men will praise the evil–doer and his violent dealing. Strength will
be right, and reverence will cease to be; and the wicked will hurt the
worthy man, speaking false words against him, and will swear an oath
upon them. Envy, foul–mouthed, delighting in evil, with scowling face, will
go along with wretched men one and all. And then Aidos and Nemesis,
with their sweet forms wrapped in white robes, will go from the wide–
pathed earth and forsake mankind to join the company of the deathless
gods: and bitter sorrows will be left for mortal men, and there will be no
help against evil.”

Next in vv. 34–35, we read: “as you were watching, a rock was quarried—
but not with human hands—and it struck the iron and clay feet of the
statue, breaking them to pieces. Then the iron, the clay, the bronze, the
silver, and the gold were broken in pieces together and became like chaff
from a summer threshing floor that the breeze carries away without
leaving a trace. Then the rock that struck the statue grew into a huge
mountain and filled the entire earth.”
Thus, this statue did not last forever, for a “rock” eventually destroyed it.
This rock was “quarried” from a mountain [not to be equated with the
mountain that results from the rock], and this mountain from which the
rock is “quarried” depicts the sphere of origin for the rock, not its result.
So, not only was the rock “quarried” from a mountain, but this was done
“not with human hands.” In other words, it has an origin from a divine
source. Thus, notice that the rock struck the statue precisely on its feet.
Normally, a deathblow would be rendered to the head or chest, but in this
case the point of assault is at the feet. Since the statue represents
successive kingdoms, this would imply that it is during the days of the
final kingdom [symbolized by the feet] that the statue is destroyed.
Although the statue speaks of successive kingdoms, there is a sense in
which they represent one entity, for they are crushed all at the same time.
The deathblow rendered to the “feet” spells the end for the entire entity of
kingdoms, all of human rule. The parts of the statue are destroyed
“together,” that is, decisively and completely, not gradually. As a result,
they became like chaff from a summer threshing floor.
A threshing floor was usually an open area outside a city gate which would
get a good breeze that was freely available to all for threshing wheat. In
the summer months [the normal time for harvesting the wheat], the wheat
would be tossed up in the air so that the wind would carry away the
worthless chaff. Thus, with the destruction of the statue we finally see the
true value of what the statue symbolized: the parts were worthless in value
before God. That no trace of them was left suggests that they will be
totally done away with, no longer to interfere with God’s plan for history.
This is a stronger point than saying that the “rock” will simply have
dominion over the statue, because it “grew into a huge mountain and filled
the entire earth.” Thus, God’s plan for history will culminate in a universal
kingdom that stems from the powerful “rock” and this prepares us for the
interpretation now to be revealed [later in vv. 36–45]. In other words, these
kingdoms have one thing in common: they represent the Gentile powers
that dominate over Israel, beginning with the Babylonian exile brought on
by Nebuchadnezzar himself, and Israel’s exile into Babylon is the
beginning of what Jesus later referred to as “the times of the gentiles”
[Luke 21:24], a long period of history when Israel would be disciplined
and subjected to the Gentile nations.
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Furthermore, although all scholars agree that the components of the statue
represent various kingdoms, they do not always agree as to which
kingdoms are intended. There are three main interpretative issues at stake:
1. Which four primary kingdoms are intended?
2. How do the “toes” and “feet” relate to the 4th kingdom? Is this a
separate 5th kingdom? Or is it simply part of the 4th kingdom?
four are Nebuchadnezzar and his three dynastic successors [Amil–Marduk,
Nergalsarusur, and Nabunaid], or these are four kings that are mentioned
by name in Daniel’s book [Nebuchadnezzar, Belshazzar, Darius, and
Cyrus]. Nevertheless, it has been traditionally understood that these first
four kingdoms begin with Babylon and extend to the Roman Empire,
where Josephus affirmed that the 4th kingdom was Rome [Ant. 10.11.7], as
does the Talmud [b. Šebu. 20; b. Abod. Zar. 2b; b. Yoma 77a; Meg. 11a;
Qidd. 72a]. However, the interpretation of the Roman Empire has varied.

3. What kind of kingdom does the God set up and when does it come? John Walton [21st century ancient Near Eastern scholar] summarizes:
“Three positions are commonly held among evangelicals today, all of
Although there are minor variations concerning the interpretation of the which posit Rome as the 4th empire: (1) The 4th kingdom and the 10 horns
first four kingdoms, the differences boil down to one of two schemes. are all in the past, and God’s kingdom is represented and fulfilled in the
Thus, here is a chart that includes Daniel’s interpretation, the Greek view, church. Fulfilment is viewed as complete. This view is at least as old as
and the Roman view [depending on the interpretation of the 4th kingdom]: Augustine. (2) The 4th kingdom is still in power through the continued
influence (political, religious, cultural, etc.) of the Roman Empire, but the
Dream Interpretation Roman View Greek View 10–horns stage is still future. An early proponent of this view is Jerome,
Gold head Nebuchadnezzar Babylon Babylon and it seems to be the most popular view, historically speaking. But it is
Silver nd
A 2 inferior kingdom held by very few today because of the historical difficulties. (3) The 4th
Medo–Persia Media kingdom is over, and we are now in a prophetic gap that will end when a
torso after Nebuchadnezzar
Bronze A 3rd kingdom rules over 10–nation confederacy reconstitutes the Roman Empire.”
Greece Persia
midsection the whole earth
Greece, beginning Thus, since critical scholars reject the traditional authorship of Daniel’s
A 4th kingdom that crushes Rome, where book, and attribute it to an unknown author/editor in 165 b.c. during the
with Alexander, and
and breaks all the others, the iron–clay Maccabean period, they cannot hold to Rome being the 4th kingdom.
ending with
but it is a divided kingdom toes are an Nevertheless, Rome did not come to power until after 165 b.c., and to
Iron legs intermarriages
[feet/toes], partly strong extension of admit Rome as the 4th kingdom would ironically be to admit that Daniel’s
between dynasties
like iron and partly brittle the Roman book records true prophecy! In other words, whether one dates the Roman
that succeed
like iron mixed with clay Empire Empire from its conquest of Carthage [146 b.c.], from Pompey’s conquest
Alexander
God’s of Syria–Palestine [63 b.c.], or from Octavian being renamed Augustus as
God’s kingdom endures God’s kingdom at the 1st Roman Emperor [27 b.c.], clearly Rome did not become a dominant
kingdom at
Rock forever and destroys all st some point after the world empire until after 165 b.c. Thus, critical scholars [rejecting any
the 1 coming
human kingdoms fall of Greece prophecy about Rome] contend that Greece must be the final 4th kingdom.
of Jesus

So, other than these two major schemes, some critical scholars have Bruce Chilton [21st century 2nd Temple scholar] represents these scholars:
suggested other interpretations for the four kingdoms, but none of these “Critical scholars have long since given up referring to the 4th beast as the
has succeeded in gaining a significant following. For example, either the Roman Empire, for the simple reason that the Roman Empire did not exist
at the time Daniel was written (during the 2nd century B.C.E.).

I can cite the commentaries which all list Babylonia, Media, Persia, and
Greece. However, more recently scholars been able to demonstrate that in
the Assyrian evidence the lion is associated with governmental power.
That suggests the order of Assyria, Babylonia, Persia, and Greece, the
four global empires with which Israel had to contend at the time Daniel
was composed. It would be odd if Daniel’s vision in chapter 7 were a
simple repetition of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream in chapter 2.”
So, here are four reasons for why the Roman Empire is the 4th kingdom:
1. Historically, there was no independent kingdom of Media that
followed Babylon. Instead, Babylon was conquered by the Persian
king Cyrus the Great who ruled over the joint empire of the Medes
and Persians. But, some critical scholars try to build a case that in
Greek and Roman historiography Media was recognized as a
separate empire from Persia, but concede that it never ruled over
the Jews. Also, both 2 Chronicles 36:22–23 and Ezra 1:1–4 testify
that Cyrus [the conqueror of Babylon] was a Persian king. Thus,
there never was an independent Media that ruled between Babylon
and Persia. Thus, other critical scholars admit that, since there was
no independent kingdom of Media between Babylon and Persia,
the 2nd kingdom is Media, because Media was a dominant
superpower that followed Nebuchadnezzar as an individual rather
than Babylon as a kingdom. Nevertheless, the problem with his
argument is that elsewhere in the kingdom list [later in vv. 37–45],
even though each symbol may represent both the king and
corresponding kingdom, it does include the kingdom. In other
words, the head of gold does not merely represent
Nebuchadnezzar, but also the Neo–Babylonian Empire. Thus, the
2nd kingdom must represent the kingdom that follows Babylon, not
merely Babylon’s 1st king.
2. Babylon would be given over to the Medes and Persians, not
merely to the Medes [later in Daniel 5:28].
3. The “laws of the Medes and Persians” attest that they were viewed
by Daniel as one empire [later in Daniel 6:8].
81
4. Two animals symbolize Gentile kingdoms, a ram with two horns,
and a shaggy goat. The latter is identified as Greece [later in Daniel
8:21], while the ram [as one entity] represents Media and Persia
[later in Daniel 8:20]. The shaggy goat [Greece] is characterized by
four horns [later in Daniel 8:8], which is parallel to the leopard that
has four heads, representing the four generals of Alexander the
Great [later in Daniel 7]. Thus, since the 1st beast is Babylon and
the 3rd is Greece, the 2nd must be Medo–Persia [later in Daniel 7].
Hippolytus [3rd century] says: “For the image shown at that time to
Nebuchadnezzar furnished a type of the whole world. In these times, the
Babylonians were sovereign over all, and these were the golden head of
the image. Then, after the Babylonians, the Persians held the supremacy
for 245 years, and they were represented by the silver. Then the Greeks
had the supremacy, beginning with Alexander the Macedonian, for 300
years, so that they were brass. After the Greeks came the Romans, who
were the iron. Then we have the toes of clay and iron to signify the
democracies that were subsequently to rise.”
Jerome [4th century] likewise says: “The 1st empire, the Babylonian, is
compared with the most precious metal, gold. The 2nd empire, the Medes
and Persians, bears a resemblance to silver, being inferior to the
preceding empire and superior to that which is to follow. The 3rd empire
signifies the Alexandrian empire, and that of the Macedonians and of
Alexander’s successors. Now this is properly termed brazen, for among all
the metals, bronze possesses an outstanding resonance and a clear ring,
and the blast of a brazen trumpet is heard far and wide, so that it signifies
not only fame and power of the empire, but also the eloquence of the
Greek language. Now the 4th empire, which clearly refers to the Romans,
is the iron empire that breaks in pieces and overcomes all others. But, its
feet and toes are partly iron and partly of earthenware, a fact clearly
revealed at the present moment. For just as there was at the first nothing
stronger or hardier than the Roman realm, so also in these last days there
is nothing feebler, since we require the assistance of barbarian tribes
both in our civil wars and against foreign nations.”
Thus, the 1st kingdom is Babylon [with Nebuchadnezzar as its head], and
this would be followed by Medo–Persia, Greece, and the Roman Empire.
 82

Augustine [4th century Bishop of Hippo] concludes: “We know that the
stone cut from the mountain without hands is Christ, who came from the
kingdom of the Jews without human father: the stone that shattered all
the kingdoms of the earth, all the tyrannies of idols and devils; the stone
that grew and became a great mountain and filled the whole world.”

Next in vv. 36–38, we read: “we’ll now relate its meaning to the king. You,
your majesty, king of kings—to whom the God of heaven has given the
kingdom, the power, the strength, and the glory, so that wherever people,
wild animals, or birds of the sky live, he has placed them under your
control, giving you dominion over them all—you’re that head of gold.”

Daniel, in similarity to what Joseph had once done in the foreign court of
Pharaoh [Genesis 41], reveals to the king that the head of the statue
symbolizes the Babylonian Empire and its great king, Nebuchadnezzar. In
this dream each part of the statue represents both the kingdom and the king
associated with it, as the king was considered to be the embodiment of the
kingdom. Notice that “another kingdom” arises after this 1st kingdom [later
in v. 39]. So, although Nebuchadnezzar was not the 1st Babylonian king
[his father Nabopolassar founded the Neo–Babylonian Empire and ruled
from 627–605 b.c.], he was by virtue of his lengthy 43–year reign the
greatest of the Babylonian kings. Furthermore, he was the king at the time
of the exile of Judah. So, he is the “head of gold.” Also, Daniel begins by
calling Nebuchadnezzar the “king of kings” [one of the great kings of the
earth]. Likewise Ezekiel gave this same designation to Nebuchadnezzar
[Ezekiel 26:7]. Thus, it was appropriate for Nebuchadnezzar to be
represented as the “head of gold.” However, not only does gold reflect the
quality of Nebuchadnezzar’s rule in comparison to the rulers which
followed, but Nebuchadnezzar had a special taste for gold. In the temple to
Marduk in Babylon, the inner shrine was embellished with gold.

Joan Louise Oates [21st century archaeologist] says: “Of this inner cella
Nebuchadnezzar says that he ‘covered its wall with sparkling gold, I
caused it to shine like the sun.’ Here, according to Herodotus, was the
great sitting figure of Marduk, all of gold on a golden throne, supported
on a base of gold, with a golden table standing beside it. I was told by the
Chaldeans that to make all this more than 22 tons of gold were used.
Outside the temple is a golden altar.”

Daniel spoke frankly and boldly to this eminent king by confronting him
with the truth that it was not Marduk or any other Babylonian god that
gave Nebuchadnezzar his kingship. Rather it was ʾelāh šᵊmayyāʾ [for “the
God of heaven”]. His kingdom [or sovereignty from the Aramaic
malḵûṯāʾ], the power that he exercised, and the resulting honour/glory that
he enjoyed, had been given to him by Israel’s God. Since it was common
in the ancient Near East for kings to claim that their gods had given them
their kingship, archaeologists have unearthed an inscription written by
Nebuchadnezzar himself in which he attributed his kingship to Marduk:
“from the Upper Sea to the Lower Sea … which Marduk, my lord, has
entrusted to me, I have made … the city of Babylon to the foremost among
all the countries and every human habitation.” This is from the so–called
Wadi–Brisa Inscription. The date of this inscription is not given, though it
concerned an expedition made into Syria. In another inscription on the
Cyrus Cylinder, we read: “I am Cyrus, king of the world, great king,
legitimate king, king of Babylon, king of Sumer and Akkad … whose rule
Bel and Nebo love, whom they want as king to please their hearts.” So, the
extent to which Nebuchadnezzar had been given authority and dominion is
described as “wherever people, wild animals, or birds of the sky live.” The
reference to the beasts and birds has striking parallels to the initial granting
of dominion to humanity [Genesis 1:28]. Humans had been assigned the
task of ruling over all things as God’s representative.
Eugene Merrill [21st century biblical scholar] says: “This delegation of
dominion has striking parallels to the creation mandate in which God
assigned to man the blessing and task to rule over all things as his own
image or representative (Genesis 1:28). Clearly, Nebuchadnezzar, even
as a fallen and unbelieving pagan king, could enjoy the grace of God
who allowed him to participate in the dominion mandate. He may have
been the golden head of an image of human design (Daniel 2:38), but the
image of human government is nonetheless suggestive of mankind created
to be the image of God and to rule for him on the earth.”
Thus, being God’s representative ruler as a pagan king did not excuse him
from being accountable to the ultimate sovereign of the universe!
Next in v. 39, we read: “after, another kingdom will arise that is inferior
to yours, and then a 3rd kingdom of bronze will arise to rule all the earth.”
83
So, in contrast to Babylon, the next two kingdoms are discussed in only
this one verse, but they will receive more attention [later in Daniel 7–8].
Nebuchadnezzar was not told when or how, but he did know that his
kingdom would not last forever. It would be replaced by another kingdom.
Historically, Nebuchadnezzar was blessed by God to rule from 605–562
b.c. and was followed briefly by his son Amēl–Marduk, then two sons–in–
law, and finally by his grandson Belshazzar [553–539 b.c.]. Nevertheless,
when Cyrus the Great conquered Babylon in 539 b.c., by a combined army
of the Medes and Persians [Isaiah 45:1–4], the Neo–Babylonian Empire
[made famous by Nebuchadnezzar] came to an end. Thus, at the time of
this dream, Nebuchadnezzar did not know what kingdom or king would
replace his own kingdom; he only knew that it was to be “inferior” to his
own. In what sense was the Medo–Persian Empire “inferior” to Babylon?
It certainly was not in terms of geographical extent or duration [the Persian
Empire, as it came to be known, was actually larger and lasted far longer].
Scholars think it might be “inferior” in terms of either inner unity, or it
was more corrupt morally. Another option is in regard to the authority by
the king. In other words, Nebuchadnezzar had unfettered power, but
during the Persian Empire the king was restricted in his authority, for he
could not annul a law once he had made it [later in Daniel 6:8].
Gleason Archer [20th century biblical scholar] says: “From
Nebuchadnezzar’s standpoint the restriction on his authority to annul a
law once he made it was less desirable than his own unfettered power.”
Thus, the 3rd kingdom is that made famous by Alexander the Great of
Greece when he conquered Darius III [the last of the Persian kings] at
Gaugamela in 331 b.c. This was the Hellenistic Empire, and following
Alexander’s untimely death in 323 b.c., his kingdom was eventually
parcelled out among four of his generals, each of whom spread Hellenistic
culture and the Greek language to their realms. At the end of v. 39 we are
told that this 3rd kingdom would “rule all the earth.” Up until this time, the
territory conquered by Alexander the Great was the most extensive realm
under the power of one king, as Alexander ruled over the entire world.
Next in v. 40, we read: “then there will be a fourth kingdom, as strong as
iron. Just as all things are broken to pieces and shattered by iron, so it will
shatter and crush everything.”

Iron was a fitting metal to be associated with Rome, as the Roman legions
were noted for their ability to crush all resistance with an iron heel.
Although there are some technical difficulties when translating v. 40,
nevertheless the point is that the 4th kingdom will crush and break the other
kingdoms of the world that exist at that time [later in Daniel 7:23]. Thus,
Rome virtually took whatever she wanted, and most kingdoms were
powerless to resist her might. However, although Rome ascended in power
gradually, Pompey brought Rome’s influence upon Judah in 63 b.c.
Matthew Bunson [21st century historian] says: “Having carefully nurtured
his political connections, Pompey now vexed the Roman establishment by
using his popularity to increase his influence. In 67, the lex Gabinia was
passed, providing him with a rare Imperium to hunt down and destroy the
pirates marauding the Mediterranean Sea. Three months later he had
annihilated their strongholds and had driven the buccaneers from the sea.
His imperium was extended to include the East, where he concluded
brilliantly the Mithridatic War. Following the suicide of Mithridates VI
of Pontus in 63, Pompey, on his own initiative and without relying upon
the Senate’s approval, made his own settlement of the East. He founded
client states, reorganized Judaea, established colonies, and claimed Syria
for Rome. In large measure, subsequent Roman policy in the East was
based upon this systematic adjustment.”
Next in vv. 41–43, we read: “the feet and toes that you saw, made partly of
potter’s clay and partly of iron, represent a divided kingdom. It will still
have the strength of iron, in that you saw iron mixed with clay. Just as
their toes and feet are part iron and part clay, so will the kingdom be both
strong and brittle. Just as you saw iron mixed with clay, so they will mix
themselves with human offspring. Furthermore, they won’t remain
together, just as iron doesn’t mix with clay.”
So, up until this point, there is general agreement concerning the identity
of the successive kingdoms. However, beginning with v. 41, there is more
debate. Since the “feet” are said to be made “partly of iron,” the question
arises as to what connection, if any, this part has to the “legs made of iron”
[recall v. 33]. Some scholars think that the legs and feet all refer to the
same kingdom [the Roman Empire]. But, other scholars think that despite
the commonality of iron, there is a distinctive difference between the legs
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and the feet. The latter usually take the position that the “feet” and “toes”
look at a kingdom still to come in the future, though having a connection
with ancient Rome. But, critical scholars who adhere to the Maccabean
date of Daniel’s book, and who interpret the 4th kingdom as Greece,
understand the “feet” and “toes” as an extension of Greece. In other words,
the iron and clay represent two divisions of Greece, with the iron denoting
the stronger Seleucid kingdom, and the clay as denoting the weaker
Ptolemaic kingdom. Nevertheless, within the traditional interpretation,
there are three possibilities for the chronological fulfilment of the feet:
1. This kingdom exists during the lifetime of ancient Rome and is
merely an extension of it. Thus, the fulfilment of the “feet” must
come before the end of the Roman Empire. In other words,
historically, the Roman Empire splintered into two parts: the
western lasting until 476 a.d., and the eastern lasting until 1453 a.d.
2. This kingdom immediately follows the Roman Empire, and we
must look for an historical fulfilment in the past, but also after it.
3. This kingdom does not immediately follow the 4th kingdom, and
there is an unspecified gap of time that must be understood
between the demise of the 4th kingdom [Rome] and the feet/toes.
Thus, to solve this interpretative problem, careful hermeneutical rules are
required: to see if the text itself interprets the symbolism, or to look for
hints from the immediate context, or to look for hints from the broader
biblical context, or to look for the historical context [if there is a historical
correlation]. Thus, since the text does not interpret the symbolism of the
feet/toes, we first need to look for any hints from the immediate context:
1. The element of iron suggests that the “feet” must have some
connection to the 4th kingdom [since each metal speaks of a
different kingdom], although the mixed components [iron/clay]
suggest that this kingdom is distinct from the 4th kingdom of Rome.
2. The kingdom represented by the feet/toes is a confederacy of
nations/kings that might exist simultaneously, since God will set up
his kingdom “during the reigns of those kings” [later in v. 44].

3. When God’s kingdom arrives, the Gentile kingdoms will end, since
“it will shatter and crush all of these kingdoms” [later in v.44].
Notice that this 3rd option eliminates the 1st and 2nd options. But, a crucial
problem arises about the feet/toes representing the Roman Empire: there
was no kingdom set up by God that crushed and ended the Gentile
kingdoms. If God’s kingdom was established by Jesus at his 1st coming,
why did the Roman Empire end in 476 a.d. [west] and 1453 a.d. [east]?
Thus, we must turn to the broader biblical context. If the feet/toes was a
confederacy of Roman kings that existed simultaneously [later in v. 44],
then how many kings comprise this confederacy? An answer could be
derived from the number of “toes” of the feet [10 toes = 10 kings].
However, critical scholars treat this as a round number and argue that it is
not only 10 kings [because a literal number can ruin the symbolism].
Nevertheless, notice that Daniel mentions the “toes” twice. So, if Daniel is
only concerned with the feet of mixed iron and clay, then why did he
repeatedly refer to the toes? Thus, the repeated reference to the toes argues
for literal 10 Roman kings that comprise this confederacy, and since
Daniel 2 and Daniel 7 are in parallel, we are specifically told the 10 horns
represent 10 kings that come out of this Roman kingdom [later in Daniel
7:23–24]. Thus, in 68 a.d., John revealed that “the ten horns that you saw
are ten kings who have not yet received a kingdom. They will receive
authority to rule as kings with the beast for one hour” [Revelation 17:12].
Peter Leithart [21st century New Testament scholar] explains the details:
“The horns are explicitly identified as 10 kings. What kings are included?
As the horns of Daniel’s 4th beast, these are kings of Rome, the Roman
emperors from Julius on. They are the first 10 emperors: Julius Caesar,
Augustus, Tiberius, Gaius Caligula, Claudius, Nero, Galba, Otho,
Vitellius, and Vespasian. From Julius to Vitellius, we are in the Julio–
Claudian line, but Vespasian founds another dynasty, the Flavian, and it is
under his leadership that Jerusalem is invested by his son Titus. The end
of the first 10–king dynasty of Rome is a pragmatic marker of the end of
Rome’s role as a beast of the oikoumene. Having overseen Israel for a
time, having protected the church, having been used to carry out the
Lord’s vengeance against Babylon, the beast of the oikoumene retires. The
weakness of this suggestion is that the horns act in unison against the
harlot, while the emperors lived at different times. Obviously, not all of
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them were present when the Romans besieged Jerusalem. Perhaps they are
envisioned as a simultaneous unit, as the imperial statue of Daniel 2 is a
single unit, though what it represents is spread over centuries. As the
entire imperial structure from Babylon to Rome was ground to powder at
the coming of the kingdom of God, so the entire sequence of Roman horns
is taken as a royal collective to assault the harlot. Odd as this seems, it is
consistent with the way John’s visions portray the monsters of Daniel 7.
The beast that emerges from the sea is a composite of all the beasts, but it
behaves like the final beast, trampling and destroying. This beast
incorporates Nebuchadnezzar and Cyrus, but those emperors showed
favour to Israel, while the beast of Revelation attacks the saints. In the
scarlet beast, we see nothing like Nebuchadnezzar’s humility or of Cyrus’s
liberation of the Jews, yet the scarlet beast still has the fallen heads of
Babylon and Persia. The beast’s actions are defined by the actions of the
final beast and the final head. There is a theological point behind this
visionary style: The beast is what it is in the end; it is what it is
eschatologically. Revelation applies the same logic to the horns. Only
Vespasian strips and burns Jerusalem, but the collection of emperors is
what it is in its final manifestation. All are defined by Vespasian’s act of
divine vengeance against the harlot who drinks holy blood. Another
difficulty is that the kings ‘have not yet received a kingdom.’ How can this
describe 10 Roman emperors who reigned over a vast empire? Perhaps
the accent is on the fact that they do not yet have independent authority.
The dragon summons the sea beast and grants him a throne and authority,
turning the beast and, implicitly, its kings against the church. Once the
scarlet beast is eliminated, the kings acquire their own kingdom for their
own purposes. For now, the horns share in the authority of the beast. They
cede him the authority he gave them by using their authority for the
beast’s purposes. They will not do that forever.”
Finally in vv. 44–45, we read: “during the reigns of those kings, the God
of heaven will set up a kingdom that will never be destroyed, nor its
sovereignty left in the hands of another people. It will shatter and crush all
of these kingdoms, and it will stand forever. Now, just as you saw that the
stone was cut out of the mountain without human hands—and that it
crushed the iron, bronze, clay, silver, and gold to pieces—so also the great
God has revealed to the king what will take place after this. Your dream
will come true, and its meaning will prove trustworthy.”

Thus, God will eventually set up a kingdom of his own, which
undoubtedly refers to the same kingdom given to the “son of man” [later in
Daniel 7:13–14]. This kingdom “will stand forever” and “will never be
destroyed.” The time of this kingdom’s establishment is said to be “during
the reigns of those kings.” This refers to all four preceding kingdoms, with
the 4th one [Rome] representing the others. Thus, God’s kingdom is
established at the time of the Roman Empire [at the 1st coming of Jesus].
Nevertheless, the bible portrays God’s kingdom as also being established
at the 2nd coming of Jesus [Matthew 25:31; Luke 21:27, 31; Revelation
11:15]. Although there is a sense in which God’s kingdom is now [during
this church age], there is also emphasis on the formal establishment of
God’s kingdom that will come about at the eschaton in glory. In other
words, the present aspect of God’s kingdom is seen in Colossians 1:13 and
Revelation 1:6. This pertains to our citizenship and the function that we
have in this world. However, the formal establishment of God’s kingdom
awaits the 2nd coming when Jesus conquers the nations and brings them
into submission. In the meantime, we can speak of “his heavenly kingdom”
in which Jesus exercises all authority from the right hand of the Father [2
Timothy 4:18]. Thus, it is this paradoxical already–but–not–yet
eschatology, in which the blessings of the future age are already ours, but
they become ours fully only at the day of redemption and resurrection.
Thus, the “stone” that is “cut out of the mountain without human hands” is
Jesus [Isaiah 8:11–15; 28:16–17; Zechariah 3:9; Psalm 118:22–23], and he
is the one who “will shatter and crush all of these kingdoms” as David
himself says: “you will shatter them like pottery” [Psalm 2:9].
In summary, critical scholars argue that Daniel mistakenly thought that
the Medes conquered Babylon before the Persians, resulting in an
erroneous order of these four kingdoms [Babylon–Media–Persia–Greece].
But, this is not supportable in Daniel’s book, because it is clear that a
single Medo–Persian Empire is envisioned in the visions [later in Daniel
8:20]. Furthermore, the prediction of the coming of the Persians is
interpreted as the coming of the Medes–and–the–Persians, as if a single
entity [later in Daniel 5:28]. Likewise, Darius the Mede was subject to the
irrevocable law of the Medes and Persians [later in Daniel 6:8, 12, 15]. If
the Medes were a kingdom separate from the Persians, there would be
little reason for Darius to be subject to Persian law. Thus, this makes sense
if the kingdom of Darius is Medo–Persia, not just Media. Also, Daniel
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served the Babylonian court until the 1st year of King Cyrus [recall Daniel
1:21], which would not be true if a Median kingdom occurred before
Cyrus. Thus, Media is not viewed in Daniel’s book as a separate kingdom
that took Babylon before the Persians [in these prophecies]. Instead, the
Medes are one part of a single Medo–Persian empire. Thus, some critical
scholars propose an alternative view that the four kingdoms consist of
Babylon, Medo–Persia, Alexander’s empire, and the successors of
Alexander [the Seleucid Empire], but this is also problematic. No unified
empire existed after Alexander, but rather a whole series of broken ones
grew out of Alexander’s kingdom. There is not enough cultural or political
distinction between Alexander’s Greek kingdom and the Greek kingdoms
that follow to justify representing them as separate kingdoms. The 3rd
kingdom of Alexander would be very short–lived [336–323 b.c.] as
compared with the span of the others: Babylon [605–539 b.c.], Persian
[539–331 b.c.], and Seleucid [312–63 b.c.]. Thus, the split up of
Alexander’s kingdom is seen as four horns coming out of the same beast
that represents Alexander’s Greek kingdom [later in Daniel 8:8], not as a
separate entity from a separate beast. So, the traditional view is that
Daniel’s four kingdoms are Babylon, Medo–Persia, Greece, and Rome.
Then, out of the 4th kingdom of Rome comes the “insignificant horn” [later
in Daniel 8:9]. Furthermore, both Paul and John apply this language of
Daniel to the time of Rome [2 Thessalonians 2; Revelation 13]. Thus,
Daniel’s prophecies are not erroneous, for God’s kingdom did not arrive at
the downfall of Antiochus IV Epiphanes. Even Josephus affirmed that this
concerned Rome’s desolation of Israel and concerning Rome itself being
overthrown by God’s kingdom [Ant. 10.10.4; 10.11.7]. Here is a summary:
Symbol Traditional Old Critical Alternative Critical
[Daniel 2/7] View View View
Head of Gold
Babylon Babylon Babylon
[1st Beast]
Breast of Silver
Medo–Persia Media Medo–Persia
[2nd Beast]
Belly of Brass
Greek Empire Persia Alexander’s Empire
[3rd Beast]
Legs of Iron
Roman Empire Greek Empire Alexander’s Successors
[4th Beast]

Nevertheless, there is a key objection to the traditional view: the Roman
Empire has come and gone, so how can the antichrist come out of it? Is the
spirit of the Roman Empire somehow still alive? Perhaps it is not simply
Rome which has come and gone, but a still future eschatological kingdom
that is only Rome–like. Thus, Daniel’s 4th kingdom is Rome–and–beyond.
Paul House [21st century biblical scholar] summarizes the details: “This
part of Daniel’s interpretation has long stimulated scholarly and popular
discourse. First, dividing history into three, four, or five eras is an ancient
literary device. No–one can ascertain its first usage with certainty, but
Persian, Greek, and Roman writers all utilized some variety of it. The
representation of four metallic ages goes back at least to Hesiod’s Work
and Days of the 7th century b.c. Writing in the 5th century b.c., Herodotus
used a three–nation (Assyria, Media, and Persia) scheme, and credited
Persian sources for his viewpoint. The Fourth Sibylline Oracle, which
dates from the 1st century a.d., but includes material that dates to
Alexander the Great’s era in the 4th century b.c., features a four–nation
(Assyria, Media, Persia, and Greece) scheme that ends with Rome as the
5th and greatest land. Thus, Daniel participates in a long and valued
tradition. God communicates with Nebuchadnezzar, Daniel, and the
original readers, through a known format. Current readers may not know
this format, but are used to historians dividing history into significant
periods of time. Second, the beginning and end of the four–part list matter
a great deal. Though most schemes began with Assyria, Daniel begins with
Babylon, thus highlighting its prominence. Most writers end with the most
recent nation, probably to signify that nation’s importance. For instance,
the Sibylline Oracle highlights Rome by making it the 5th and finest
kingdom. This strategy corresponds to Daniel 2:44–45, and is a natural
deduction for someone attempting to include the longest–surviving great
empires. Interestingly, Babylon routinely gets left out of these ancient
lists, which may underscore its short tenure compared to the others.
Third, experts are divided over whether Greece or Rome constitutes the 4th
kingdom in Daniel, with most recent scholars choosing the former and
most ancient writers the latter. Daniel mentions Babylon, Media, Persia,
and Greece (Daniel 2:38; 5:31; 6:28; 8:21), so those nations are certainly
in the author’s mind. Nonetheless, this disagreement highlights the fact
that the literary scheme can change as history does. The 4th nation
basically stands for the most ‘recent’ empire, so later writers could with
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integrity change the 1st or 4th nation as needed. Fourth, everyone agrees
that the kingdom vv. 44–45 describes is God’s kingdom. Thus, all conclude
that it is the most important kingdom, the one that incorporates and ends
all others. All commentators stress that this is the most important element
of eschatology. Then v. 39 quickly summarizes two kingdoms that will
follow Nebuchadnezzar, the head of gold. The 2nd does not seem to have
the extensive rule of the 1st and 3rd ones. If so, then the two can fit
Nebuchadnezzar’s Babylonian descendants during 562–539 b.c., or the
Medes, who rule Babylon briefly (Daniel 5:31; 6:28). Persia likely ruled
the world that the original readers inhabited. Then vv. 40–43 deal with the
4th kingdom, the most controversial one. This kingdom will be like iron.
Prior kingdoms will fall to this one. Like all human kingdoms, however,
this one has a flaw. Its feet are partly iron, and partly clay. With this
unstable base, it can stand partly strong and partly brittle for some time.
But, it cannot stand indefinitely. Unity is impossible and the kingdom is
vulnerable because it is seeking to unite elements which will not
coalesce. Leaders will try to stabilize the kingdom by mixing the seed of
man, which may refer to intermarriage of royal families (Daniel 11:6) or
relocating people in new lands. Most scholars prefer the intermarriage
possibility, and many particularly point to the intermarriage between the
Seleucids and Ptolemies, the inheritors of Alexander the Great’s empire
(Daniel 11:17). The relocation possibility derives from the fact that similar
language occurs in Jeremiah 31:27, where God promises to sow the land
of Israel and Judah with ‘the seed of man and the seed of beast.’ The
language here is not so specific as to refer to particular intermarriages.
The expression here is unusual, and its meaning is far from certain. The
text does not specify here what sort of mingling takes place. Nonetheless,
it is clear that whatever they try will fail. While these kingdoms exist, God
will be raising a kingdom that will not be destroyed, that will not be
handed over to another people. It takes some time for a rock to push
through the ground and compromise a statue’s base. Still, it makes slow,
steady, unrelenting progress. This rock will break all other kingdoms, and
bring them to an end. In sharp contrast to them all, even the ones with the
greatest longevity, this kingdom will stand for ever. This is the kingdom
kings and exiles alike must seek. Daniel 7:9–14 explains who will inhabit
and who will rule this kingdom, but for now it is enough to look forward to
the kingdom itself. Daniel closes his speech with a flourish. Just as this
mountain will rise by the power of no human hand, so this interpretation

has come to Nebuchadnezzar by divine power, not by human hands. How
can he be so sure? Because a large God has made known to the king what
will happen after this, the day in which they live. Daniel knows the king
has seen ‘a large statue,’ and he wishes him to see this ‘God of heaven,’
who kindly reveals hidden knowledge to a fretful young king.”
Thus, the dream of Nebuchadnezzar in Daniel 2 is straightforward. There
are a series of kingdoms, each chronologically following the other, where
history culminates with God replacing all human kingdoms with his own
kingdom. Thus, through this preliminary vision in Daniel 2, we see that the
foundation for God’s kingdom plan has been laid, on which further
information will be added in subsequent chapters of Daniel’s book.
Craig Blaising [21st century New Testament scholar] says: “There is a
progression in the complexity of the pattern in Daniel’s visions from the
relatively simple image of a collision (Daniel 2) to a narrated pattern of
an antagonist who is destroyed by God. The antagonist is gradually shown
to be a blasphemer who exalts himself as a god.”
Thus, Daniel ended his presentation to the king by saying, “Your dream
will come true, and its meaning will prove trustworthy.” It is inevitable for
humans to creatively analyse history and posit theories about the future.
However, the only correct view of history is the biblical one. What God
revealed to Nebuchadnezzar in this dream was a sketch of where history
was going, but it was entirely correct in every detail that it provided!
Through historical hindsight, Christians can take consolation in the fact
that the kingdoms symbolized by this statue did come to pass one by one.
God knew beforehand that Babylon would be succeeded by Medo–Persia,
Medo–Persia by Greece, and Greece by the Roman Empire. God even had
the power to reveal this to Nebuchadnezzar, using Daniel as a guide. If
these aspects of the dream were literally fulfilled, then certainly the
prediction about God’s kingdom to be set up “during the reigns of those
kings” would also be fulfilled, and that is what happened in Jesus, as Paul
says: “He is far above every ruler, authority, power, dominion, and every
name that can be named, not only in the present age, but also in the one to
come. God has put everything under the Messiah’s feet and has made him
the head of everything for the good of the church, which is his body, the
fullness of the one who fills everything in every way.” [Ephesians 1:21–23]
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Eugene Carpenter [21st century biblical scholar] beautifully concludes:
“What is interpretation? In this case it involved taking a dream image and
relating it to the realities of the present and the future—the realities of
earthly history and the realities of the meta–historical world, the
controlling agencies of the divine realms. And, just as importantly, it
involved Daniel’s giving a divine interpretation of the dream, since his
interpretation was not his own, but came from his God. The challenge of
the church has been to understand the interpretation Daniel presented and
relate it to (1) the New Testament’s understanding of Daniel, and to (2) a
theology of history, and (3) also to specific kings and kingdoms as they
rise and fall (whether secular or divine), while realizing that Daniel is
apocalyptic literature in which fluid and suggestive imagery abounds
that can be applied as representative symbols of actual historical
realities, but not exhausted by any particular historical entity. Finally,
the church has attempted to distil from this revelation truths to live by
under any worldly kingdom. This grandiose chapter is not limited to four
historical kingdoms or entities, but rather displays a model of the
kingdoms of this world that attaches to representative historical entities, a
model that is universal in its meaning and scope. John employs this
imagery to create a picture of the end that takes up all that Daniel says
and interprets it in light of the Christ event as past, present, and future
(Revelation 13; 20). The reality is that it is not the four kingdoms of this
dream, but the 5th that is the most important in giving meaning to the
historical process. Its origin and creation is an act of God, but in spite of
its heavenly origin, this kingdom interacts with history and other historical
kingdoms. In this light, the preceding four earthly kingdoms are presented
from a partly meta–historical perspective, for it is clear that God has been
in charge all the time (vv. 24, 37–38, 44). These nations embedded in the
historical matrix are also connected to the heavenly matrix and operate
within that larger matrix. According to the biblical authors, Babylon was
the beginning and would be the end of the corrupt, rebellious, and false
kingdoms of this world (Genesis 10:10; 11:1–9; Revelation 18). Once the
head fell, the feet could not be guided, nor could any other part of the
body, and if the portion of the body made of gold fails, then how much
more will the parts of lesser quality come to an end? The kingdom after
Nebuchadnezzar receives short billing—half of a sentence—and it is
basically negative. This kingdom receives its share of attention later in
Daniel 6; 7:6; 8; 10; 11. It will be inferior to Nebuchadnezzar’s kingdom.

This is recognizable in the image itself in that the silver is less valuable
than gold and in that it is below the head, indicating both inferiority and
the fact that it comes after the Babylonian kingdom. However, the chest
and arms imagery suggests the power and strength of this kingdom. This
was evident in the way Cyrus the Great of Persia steamrolled the nations
of the world in his day, as the Lord gave him victory after victory. Yet all
of his victories, unknown to him, were accomplished for the sake of
Israel (Isaiah 45:4–8). Persia never achieved the intellectual and
religious dominance that had characterized Babylon. Although Alexander
the Great was enamoured with Persian splendour, his choice of a capital
for his future empire was the city of Babylon. The 3rd nation to arise would
rule the world, as was asserted about Babylon. The rulership of this
kingdom is the only aspect of its character that is stressed. Greece has
often been identified as this kingdom. Given the exploits of Alexander, not
merely the military successes, but even more so the intellectual and
political ones, this is a strong possibility. Alexander disseminated Greek
culture, politics, philosophy (especially Aristotle), and religion throughout
the ancient Near East, including Egypt, and not only in the ancient Near
East, for while the Romans conquered the Greeks, the religion,
philosophy, politics, and culture of Greece conquered and seduced the
Roman mind. The 4th kingdom, historically associated with Rome, but
signifying still more, is represented by the lower legs of iron of the image
and the feet made up of clay and iron and is given more attention than the
previous kingdoms, including Nebuchadnezzar’s. This is for good reason,
for with this 4th kingdom the end of earthly man–made history and
rulership comes to a devastating conclusion, as it encounters a kingdom
whose origin is not with men, but with God himself. This 4th kingdom will
not be able to unite and maximize its potential for world dominance. As
diversity of languages split up the Tower of Babel, so the inability of
cultures within this empire to live in peace dismantles this behemoth of
destruction. Multiculturalism would become tribalism and the social and
political fabric of the empire would not hold. Civil war contributed greatly
to the Roman Empire’s eventual dissolution. The great historian Livy
(59/64 b.c. to 12/17 a.d.) observed and lamented Rome’s fall:
‘Contemporary history displays our nation suicidally eating up its own
mighty resources. Let it be noted how the moral rot started, how standards
were gradually sapped, then crumbled more and more ominously, and
finally began to collapse into utter ruin. This is the state we have now
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reached. Our defects are unendurable to us—and so are their cures. From
unlimited self–indulgence has come a longing to pursue vicious
extravagance to the point of personal and universal annihilation.’ The
following key assertions are noted about this kingdom: (1) It is as strong
as iron (the 4th kingdom of Daniel 7 has ‘huge iron teeth’). (2) Because of
its iron–like nature, it will destroy the other nations that came before. It
will be an exceedingly powerful and devastating military machine. (3)
However, weakness is discerned in the composition of this kingdom. It is a
composite kingdom whose various components will not, in the end,
combine and form a unity. So, it is easily broken and crushed at its most
vulnerable points—not its Achilles tendon, but a foundation of weak and
unstable feet. Here again are echoes of a divided Tower of Babel. (4) The
unstable aspect of the kingdom at its foundation endangers the entire
image, so that it falls. All the other nations before it teeter, not only
because of the military might of this last kingdom, but because the
supports of the world system are defective. This 4th kingdom could not, in
the end, sustain the weight of the world systems, even though it
contained the strongest metal of the four and should have served as a
secure foundation. Yet the clay indicates inherent weaknesses within these
solid iron pylons, and even the iron seems to presage a future when iron
will be used to pierce the nations (Isaiah 2:4; Joel 3:10; Micah 4:3). This
kingdom and its related world systems contained the seeds of their own
demise. A blow to the feet of the image would place the entire structure
in danger. The huge image collapsed, not only by the blow to its feet, but
because it ultimately had no solid foundation upon which to rest. It
produced division within itself; its own foundation succumbed, crumbled,
and collapsed. Attempts within the world system to create unity fail; it is
destined for certain annihilation. It is no accident that the image was
attacked at its feet, not its head. This 4th kingdom of iron and clay has
most often been interpreted as the Roman Empire by both ancient and
modern conservative exegetes and historians. However, a sequence of four
kingdoms consisting of Babylon, Media, Persia, and Greece has been
argued, though less often, both in antiquity and in modern times. Some
exegetes have argued that the metals represent four Babylonian kings that
followed Nebuchadnezzar. Indeed, a staggering number of sequences of
kingdoms or kings have been suggested. The first suggested sequence
seems the most convincing when an early date is accepted, and when the
prophetic dimension of the book is recognized. But, the huge statue of the

dream stands not just for four kingdoms, but also for all the kingdoms of
this world, all the empires that will arise, for the number 4 may represent
completeness, and the related formula 3 + 1 = 4 refers to something
repeated over and over (Amos 1:3, 6, 9, 11, 13). These kingdoms
foreshadow what is to come in the unravelling of human destiny. They are
more fully presented in Daniel 7. During the reign of the kings and
kingdoms of this statue, but especially during the last kingdom, God will
establish his kingdom, as he has done in the case of all the previous
kingdoms. This kingdom is different because it will not end. The 5th
kingdom is the most important, and its identity is certain. The goal of
history finds its fulfilment in a meta–historical kingdom, yet one that
breaks into history itself. It is the Kingdom of God—the Eternal Kingdom,
whose origin is from God. The monotonous rise–and–fall cycle of world
kingdoms through the millennia will end; stability will be reached. All the
previous kingdoms came to an end as they were conquered by other
kingdoms. While this one destroys all the previous kingdoms, it is not
destroyed nor does it pass away. The essential difference in the
establishment of this kingdom is that it is not created ‘by human hands’
but by God. This Kingdom of God is not something whose origin lies
within the creative genius of human beings; its very essence is generated
by the God of heaven. A portion of its people were present in Daniel’s
time, and others with Daniel will receive their lot within it. Some
Christians see here symbolism pointing toward the virgin birth of Christ,
while others discern a reference to the birth of the church or the Kingdom
of God in the New Testament. Still others see a reference to the creation of
the Kingdom of God at the end of history, or a preliminary millennial
kingdom. Rock imagery was popular in antiquity. The ancient religion of
Mithraism claimed that Mithras had been born of a rock. In ancient
Babylon, a husband could pray for the god Shamash to grant his wife the
‘stone of childbirth,’ a reference to the ancient practice of using a birthing
stone. The function of the stone of Daniel 2, as we shall see when we look
at Daniel 7, parallels the ‘Son of Man’ figure (Daniel 7:13). There is a
strong emphasis and agreement presented by the figures of the stone and
the Son of Man, specifically in their emphasis on the heavenly origin of the
present rule of kingdoms and kings and its current and future submission
to the plan of God, who will eventually create and inaugurate a heavenly
and eternal kingdom. Some ancient rabbinic sources held that the Aramaic
word for ‘stone’ used here (’eben) is employed to recall the Hebrew word
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for ‘son’ (ben), which created a wordplay that pointed forward to the
Aramaic word for ‘son’ (bar) mentioned in Daniel 7:13. Other rabbinic
sources link these passages by other means and go on to establish a
messianic reference for the stone and the figure coming with the clouds.
Rock imagery is also employed in the New Testament: Jesus became the
chief cornerstone, even after being a rejected stone (Mark 12:10; Luke
20:18; Matthew 21:42); according to the confession of his divinity, he was
the rock upon which the church would be built (Matthew 16:18). In short,
the stone imagery in the Old and New Testaments was used to refer to
God, to the Messiah, and here to the Kingdom of God (Genesis 49:24;
Deuteronomy 32:4; Psalm 118:22–23; Isaiah 8:14; 28:16; 1 Peter 2:6–8).
In the immediate Jewish setting of Daniel’s book, the stone must represent
the Kingdom of the holy people—that is, of Israel as it inherits the earth;
but both here and in Daniel 7, the Kingdom has a universal dimension
surrounding it in its context—here it replaces all the kingdoms of the
statue. The rock is not a precious metal or a metal used to shape
instruments of war and destruction; rather, it is a natural object of
relatively little economic value to men, but here it is cut and shaped
without human agency. Therefore, it is able to crush even the iron legs of
the image, as well as its unstable feet. In contrast to the head of the huge
statue, made of luxurious gold that glitters, this 5th kingdom has a small,
but divinely orchestrated beginning. It would endure; it would not be
another Tower of Babel made by human hands to magnify themselves
(Genesis 11:1–9). The rock’s stability and endurance and its origin
guarantee its endurance and dominion. This amazing scenario pertains to
the future, but clearly impacts the present, as well, because it is not merely
a dream whose significance appears and vanishes with the dream itself.
The reality of the dream is the shape of the future. Henceforth, even the
Babylonian king should know that history is on a mission. Its teleology is
reached in God’s kingdom, a kingdom of eternal and divine qualities.”
6) How did Nebuchadnezzar respond to Daniel’s disclosure? (2:46–49)
Starting with vv. 46–47, we read: “then King Nebuchadnezzar fell on his
face before Daniel, paid honour to him, and commanded that an offering
and incense be presented on his behalf. The king told Daniel, ‘Truly your
God is the God of gods, the Lord of kings, and the Revealer of Secrets,
because you were able to reveal this mystery.’”

Since Daniel gave such a startling and accurate presentation of the dream
and its interpretation, this left the king filled with awe, realizing that
Daniel had done something that none of his Babylonian wise men were
able to do. Thus, “Nebuchadnezzar fell on his face before Daniel, paid
honour to him, and commanded that an offering and incense be presented
on his behalf.” Daniel does not tell us who else might have been present
and observing this, because for a Babylonian king to have prostrated
himself before one of the young Jewish captives is almost too remarkable
to believe! Furthermore, presenting an offering and burning incense were
acts of veneration given to the gods. However, by Hellenistic times, they
were also done for benefactors whose help was thought to merit god–like
veneration, though each could be done for kings as early as Babylonian
times in a non–worship sense of honour offered by an inferior to a superior
[like obeisance, offering a gift, or burning incense/perfume]. The Aramaic
verb sᵊgîḏ [for “paid honour”] is used 11 times for the worship of
Nebuchadnezzar’s statue [later in Daniel 3]. Thus, falling prostrate is a
way of showing respect to kings and gods, and for Nebuchadnezzar to do
this before his subject Daniel was most ironic, though the real purpose
may be to pay homage to Israel’s God by honouring his servant Daniel.
This appears blasphemous from a Jewish perspective [Acts 14:8–18].
However, Daniel did not overtly object to the king’s actions, because he
saw it as giving him not divine status, but temporary quasi–royal status.
Since images were a sign of divine presence and could be a means of
revelation, Nebuchadnezzar had no image of Yahweh to worship, so he
worshiped Yahweh indirectly through honouring his mouthpiece: Daniel.
Thus, his offering to Daniel was an indirect way of seeking to appease
Daniel’s God, who holds people accountable for sin. Had he actually
worshiped Daniel, this would have created theological tension for Daniel
in writing this account. This is why Nebuchadnezzar gives glory to God.
Alan Millard [21st century ancient Near Eastern scholar] summarizes:
“Daniel 2:46 reports how the Babylonian king gave great honours to
Daniel for telling him his dream and interpreting it. It is almost
universally assumed that the king was treating Daniel as a god. Collins,
for example, writes, ‘The specifically religious character of the veneration
is underlined by the mention of sacrifice and incense.’ Likewise Porteous
writes, ‘Nebuchadnezzar’s payment of homage to Daniel might merely
have meant the reversal of the homage a subject was expected to pay to the
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king. The use, however, of the terms ‘sacrifice’ and ‘incense’ shows that
more is implied.’ Alternatively, the passage in Daniel has been seen as an
example of the Hellenistic ‘Benefactor’ Cult in which altars were erected
and sacrifices made in honour of someone who had done a noble deed for
a person or a city not only after death, but even during his lifetime. Others
have suspected an ironic (even a humorous) note in the description of a
Babylonian potentate revering the exiled Jew and his God, prefiguring the
prophecy of the dream itself. Embarrassed by the contradiction of a human
being, a devout monotheistic Jew, being treated as a divinity, Jerome
himself and others since have supposed that the honours were offered to
the deity that Daniel represented, rather than to the man himself. Thus,
Hartman and Di Leila commented, ‘One cannot evade the difficulty by
supposing that the ‘worship’ (segid) was merely civic homage; the words
‘sacrifice’ (minḥāh) and ‘incense’ (nîḥōḥîn, literally, ‘pleasant–smelling
offerings’) are strictly religious terms, borrowed in fact from the Hebrew
ritual vocabulary—minḥāh and rêaḥ nîḥōaḥ.’ So, Daniel accepted
worship for his God. However, in more recent decades the view has been
gaining ground that the narratives in the first six chapters have a strong
Babylonian background. If Nebuchadnezzar’s action is seen in that
context, the difficulty it seems to present may disappear. The vocabulary
and material remains combined suggest a man might receive such
honour without any religious nuances. According to biblical Hebrew
texts, falling prostrate before someone was a gesture of respect that was
paid to a prophet, a king, and a benefactor (1 Kings 18:7; 2 Samuel 9:6;
Ruth 2:10) as well as to heavenly beings. In Aramaic fragments of the
Book of Giants and of the Book of Enoch the phrase also occurs in a
context of respect or fear for heavenly beings or spheres. The verb for
‘paid him honour’ is widely used with regard to deities, but it occurs in the
Aramaic papyrus of Ahiqar of the 5th century BC at Elephantine, where the
royal official, Ahiqar, relates, ‘I bowed and prostrated myself’ before king
Esarhaddon. It should be noted that the narrative part of Ahiqar is set in
the context of the Assyrian court and is written in a style of Aramaic which
is more ‘eastern’ than the language of the proverbs, which has a ‘western’
flavour. In the 5th century BC, the historian Herodotus reported that, when
Persians met in the streets, ‘when a man of inferior rank meets one of
superior rank, the inferior prostrates himself upon the ground and does
reverence to the other’ (1.134), while the adventurer Xenophon reported
that all prostrated themselves before the Persian pretender Cyrus (8.3.14).
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The rite did not imply that the king was considered a god. Frye,
discussing the status of the Persian kings, wrote ‘it would seem that for the
Achaemenids this did not signify the abject humility before a god, but
rather the sign of respect towards royalty, for the nobility a bow with the
kissing of one’s hands as depicted on reliefs at Persepolis, or with knee
bending, or even, in the case of supplications or requests, full prostration
on the ground, especially for menials. In neither case was god worship
intended.’ The ‘offering’ made to Daniel does not have an exclusively
religious connotation, for it can denote both a sacrifice in a cultic setting
and also, perhaps originally, a gift presented by an inferior to a superior
(Genesis 43:11). It occurs in Aramaic only in texts describing temple
offerings, associated with incense and sacrifice at Elephantine, with
animals and libations in Ezra 7:17, and with sacrifice in the Genesis
Apocryphon. In themselves, therefore, the ‘honour’ and the ‘offering’ do
not demand a cultic interpretation for Nebuchadnezzar’s action.
Nebuchadnezzar’s order that ‘an offering and incense be presented’ to
Daniel uses a verb that in biblical Hebrew commonly means ‘to pour a
libation,’ which Lacocque stressed implies a cultic purpose: ‘The terms
used are those of the sacerdotal vocabulary as, for example, in Leviticus
1–7. The verb properly signifies the pouring out of libations.’ The question
of the incense presented to him demands more attention for this last
honour has been a stumbling–stone to commentators, incense being
considered to belong to religious cult, burnt before a divine presence,
usually in the form of a statue. The word, which is found also in Ezra 6:10,
may be a loan from Hebrew in Aramaic, and all its other occurrences are
in cultic passages. However, the evidence of the lexicon does not stand
alone; other ancient material may expand it. There are two well–known
ancient sculptures which, it is submitted, illustrate Nebuchadnezzar’s The second scene is the reliefs from the Achaemenid palace at Persepolis
intention. The first is the well–known Assyrian relief of the mid–7th century which have long been believed to show Darius I enthroned with his crown
BC from the palace of Ashurbanipal in Nineveh, which represents a prince Xerxes beside him, although nowadays there is some debate over
victory celebration. The king reclines on a couch with his queen sitting the identity of the royal figures. Before the king stand two incense burners,
beside him, while in a tree hangs the head of the defeated rebel Elamite perfuming the air between him and those receiving an audience. Each is a
king Te–umman. As the king and queen drink, they are soothed by the tall stand, tapering upward from a flared base to a bowl set above down–
aroma arising from incense burners placed beside them, one at the head of curving leaf mouldings. The bowl is covered by a conical lid, stepped like
the king’s couch, one behind the queen’s throne. We may deduce that there a ziggurat, with arrow–shaped piercings to allow the smoke to escape. The
were others on the other side of the king and queen. The identification of shape of the burners is all but identical to examples in silver unearthed in
these objects is not in doubt, they share the same form as those used in the a Persian period tomb at Usak in Turkey. Those are 28 cm high, with
rituals already described, and it is likely they were made of gold. silver chains attaching the covers to the stands.

Very similar incense burners are depicted on Achaemenid seals. Somewhat
similar bronze incense burners have been found in tombs near Shechem
and in Jordan. The presence of incense burners in tombs indicates that
they were part of the normal furniture of people of importance in this life,
left to accompany them for use in the next life, like the other, clearly
secular utensils placed in those tombs. Olmstead deduced from the
Persepolis sculpture that ‘the use of frankincense before the king’s
presence is one more hint that in Persia the monarch was reverenced as
something more than human,’ assuming it was a divine prerogative, as in
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many Achaemenid seal designs which show incense burners in cultic
scenes. Olmstead’s use of the term ‘frankincense’ is unsupported. Now
neither in Assyria nor in Babylonia is there any indication that the king
was treated as divine or that individuals were deified in their lifetimes,
nor was it the case in Persia, as the citations given above make clear.
Such concepts would have been alien to the thought of those times.
Therefore, the extravagant honour Nebuchadnezzar paid to Daniel should
be treated as the natural reaction of a relieved and satisfied despot; in
reality it ‘might merely have meant the reversal of the homage a subject
was expected to pay to the king,’ as Porteous expressed it. Verse 48 makes
that clear: ‘Then the king gave Daniel high honours.’ His action should
not be interpreted as directed to Daniel’s deity, nor as offering Daniel
divine status, but as exalting him to a quasi–royal position, in the style
that would be recognized and which was not so very different from the
position Belshazzar offered and gave to him, on the night when Babylon
fell to the forces of Persia.”
Thus, having greatly esteemed Daniel, the king next turned to
acknowledge Daniel’s God: “your God is the God of gods, the Lord of
kings, and the Revealer of Secrets.” The Aramaic expression ʾĕlāh ʾĕlāhîn
[for “God of gods”] is a Semitic superlative expression equivalent to “the
greatest god of all.” Furthermore, Nebuchadnezzar acknowledges that he
is the “Lord of kings,” greater than all kings [himself included]. We must
understand that Nebuchadnezzar is not confessing a personal faith in
Daniel’s God alone. As a polytheist, he could say this. While this does
amount to an acknowledgment that Daniel’s God is supreme, it is not the
same as saying that he will worship only Daniel’s God. As a result,
Nebuchadnezzar remained in spiritual darkness. Thus, Nebuchadnezzar
needed to personally know Daniel’s God. Fortunately, Nebuchadnezzar’s
spiritual journey was not over with, and at least he had taken a step in the
right direction, because he is at a point where he begins to give serious
consideration to Israel’s God. Thus, Nebuchadnezzar is saying that
Daniel’s God is supreme over all other gods as well as human kings.
Lastly, Nebuchadnezzar mentions the matter that really captured his
attention, namely that Daniel’s God is “the Revealer of Secrets.” So, while
these acknowledgments are remarkable, his humility was temporary,
because he will soon misapply this lesson about Daniel’s God [later in
Daniel 3].

Next in v. 48, we read: “then the king promoted Daniel to a high position
and lavished many great gifts on him, including making him ruler over the
entire province of Babylon and chief administrator over the advisors.”
The king had promised wonderful rewards for the man who could state his
dream and correctly interpret it [recall v. 6]. Now he fulfils his word.
Daniel is elevated to a high position and given great gifts. Although he is
just a young man, he is even allowed to rule the entire province of
Babylon. Whatever his title might have been, it is astonishing that a Jew of
the captivity would rise to so prominent a political position. This must be
attributed to the sovereignty of God. Most likely this would have taken
place before the 2nd deportation of Jewish exiles in 597 b.c. and certainly
before the 3rd one following 586 b.c. God tempered his discipline on Judah
by actually putting a man of God in a high political position who could
bring God’s grace upon these exiles that entered the province of Babylon!
In addition to ruling the province of Babylon, Daniel was also elevated
over the other wise men of Babylon, that he was made raḇ–signîn [for
“chief administrator”]. The Aramaic signîn [for “administrator”] is
derived from Akkadian šaknu [or “prefect”]. Thus, Daniel’s authority over
the province of Babylon included authority over the wise men themselves!
Nevertheless, Daniel did not join with these wise men in their occultic
practices. Why should he? He did not need their tactics to be a good
counsellor to the king, but they were nonetheless under his authority.
Finally in v. 49, we read: “moreover, Daniel requested that the king
appoint Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego administrators over the
province of Babylon, while Daniel himself remained in the royal court.”
Daniel was no egotist, selfishly looking after his own skin. Daniel credited
Israel’s God for his ability to interpret the king’s dream [recall v. 28]. So,
now he thinks of his three friends, requesting the king to allow them to
help as administrators of the province he was to govern. The four of them
had gone through a lot together: they had all been taken as captives in 605
b.c., had braved the ~3 years of training together, faced the recent crisis
together, and had jointly sought God’s compassion in prayer. Daniel was
not about to be content with his own good fortune, but looked after their
interests as well. Apparently they lived away from the king’s palace, as
Daniel was at the royal court, being near and having access to the king.
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Wendy Widder [21st century biblical scholar] beautifully concludes:
“Stories of Joseph and Daniel bookend the life of God’s people in the land
of Israel: Joseph was in Egypt before Israel possessed the land, and
Daniel was in Babylon after they lost it. In both times and places, God
reached out to foreign kings through the murky means of revelatory
dreams. Longman suggests that God used dreams because it is in dreams
‘that the Babylonian religion and Daniel’s faith come closest, and perhaps
that is why God chose to speak to Nebuchadnezzar in this way rather than
through the birth of a multiheaded ox.’ Knowing that the collective
knowledge of the empires’ finest interpreters would prove inadequate, God
had already positioned his faithful servants to interpret and explain the
dreams. Through his lowly servants, God put the mighty foreign kings on
alert that they were dependent on him for their lives and for their
kingdoms. While God didn’t appear to have an earthly kingdom at the
time, he demonstrated his superiority over the kings (who found the
dreams inscrutable), all other gods (whose diviners were stymied), and the
future. This Yahweh may not have looked like much during the hey–day of
Egypt or Babylon, but in fact, he was Lord of all the earth, and he is a
Lord who does his work through the lowliest of people. This
incomparable God is the one Isaiah praised in his Book of Consolation
(Isaiah 40–66). In Daniel 2 the Babylonian wise men faced death because
their gods of silver and gold could not help them (Isaiah 40:19–20; 47:1–
7). But, Daniel’s God revealed hidden secrets to him so that he could
explain the future to the king (Isaiah 42:16; 44:7; 45:3). After
Nebuchadnezzar heard that human kingdoms would blow away like chaff,
the mighty king bowed before the servant of Yahweh (Isaiah 49:7, 23;
60:10–14). In its portrayal of the God of Israel, Daniel 2 corroborates
the message of hope in Isaiah. In Daniel 2 Nebuchadnezzar encountered
the God who outranked his gods in both wisdom and power. While we
often focus on the meaning of the king’s dream, the main point of the
chapter is that God is the source of true wisdom and power, and he grants
both to people for times and seasons that he determines. He alone is the
eternal king whose dominion will last forever. We are a people who think
we can do anything. Since at least the tower of Babel (Genesis 11:1–9), we
have believed in our collective ability to achieve whatever we put our
minds to. History bears good witness to the soundness of this belief. From
our speck of dust in the Milky Way, we have put a man on the moon, a
robot on Mars, and a spacecraft on the edge of interstellar space.

We have eradicated small pox, and every day we cure illnesses with an
array of chemical combinations. When we want to, we can move
mountains: it just takes some engineering ingenuity, a bottomless budget,
and a lot of people who need work. No faith required. The common
language of science and the cyber bond of the Internet have produced a
global community out to prove that nothing is impossible (Genesis 11:6).
But, at the foggy periphery of these visions of human grandeur lurks a
reality that we are prone to push away like an irritating alarm clock: not
all knowledge is within human reach. If Nebuchadnezzar had given his
wise men all the time in Babylon, they could not have solved the puzzle of
his dream and its meaning—with or without their gods’ help. The dream
came from God and only God knew what it meant. There is a world of
knowledge and wisdom that, apart from God’s revelation, is inaccessible
to people. No amount of corporate expertise, self–help psycho–babble, or
even scientific research can reveal these truths. For Daniel, this
knowledge was encoded into a revelatory dream about the future. For us,
it is more likely to be the knowledge of God encoded in the written word of
scripture. Christians have long recognized that God has revealed himself
generally through creation—truth that is accessible to all, and he has
revealed himself specially through the bible and through Jesus. This
revelation is only accessible to us through the testimony of the Spirit, who
convicts us of its truth and then helps us understand and live its counter–
intuitive, counter–cultural message. It says things like we must die to live
and lose to gain. We should rejoice in suffering and pray for those who
persecute us. In the words of 5th century bishop Theodoret of Cyrrhus,
such ‘divine mysteries’ lie beyond the capacity of human wisdom ‘without
assistance from above.’ And, just as he did with Daniel and Joseph, the
Spirit often gives ‘assistance from above’ through us. The things he has
taught us and is helping us to live, we can teach others. We cannot make
people understand or accept such truth—that task remains with the
Spirit—but we can speak and teach, befriend and blog, write or paint or
act, and we can pray that he will use our varied ways of communicating to
reach the minds and hearts of those who do not know his divine mysteries.
Daniel’s colleagues protested that the king had demanded the impossible.
He required of them something only ‘the gods’ could do. The theme of
impossibility begins in the bible when nonagenarian Sarah laughed at the
promise that she would have a baby (Genesis 18:12). The divine visitor
responded to her laughter with the question, ‘Is anything too hard for the
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Lord?’ Brueggemann observes how this open–ended question resurfaces
throughout the bible. The Israelites heard it when they faced formidable
foes, certain exile, and improbable restoration (Judges 13:17–25;
Jeremiah 32:17, 27). Mary heard it when Gabriel gave his jaw–dropping
news (Luke 1:37). The 1st century Jews and Gentiles heard it when they
encountered the God–man, Jesus (Matthew 19:26; Mark 9:23).
Brueggemann calls this ‘the fundamental question every human person
must answer.’ In fact, we must answer it more than once. We answer it
every time life throws us an impossible curve—in our families, friendships,
jobs, and churches. We answer it every time we turn off the news because
it is too overwhelming. Whenever we throw up our hands in despair or
laugh at suggestions to insurmountable problems, we answer the question.
But, when Daniel’s Babylonian colleagues said, ‘It can’t be done!’ Daniel
went home and prayed his way through the impossible with his friends.
He knew he could not do it—but he also knew all things are possible with
God. So he prayed. God does not do everything we ask, but there is much
he does not do because we do not ask (James 4:2). While national and
global concerns dominate every news source, most of us spend our time in
the middle of garden–variety concerns that (thankfully) never make the
headlines. We realize that politicians and power mongers make decisions
that affect us, but day in and day out, we deal with lesser rulers whose
actions affect us even more—our bosses, boards, and congregations.
Although the dream of Daniel 2 plays out on the grand stage of world
history, Daniel—like us—lived on a much smaller stage, where his life had
not gone quite the way he had planned. The machinations of the
Babylonian empire had destroyed whatever aspirations Daniel may have
had of royal or noble position in Jerusalem. Instead of using his gifts,
training, and natural abilities in the holy city, Daniel found himself far
away in the service of an idol–worshiping foreign king. Yet when we met
the young exile in chapter 1, he was resolving to live uprightly in Babylon,
to honour his God during feast or fast. God granted him favour in the eyes
of the officials (Daniel 1:9). Knowing Daniel, then, we are not surprised in
chapter 2 when he responds to the order of a crazed king with wisdom and
tact, and we are not really surprised that, when he asked the king for time,
he got it. The text does not explicitly say of Daniel that God was with him
or that he found favour in his masters’ eyes beyond the overseer of Daniel
1:9, but it repeatedly says this of his ancient predecessor, Joseph (Genesis
39:2, 3, 6). Without denying God’s intervention in Joseph’s life, I do not

think this favour was some kind of fairy dust that God sprinkled around
everyone who came near Joseph. If you read between the lines, you’ll find
a performance review for the Hebrew slave. Neither Potiphar nor the
prison guard handed over control of their domains to a sullen, disgruntled
employee. They promoted their most trusted and valued servant. In spite of
the way his life was turning out, Joseph worked hard and faithfully at jobs
that neither bolstered his resume nor maximized his potential. Given
Nebuchadnezzar’s response to Daniel’s request for time, we might assume
the same was true of the Judean exile. Some of us serve lesser rulers who
treat us well and make it a joy to work for them. Others of us don’t. But,
regardless of what the job is and who sits in the corner office, God is the
one in charge. He raises up bosses and takes them down. He assembles
boards and disbands them. He puts congregations together and dissolves
them. We often have little control over our work environment, but—like
Daniel and Joseph—we make choices every day about the way we serve
God’s appointed authorities. Nebuchadnezzar’s wise men wailed that the
gods do not dwell among men, so how could they be expected to do what
only gods could do and know what only gods could know? Daniel’s
success where they failed exposed the inferiority of the gods they served
and showed his God to be the true source of knowledge and wisdom. Later
in the book, Babylonian royalty will recognize Daniel’s unique
relationship with the divine realm: he was one in whom the ‘spirit of the
holy gods’ dwelled (Daniel 4:8–9, 18; 5:11). Thus, it is likely that Daniel’s
Jewish audience recognized the rule of Yahweh in the supernatural rock of
Nebuchadnezzar’s dream. Their expectations for his reign were grand: he
would smash their enemies, restore his people, and rule over the whole
earth with righteousness forever. Jerusalem would be the capital of the
world. A great day awaited! It is little wonder that centuries later few
people noticed the lowly birth of a baby to an even lowlier couple. It is not
surprising that they were slow to recognize that the kingdom of Yahweh
was at hand. They expected a Caesar–smashing messiah. They looked for
a Herod–halting warrior. What they saw instead was an itinerant teacher
with a group of earthy students. They heard stories about the kingdom of
God, but instead of crushing statues and filling the whole earth, this
kingdom grew like an itty–bitty mustard seed or like invisible yeast in a
loaf of bread (Matthew 13:31–33). Apparently, this kingdom was going to
work differently than they thought. The kingdom did break into world
history with the coming of Jesus, and by his death and resurrection he
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shattered the power of the reigning prince. Before he returned to heaven,
he announced to his disciples that all authority was his (Matthew 28:18):
his rule was underway. But, the earth–filling growth of the kingdom is a
painfully slow process of which we are a part until he comes again and
sets all things right. The kingdom is already here, but it has not yet been
fully realized. Many stumble on the supernatural stone because it is not
what they think it should be—and it crushes them (Luke 20:17–18). Others
put their faith in the supernatural stone, the living stone (1 Peter 2:4), the
cornerstone (Isaiah 28:16)—and become living stones in a spiritual
house that will one day fill the whole earth.”
Summing Up …
When we read Daniel 2, it is easy to get caught up in the details of the
vision and forget the vision’s main point, which is not the details of the
course of events in history, but the fact that history is under the control of
God and that it has a purpose, which will be achieved. For the early
readers, the four–kingdom scheme transforms a chaotic mass of events
involving subjugation and brutal oppression into a logical divinely
ordained sequence that would result in the redemptive transformation of
the world. As a schema, it helped persuade Jews that God had not
abandoned them, and that history was not an inexorable series of
meaningless brutalities. It can do the same for modern readers who
understand its purpose. Daniel 2 also intended to foster hope, because it
shows that God will triumph, bringing salvation and deliverance to all who
believe in his kingdom. Daniel kept God and his kingdom in mind at all
times. This focus guided his speech, for he presents God as the source of
all revealed knowledge [vv. 27–30]. Thus, many of today’s exiles,
refugees, and stable believers share these priorities. Ultimately, the
account conveyed then, and imparts now, the need for strength borne by
wisdom. God’s gift of wisdom guided Daniel’s speech, decisions, and
treatment of others. In other words, God’s gifts made him a good worker
in a hard place, one who never forgot that giving witness to God’s
character undergirds all responsibilities. Thus, discipline and hope are
inseparable. Those who neglect the former will not likely find the latter.
Only those who integrate discipline and hope have the patience to
persevere while God’s kingdom slowly rises to shatter the toes of the last
oppressive kingdom, bringing that human–made image crashing down!

THE FIERY FURNACE
Daniel 3
Opening Thought
1) What are your favourite miracle stories from the bible?
Background of the Passage
Daniel 3 is one of the best loved of all bible stories. It is the story known
simply as “the fiery furnace.” The facts are familiar to most. Despite
Nebuchadnezzar’s previous claim that Daniel’s God “is the God of gods”
and “the Lord of kings” [recall Daniel 2:47], he reverted to heinous
idolatry, setting up a giant golden image and demanding that his subjects
worship it alone. When it was reported that Shadrach, Meshach, and
Abednego, that is, the Hebrew captives Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah
[recall Daniel 1:6–7; 2:17] were violating the new royal decree,
Nebuchadnezzar became outraged and summoned them at once. They
were given a final chance to obey the idolatrous edict. However, when the
young Jewish men steadfastly refused to comply, it was ordered that they
be thrown “into the middle of the blazing fire” [v. 15]. Ironically, the great
heat of the furnace killed the executioners, but not the faithful Hebrews.
God miraculously delivered them, prompting Nebuchadnezzar to once
again note the uniqueness and supremacy of Israel’s God.
Bible Passage
Read Daniel 3
Dedicating the Image to Nebuchadnezzar
1
Some time later, King Nebuchadnezzar built a golden statue, making
it 60 cubits high and 6 cubits wide. He set it up in the Dura Valley within
the province of Babylon. 2Then King Nebuchadnezzar summoned the
regional authorities, governors, deputy governors, advisors, treasurers,
judges, magistrates, and all of the other administrators of the provinces,
ordering them to come to the dedication of the statue that he had erected.
3
So the regional authorities, governors, deputy governors, advisors,
treasurers, judges, magistrates, and all of the other administrators of the
provinces assembled to dedicate the statue that he had erected.
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They took their places in front of the statue that he had erected. 4Then
a herald proclaimed aloud: “People of all nations, and languages, are
commanded: 5Whenever you hear the sound of the trumpet, the flute, the
lyre, the four–stringed lyre, and the harp, playing together along with
various instruments, you are to fall down and worship the golden statue
that was set up by King Nebuchadnezzar. 6Anyone who does not fall down
and worship is immediately to be thrown into the blazing fire furnace.”
7
Therefore, when all of the people “heard the sound of the trumpet, the
flute, the lyre, the four–stringed lyre, and the harp, playing together along
with various other instruments,” all the “people, nations, and languages”
began to fall down and worship the golden statue that King
Nebuchadnezzar had set up.
Daniel’s Friends are Accused
8
Just then, certain influential Chaldeans took this opportunity to come
forward and denounce the Jews. 9They told King Nebuchadnezzar, “Your
majesty, live forever. 10You, your majesty, issued this decree: ‘Every man
who hears the sound of the trumpet, the flute, the lyre, the four–stringed
lyre, and the harp, playing together along with various other instruments is
to fall down and worship the golden statue. 11Whoever does not fall down
and worship is to be thrown into a blazing fire furnace.’ 12Certain
influential Jewish men whom you appointed to manage the city of
Babylon—Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego—have neither paid
attention to you, your majesty, nor served your gods. And they won’t
worship the golden statue that you set up.”
The Threat of the Fire Furnace
13
Nebuchadnezzar flew into a rage and furiously ordered that
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego be brought before him.
14
Nebuchadnezzar asked them, “Is it true, Shadrach, Meshach, and
Abednego, that you don’t worship my gods and that you don’t worship the
golden statue that has been set up? 15Now, if you are ready at this very
moment to obey ‘the sound of the trumpet, the flute, the lyre, the four–
stringed lyre, and the harp,’ and worship the image that I have made, if
you do not so worship, you will immediately have cast yourselves into the
middle of the blazing fire, and what god is there who can deliver you from
my power?”

Daniel’s Friends Answer King Nebuchadnezzar
16
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego answered King Nebuchadnezzar,
“It’s not necessary for us to respond in this matter. 17Your majesty, if it be
his will, our God whom we serve can deliver us from the blazing fire
furnace, and he will deliver us from you. 18But if not, rest assured, your
majesty, that we won’t serve your gods, and we won’t worship the golden
statue that you have set up.”
The King Orders an Execution
19
Out of control with rage, Nebuchadnezzar’s facial expression
changed toward Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, and he ordered that
the furnace be heated seven times hotter than usual. 20Then he issued
orders to his elite guard to bind Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego with
ropes and throw them into the blazing fire furnace. 21So the elite guard tied
them up fully clothed, still wearing their robes, tunics, and turbans, and
threw them into the blazing fire furnace, 22because the king’s command
was so drastic. Since the furnace was blazing hot, its flames killed those
who threw Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego into the blazing fire.
23
Bound firmly with ropes, these three men Shadrach, Meshach, and
Abednego fell into the blazing fire furnace.
The Fourth Man in the Furnace
24
Astonished, King Nebuchadnezzar stood up in terror, and asked his
advisors, “Didn’t we throw three men into the fire, bound firmly with
ropes?” In reply they told the king, “Yes, your majesty.” 25“Look!” he told
them, “I see four men walking untied and unharmed in the middle of the
fire, and the appearance of the fourth resembles a divine being.” 26Then
Nebuchadnezzar approached the opening of the blazing fire furnace. He
shouted out, “Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, servants of the Most
High God, come out and come here!” So Shadrach, Meshach, and
Abednego came out of the fire. 27The regional authorities, viceroys,
governors, and royal advisors gazed at those men and saw that the fire had
no effect on their bodies—not a hair on their head was singed, their clothes
were not burned, and they did not smell of fire. 28Nebuchadnezzar spoke
up and announced: “Blessed be the God of Shadrach, Meshach and
Abednego! He sent his angel to deliver his servants who trusted in him.
They disobeyed the king’s command and were willing to risk their lives in
order not to serve or worship any god except their own God.
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29
So I decree that people from any nation or language who say
anything against the God of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego will be
destroyed and their house reduced to rubble, because there is no other god
who can save like this.” 30Then the king promoted Shadrach, Meshach, and
Abednego within the province of Babylon.
Understanding the Text
2) What was Nebuchadnezzar’s decree about the golden statue? (3:1–7)
Starting with v. 1, we read: “Some time later, King Nebuchadnezzar built
a golden statue, making it 60 cubits high and 6 cubits wide. He set it up in
the Dura Valley within the province of Babylon.”
This chapter begins in the middle of Nebuchadnezzar’s journey to faith in
Israel’s God [Daniel 2–4]. However, critical scholars see the purpose of
this chapter [supposedly written in Hellenistic times] not as a faithful
historical record, but as a court tale to encourage those suffering under the
persecutions of Antiochus IV Epiphanes [2nd century b.c. Seleucid king].
This is because there is supposedly no mention of a specific time when this
event occurred in Nebuchadnezzar’s reign. However, the LXX does
provide additional information: “In the 18th year of King Nebuchadnezzar,
when he was governing cities and territories and even all the inhabitants
on the earth, from India to Ethiopia, he constructed a golden image.”
Thus, the LXX translators wanted to indicate that these events occurred at
the time of the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple [August 586 b.c.].
But, critical scholars respond that the destruction took place in
Nebuchadnezzar’s 19th year [2 Kings 25:8; Jeremiah 52:12]. However,
they ignore the fact that this ~1 year difference was based on how the
years were reckoned [whether it was accession years or regnal years].
Furthermore, admittedly there are no Hebrew/Aramaic manuscripts that
include this chronological notice [in the LXX], which means there is no
compelling reason to believe that these events would have occurred in
conjunction with Jerusalem’s destruction. Nevertheless, recent scholarship
has persuasively built a case that this scene occurred in either December
594 b.c. or January 593 b.c., not August 586 b.c., because Nebuchadnezzar
would not have built this statue to commemorate Jerusalem’s destruction.

Andrew Steinmann [21st century biblical scholar] extensively explains:
“Daniel 3 contains no chronological notice for the setting of the events it
relates. Both the Old Greek and Theodotion prefix ‘18th year’ to the start
of v. 1 to indicate that the convocation took place in Nebuchadnezzar’s
18th year. However, these words probably are a secondary addition based
on Jeremiah 52:29. So, a careful investigation into Jeremiah and into the
surviving chronicles of Nebuchadnezzar’s reign suggests a date of late
December 594 BC or January 593 BC for the convocation to dedicate the
golden statue. The specific chronicle is preserved on tablet BM 21946. The
identification of the chronological sequence that includes the convocation
was first proposed by Shea, but more controversial and much less certain
is Shea’s identification of three officials of Nebuchadnezzar listed on a
clay prism as Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. The Babylonian
Chronicle states that a rebellion took place in Babylon from the month of
Kislev (December 15, 595 to January 12, 594) to the month of Tebeth
(January 13 to February 11, 594) in the 10th year of Nebuchadnezzar’s
reign. Nebuchadnezzar suppressed the rebellion and also purged his army
of those he suspected of supporting the uprising. At the end of that year
(the Babylonian year ended on April 11, 594), Nebuchadnezzar made a
trip to his western provinces to collect tribute from his vassals. This trip
was probably to enforce his authority in light of the rebellion that he
recently suppressed. Moreover, he returned to those western provinces
with his army in the month of Kislev the next year (December 4, 594 to
January 1, 593). Early in Zedekiah’s 4th year as king of Judah (which
corresponds to the last 6 months of Nebuchadnezzar’s 11th year and the
first 6 months of his 12th year), Zedekiah made a trip to Babylon (Jeremiah
51:59–64), because official years of Judean kings were reckoned as
beginning in the fall with the beginning of the month of Tishri. Thus,
Zedekiah’s 4th year began on 1 Tishri 594 (October 6, 594), or 6 months
after the beginning of Nebuchadnezzar’s 11th year on 1 Nisan 594 (April
12, 594). Thus, Zedekiah’s trip most likely took place upon the return of
Nebuchadnezzar to Babylon, perhaps in late Kislev 594 (late December
594) or more likely in Tebeth 593 (January 593). Zedekiah probably was
asked to make this trip to profess his loyalty to Nebuchadnezzar. However,
it appears to have had the opposite effect, since later that year, before the
end of month of Shebat (February 1 to March 1, 593), Zedekiah, having
returned to Jerusalem, plotted with emissaries from Edom, Moab, Ammon,
Tyre, and Sidon to rebel against Nebuchadnezzar, even though Jeremiah
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advised against this rebellion (Jeremiah 27:1–22). In fact, Jeremiah 28:1
dates the false prophet Hananiah’s prophecy to the 5th month (Shebat) of
the same year as the events recorded in Jeremiah 27. This sequence of
events would yield a date of late December 594 or January 593 for
Zedekiah’s trip to Babylon and his return. The convocation in Daniel 3
is a likely setting for the destination of Zedekiah’s trip, since the trip
probably was for the purpose of ensuring his loyalty to Nebuchadnezzar.
Zedekiah would have been one of a number of vassals who were brought
to Babylon to demonstrate their loyalty to Nebuchadnezzar by worshiping
the huge statue he erected. Most scholars believe that the presupposition
in the narrative of Daniel 3 is that willingness to bow down to the golden
image was equated with loyalty to Nebuchadnezzar. Watts summarizes:
‘The great golden statue they were asked to worship is not named. It could
have been one of Marduk, Bel, or Nebo. Whatever its name, it represented
Babylon and her king. To worship it meant total and absolute commitment
to the imperial government and to the system it represented.
Nebuchadnezzar’s motivation for setting up the idol was clearly political.
The three Judean men were accused of neither serving Nebuchadnezzar’s
gods nor bowing to the image. The implication was that they were
politically unreliable.’ Thus, Zedekiah’s trip to Babylon in late December
594 or January 593 furnishes a possible date for the convocation for the
dedication of Nebuchadnezzar’s golden statue. Since twice we are told
that ‘all the rulers of the provinces’ came for the dedication, we should
infer that it was a carefully designed ceremony to ensure the loyalty of
officials outside of Babylon, as suggested by comparison to events
recorded in the Babylonian Chronicle. Nebuchadnezzar had already
purged his court of those suspected of treason, and he wanted to make sure
no disloyal subjects were to be found among his distant subordinates.”
Date Chronological Summary of Statue Dedication
December 595 to
Nebuchadnezzar suppresses a revolt in Babylon
January 594
March–April 594 Nebuchadnezzar collects tribute from vassals
December 594 Nebuchadnezzar’s army marches west
Late December 594
Zedekiah travels to Babylon [Jeremiah 51:59–64]
or
for the dedication of the golden image [Daniel 3]
Early January 593

Also, strangely there is nothing said about Daniel himself, but only his
friends, and scholars have provided numerous suggestions to explain this.
Zvi Ron [21st century Orthodox Jewish scholar] provides the best solution:
“Chapter 3 is unique in its being the only chapter in which Daniel is not
mentioned at all. In the rest of the book, Daniel is clearly the protagonist
and center of attention. His absence from this chapter is jarring and led to
rabbinic speculation as to where Daniel was at the time (Sanhedrin 93a).
The absence of the protagonist also parallels Genesis 38. The parallels
between the Daniel and Joseph narratives have long been noted and
studied: both tell the story of an Israelite taken into captivity in a foreign
land who rises to power through his ability to interpret the foreign king’s
dreams. The Joseph narrative is interrupted by the story of Judah and
Tamar in Genesis 38, a chapter where Joseph is not mentioned at all, just
as the story of Daniel is interrupted by that of Hananiah, Mishael, and
Azariah, where Daniel is not mentioned. Both interruptions focus on
characters secondary to the main narrative and describe a rescue from a
fiery death. There are, of course, differences between the narratives:
Tamar is saved by Judah's intervention, whereas the three youths are
saved by a miracle—yet both chapters digress from the main storyline
and tell of salvation from a fiery death. We can now understand that the
story of Daniel not only emphasizes plot elements and utilizes phrases that
evoke the story of Joseph, but even has a literary structure that parallels
the form of the Joseph story. In view of the fact that Daniel is not
mentioned in chapter 3, contemporary bible critics regard that chapter as
an independent story that originally had no connection with the Daniel
cycle of stories. However, it is precisely the absence of Daniel that makes
this chapter fit organically within the structure of Daniel’s book as a
parallel to the Joseph narrative. Once this parallel is noted, we can see
that Judah and Nebuchadnezzar both follow a similar trajectory of
character development. They both condemn righteous individuals to death
by fire on the basis of their proclamations (Genesis 38:24; Daniel 3:6) and
later admit their error (Genesis 38:26; Daniel 3:28–29). There is a
parallel between the victims in both narratives—Tamar in the one and
Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah in the other. The righteous victims in
both cases accept their fate, yet make a declaration to the person who
condemned them expressing their righteousness (Genesis 38:25, Daniel
3:17–18). In both cases the righteous are saved and unharmed, and they
100
receive some kind of reward: the birth of twins to Tamar (Genesis 38:27–
30) and promotion for Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah (Daniel 3:30).
Rabbinic literature views the protagonist’s absence in both of these
chapters as serving the same purpose—to allow secondary characters to
come into their own. The Midrash teaches that Judah demonstrated his
leadership qualities by publicly admitting that he was wrong about Tamar
(Genesis 38:26; Exodus Rabbah 30.16, Mekhilta, Beshallaḥ, Va–yehi 5).
Similarly, the Talmud explains that God manipulated events so that
Daniel would be out of the country during the fiery furnace episode in
order to focus on Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah, thus showing that
they inherited a miraculous deliverance even without the help of Daniel
(Sanhedrin 93a). Much like the three men in Daniel 3, Tamar disappears
after her role in Genesis 38, but in rabbinic literature she is recalled as a
mother of ‘kings and prophets’ (Nazir 23b, Megillah 10b), her son Perez
being the Davidic line’s progenitor. Tamar does not appear as a character
in any further biblical narratives; however, she is recalled as the mother
of Perez in Ruth 4:12. Genesis 38 contains many allusions to places within
the future territory of the tribe of Judah (Adullam, Timnah, Enaim), and to
people who play a role in the life of King David, (Tamar and Bat–
Shua/Bathsheba). These associations place the Judah–Tamar episode in a
wider context, that of the Davidic monarchy. This chapter is understood by
bible scholars to foreshadow Judah’s future leadership role, not only as an
individual, but as the tribe from which King David will emerge. Rabbinic
tradition likewise assigns a key role to Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah in
this same context. Whatever happened to the three righteous men? The
sages tell us that they moved back to the Land of Israel, married there
and had children (Sanhedrin 93a). They are identified with the men who
are a symbol (Zechariah 3:8), those who, along with Joshua the High
Priest, are told by an angel that the rebuilding of the Temple will soon be
complete. The angel foretells the coming of ‘my servant, the Branch’
(Zechariah 3:9–10). That phrase recalls the glorious era of King Solomon
(1 Kings 5:5) as well as the messianic future (Micah 4:4). The miracle
that they experienced is a sign of more miracles to come; on a mass
scale. Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah, descendants of Judah, are thus
considered in rabbinic literature to have played a role in heralding the
reestablishment of Davidic leadership, continuing what Tamar had
begun. Recognizing these parallels, the rabbis cast these individuals in
both narratives as significant figures of the future Davidic monarchy.”

So, the king had seen a huge statue in his dream that was made of various
metals [starting with the head being made of gold]. Now we see him
ordering a statue to be made all of gold. The Aramaic term ṣᵊlēm [for
“statue”] is the same, and we can presume that the statue the king had seen
in his dream became the inspiration for the statue of gold that he made.
Thus, his dream of the huge statue was intended to communicate that God
would ultimately judge and destroy the idol–worshiping empires.
However, the interpretation of the dream by Daniel had revealed
Nebuchadnezzar in a rather exalted manner. He was the head of gold and
the king of kings, and the empires that followed would be inferior to his.
Nebuchadnezzar appears to have let his honoured status go to his head, his
pride prompting him to glorify himself. In doing so, he was distorting the
message that God had intended. Based on the dream of the statue,
Nebuchadnezzar decided to make a statue for his subjects to bow down to
and pay homage to. That he made it all of gold suggests that this was an
egotistical attempt to glorify himself, whereby he took his God–given
authority and turned to exalting himself, thereby insulting God who had
given him authority and who was to ultimately establish his own kingdom,
and intended for the statue to serve as an idol to a Babylonian deity.
Gleason Archer [20th century biblical scholar] says: “Despite Yahweh’s
warning through the dream and interpretation that he would judge and
destroy the idol–worshiping empires, Nebuchadnezzar forgot his new
religious insights and proceeded to force on all his subjects—even the
Yahweh–worshiping Jews—the worship of the patron god of the Chaldean
government. This not only indicates the superficial nature of his earlier
confession of Yahweh as ‘God of gods and Lord of kings’ (Daniel 2:47),
but it also suggests an egotism tending toward megalomania. Yet we
cannot be certain why he took this extraordinary step. He may have felt,
like many pagans, that multiple loyalties were permissible in worshiping
the gods. He may have seen no more conflict between worshiping several
different deities than between serving a local government and the central
government. In any event, he laid down no requirement for his subjects to
renounce or to cease private worship of their own personal gods; he
simply demanded complete loyalty to the state, as represented by this
public ceremony of prostration before his patron god (presumably Nabu).
Failure to do this would not only amount to impiety and irreligion, it
would also be treason. Thus, Nebuchadnezzar had the statue made of gold
101
(covered with gold leaf). Actually, there was not enough gold in all
Babylonia to make a statue so large of solid gold. The erecting of the
golden image undoubtedly reflected the symbolism of the dream–image in
which the head of gold represented Babylonia. Perhaps Nebuchadnezzar
was motivated by a desire to fulfil the type. As to whom the statue
represented, it seems doubtful that it was the king himself (as some have
suggested). We have no evidence that statues of a Mesopotamian ruler
were ever worshiped as divine during the ruler’s lifetime. Such practices
may have been followed in the Egypt of Ramses II (though we have no
decisive proof of this) but hardly in the Sumerian, Babylonian, or Assyrian
empires. It is far more likely that the statue represented
Nebuchadnezzar’s patron god, Nabu. Prostration before Nabu would
amount to a pledge of allegiance to his viceroy, Nabu–kudurri–uṣur.”
Thus, the requirement to do homage before
the statue represented a loyalty check for the
king’s subjects [if he felt any threats against
his rule]. Regarding the composition of this
“golden statue,” it was not made out of solid
gold, but was gold–plated [Isaiah 40:19;
Jeremiah 10:4]. For example, the altar was
called “the bronze altar” [Exodus 38:30],
but we know that it was overlaid with
bronze [Exodus 27:1–2]. Thus, wood/stone
would be under the overlaid gold.
Furthermore, we do not know what the
statue looked like. Was it a representation of
Nebuchadnezzar? Was it a representation of
a Babylonian deity? Nevertheless, what we
are told is that its size was “60 cubits high
and 6 cubits wide” or ~27.4 m high and
~2.74 m wide if we used base–10 [decimal
system]. These dimensional proportions are
obviously quite bizarre and distorted, which
indicates that its height represented an
obelisk shape as a base on which the statue
stood. For example, on the left is a figure on
top of a high pedestal stele from 530 b.c.

Choon–Leong Seow [21st century ancient Near Eastern scholar] says:
“These dimensions suggest an extraordinarily lanky edifice that is more
like an obelisk than a well–proportioned statue. This odd shape has
prompted some scholars to suggest that the edifice was not a statue per se,
but either a monolith that was sculpted only at the top, or a tall pedestal
with a statue mounted on it. Striking parallels to both models exist
throughout the ancient Near East, as scholars have frequently noted.”
John Goldingay [21st century biblical scholar] also says: “Setting up
statues is a familiar feature of the Babylonian, Persian, and Greek
Empires. This statue stands higher than most, though not than the Rhodes
Colossus (70 cubits). Perhaps it included a pedestal like statues that are
said to have been located at one of the various Babylonian sites called in
Akkadian Dura/Duru/Dur (‘fortification’). This would also account for the
statue’s odd proportions; compare also inscribed steles with figures at the
top. But, to reduce the statue to something normal is to miss the point
that the statue is extraordinary and monumental, even grotesque. Maybe
the fact that 60 cubits was the height of the 2nd Temple (Ezra 6:3) implies
that it is pretentious and begins to hint at its blasphemous nature. On the
other hand, the repetition of the figure ‘6’ suggests something symbolizing
imperfection, even something horrendous (Revelation 13:18). Gold may
imply gold plating rather than solid gold (Isaiah 40:19), though
Herodotus describes a Bel statue made of 800 talents (22 tons) of gold
(Histories 1.183). The gold also recalls the gold of Solomon’s Temple; the
Babylonians had to bring all the gold that had been plundered from
Jerusalem to make its base so that it would not fall over. The statue may
have represented Nebuchadnezzar himself. Assyrian kings set up such
statues as symbols of their dominion, and Hellenistic monarchs were
deified. The association of bowing down before the statue with serving
Nebuchadnezzar’s gods (vv. 12, 14) rather suggests a statue of a divinity,
presumably Bel. But, the text’s omitting to clarify what the statue
represented reflects its concern with the challenge it issued to the three
Judahites and reflects the interwovenness and support of god, king, and
nation. Further, even if it was Nebuchadnezzar’s statue, falling prostrate
before it would imply acknowledging his god, as Nebuchadnezzar’s
falling prostrate before Daniel implied acknowledgment of Daniel’s God
(Daniel 2:46). Conversely, even if it is a statue of a god, it is a kind of
idol of Nebuchadnezzar himself, an extension of his will.”
102
Patrick Mazani [21st century ancient Near Eastern scholar] concludes:
“Archaeology has discovered several golden images that can be
considered in view of Nebuchadnezzar’s gigantic image set up in the plain
of Dura. The worship of Nebuchadnezzar’s great image has been
suggested to have taken place in 594/593 BC. At the specified musical
signal, all people, without exception, were supposed to worship the golden
image (Daniel 3:5–6). The image might have been that of Nebuchadnezzar
so that all his subjects would bow and swear loyalty when he was away. In
the Wadi–Brisa Inscription, Nebuchadnezzar talks about the statue he
had made with an inscription that mentioned his name. The statue was
erected for his personal posterity so that the future kings would respect
his name and also worship the gods. Whether or not it was all gold is
difficult to ascertain. Collins is of the opinion that the image was overlaid
with gold. Several gold face–masks have been recovered from the ancient
Near East, including, for example, BM 139535, BM 123894, and BM
123895. Several golden statues have been recovered. From Susa, a golden
statue of a man carrying a baby goat, dated about the 12th century BC,
was recovered from a pavement of a ruined tomb near the temple of
Inshushinak of the Acropolis. A golden figure of a Persian king in a long
robe was discovered at Takht–I Kuwad on the northern bank of the Oxus
river. Herodotus reported on the golden image of Zeus sitting at a golden
table with golden footstool and chair, everything weighing 800 talents of
gold. He further reported on the golden statue of solid gold 12 cubits high
which was there during the time of Cyrus. It is possible that Nechadnezzar
may have erected a golden statue with most of the gold coming either
from the booty or tribute of the nations he conquered.”
Also, the location of the statue is said to be “in the Dura Valley within the
province of Babylon.” The Aramaic dûrāʾ could be a place–name, or it
could indicate the type of place in which it was erected. In other words, the
Babylonian term dûru [or “wall”] either refers to an enclosed fortress, or a
terrain that is enclosed by mountains. The LXX translators were divided:
1. LXXθ transliterated dûrāʾ as Deira [a place–name].
2. LXXΟ translated dûrāʾ as peribolou [or “encircling”].
Thus, since the Aramaic mᵊḏînaṯ [for “province”] can also mean “city,”
then it can be rendered: “in the plain of the wall in the city of Babylon.”

So, this was probably the defensive wall called Nimit–Enlil, the famous
outer wall of Babylon described by Herodotus [Histories 1.178–181],
which was near the Processional Way between Marduk’s Esagila temple
and the Akitu temple [to the north of the city] that was outside the outer
wall [within the vicinity of the greater outer fortification wall and moat].
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Edward Morgan Cook [21st century 2nd Temple scholar] summarizes:
“This wall spoken of would be Nimit–Enlil, the great outer wall of Babylon
built by Nebuchadnezzar, famous in antiquity and described in detail by
Herodotus (1.178–182). The purpose of this immense outer rampart was to
allow wartime fugitives from the surrounding area to take shelter; hence,
it is unlikely that the area between Imgur–Enlil, the inner wall, and
Nimit–Enlil was much built up. Thus, this prominent feature of ancient
Babylon forms part of the local colour of the narrative of Daniel; the
author wishes us to imagine representatives of ‘all peoples, nations, and
tongues’ (Daniel 3:4) gathered to worship the golden image in the plain
between the outer wall—the wall par excellence—and the city proper.”
Next in vv. 2–3, we read: “then King Nebuchadnezzar summoned the
regional authorities, governors, deputy governors, advisors, treasurers,
judges, magistrates, and all of the other administrators of the provinces,
ordering them to come to the dedication of the statue that he had erected.
So the regional authorities, governors, deputy governors, advisors,
treasurers, judges, magistrates, and all of the other administrators of the
provinces assembled to dedicate the statue that King Nebuchadnezzar had
erected. They took their places in front of the statue that he had erected.”
Nebuchadnezzar decided to have an elaborate dedication ceremony for his
new statue, during which the important officials of his realm would be in
attendance. This long list indicates that every provincial official of any
importance was present. The exact distinctions between these officials are
uncertain, though judging from the syntax it may go from a group of more
important officials to a group of less important officials. Thus, since
several of these terms are Persian in origin, this means Daniel’s book was
written by a 6th century author living at a time when these Persian words
were commonly used, dating the final form of this biographical section
[Daniel 1–6] to the Persian period. Thus, the following officials were:
1. The Aramaic ʾăḥašdarpᵊnayyāʾ [for “regional authorities”],
derived from Old Persian xšaθrapāvan [or “protector of the
empire”], and is also found in Neo–Babylonian cuneiform as
aḫšadrapannu. They were powerful officials who ruled over large
areas. During the reign of Darius I, there were only 20 “regional
authorities” ruling the empire [Herodotus, Histories 3.89–94].

2. The Aramaic signayyāʾ [for “governors”], a loanword from Neo–
Babylonian Akkadian sagānu which was often used of provincial
governors [its Hebrew cognate means “official state functionary”].
Daniel was made a raḇ–signîn [or “chief administrator”] over the
wise men of Babylon [recall Daniel 2:48].
3. The Aramaic paḥăwāṯāʾ [for “deputy governors”], a Neo–Assyrian
and Neo–Babylonian Akkadian loanword shortened from bēl pīḫati
[or “lord of an administrative district”], or a pīḫatu [or “minor
provincial official”]. These were probably the administrators over
smaller regional districts. In the postexilic period, the area of Judah
was ruled by a peḥāh [Malachi 1:8].
4. The Aramaic ʾăḏargāzᵊrayyāʾ [for “advisors”], related to Old
Persian handarža [or “advice”], a counsellor in the king’s court.
5. The Aramaic gᵊḏāḇᵊrayyāʾ [for “treasurers”], a loanword from Old
Persian ganzabara, one who is a supervisor of the treasury.
6. The Aramaic dᵊṯāḇᵊrayyāʾ [for “judges”], a loanword from Persian
dātabara [or “lawyer”], one who is a law official.
7. The Aramaic tiptāyēʾ [for “magistrates”], derived from Persian
tāyupātā [or “rulers of the cities”], which were regional mayors.
Notice that this list does not include the palace advisors, which explains
Daniel’s absence [recall Daniel 2:49]. Furthermore, there is a literary
comedic function in which the list repeats in order to belittle the mindless
actions of the Babylonians in contrast to the mindset of the Hebrew men.
Hector Avalos [21st century ancient Near Eastern scholar] says: “The
lengthy list is not meant simply to provide the reader with an accurate
descriptive analysis. The lengthy list emphasizes the mindlessness of the
entire Chaldean bureaucracy. Indeed, the list seems careful not to omit the
most minor official. The four mechanical iterations of a lengthy list of
musical instruments mirror the mechanistic behaviour of the pagans
before the image. Indeed, as soon as the instruments sound, the pagans
genuflect en masse before a lifeless image without a second thought.”
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Theodoret [5th century Bishop of Cyr] says: “Our Lord is good and loves
humankind, so the creator and ruler desires ‘all to be saved and to know
the truth’ [1 Timothy 2:4] and ‘does not seek the death of the wicked but
that they should turn and live’ [Ezekiel 18:23, 32]. Indeed, for that reason
he died for our salvation. So truly the king acts like a fool; being enslaved
to arrogance, he derives no benefit from the divine remedy, but like the
one who lives with illness, he rejects the cure from those who practice
medicine. Thus, the awful disease tends to grow day by day. Such a man is
this boastful king, who the God of all bestowed on him kindness without
bounds, applying the cure for countless transgressions and acts of impiety.
So also God revealed that the bringing of peace is fragile and passing, as
he held aloft the ones made captive by war and who bore by compulsion
the yoke of slavery. They shined splendidly and steadfastly and were
admired for the wisdom of their prophecy. The God of all was indeed
confessed to be the true God. But, after a short time, the king came back
into his true nature, just ‘as a dog returns to his vomit’ [Proverbs 26:11].”
Jerome [4th century] also says: “It is the higher ranks that stand in the
greater peril, and those who occupy the loftier position are the more
sudden in their fall. The princes are assembled to worship the statue in
order that through their princes the nations also might be attracted to
error. For those who possess riches and power are all the more easily
overthrown because of their apprehension of being bereft of them. But,
after the magistrates are led astray, the subject populace perishes through
the evil example of their superiors.”
Chrysostom [4th century Bishop of Constantinople] concludes: “The enemy
prepares the theatre, and the king himself collects the spectators and
prepares the lists; a theatre too, not of chance persons or of some private
individuals, but of all those who were honourable and in authority, so that
their testimony may be worthy of credit with the multitude. They had come
summoned for one thing; but they all departed having beheld another
thing. They came in order to worship the image; and they departed,
having derided the image and struck with wonder at the power of God
through the signs that had taken place with respect to these young men.”
Next in vv. 4–6, we read: “then a herald proclaimed aloud: ‘People of all
nations, and languages are commanded: Whenever you hear the sound of

the trumpet, the flute, the lyre, the four–stringed lyre, and the harp,
playing together along with various instruments, you are to fall down and
worship the golden statue that was set up by King Nebuchadnezzar.
Anyone who does not fall down and worship is immediately to be thrown
into the blazing fire furnace.’”
Once the royal officials were all assembled, the kārôz [for “herald”],
loudly proclaimed the king’s command that everyone was to obey upon
hearing the music. The Aramaic kārôz is a loanword from Old Persian, and
the LXX transliterated it by the Greek word kērux, which argues for an
early date for Daniel’s book. In other words, if the material was written in
the later Hellenistic period [when Attic Greek was in vogue], then we
would expect the author to have spelled the words in accordance with the
phonological characteristics of Attic Greek, but this is not the case! As was
the case with Akkadian loanwords, it is not surprising to find Greek words
in Daniel’s book, and this is no indication for a late date of the book.
Benjamin Noonan [21st century biblical scholar] says: “The vocalization of
biblical Aramaic kārôz indicates that it is a loan from Aeolic or Doric
Greek kārux rather than Attic–Ionic kērux. Original ā is preserved in all
Greek dialects with the exception of Attic–Ionic, in which it becomes ē.
Thus, at least three of the Greek loanwords in Daniel’s book exhibit
phonological characteristics that set them apart as non–Attic. This is
strong evidence for a date of borrowing before Alexander the Great
because Aramaic speakers should have borrowed the Attic forms if they
had adopted them during the Hellenistic period. Hence, the evidence
indicates that the Greek loanwords were borrowed earlier rather than
later, and the burden of proof remains on those who argue that they are
insignificant for dating purposes or must have been borrowed late.”
Bruce Waltke [21st century biblical scholar] concludes: “One can no
longer echo the dictum that the three Greek words in Daniel 3 demand a
date after 330 B.C. Greek words are now attested in the Aramaic
documents of Elephantine dated to the 5th century B.C.”
So, the sound of musical instruments was the signal to bow before the
image. Three of the instruments are of Greek derivation, probably import
items that kept their original names. So, here is the list of instruments:
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1. The Aramaic qeren [for “trumpet”]. In the LXX, this is translated
as salpigx [or “horn”], from an animal’s horn [Joshua 6:4–6],
which was hollowed out and used as wind instruments.
2. The Aramaic mašrôqî [for “flute”]. This refers to some type of pipe
instrument, which might be comparable to the modern flute. The
term comes from the root sᵊraq [meaning “to play a pipe,”
“whistle,” or “hiss”]. In the LXX, this is translated as surigx [or
“pipe”], a cylinder tube that was made either out of wood, reed, or
bone, and produced a coarse shrill whistling sound.
3. The Aramaic qayṯᵊrôs [for “lyre”]. This is one type of lyre, and the
term itself is a loanword from Greek kitharis [derived from
kithara] In Homer and Herodotus, the kithara was a triangular
shaped 7–stringed lyre. So, this “lyre” is an instrument with strings
stretched across a soundboard and played with a plectrum or the
fingers, similar to a guitar [following the Greek design].
4. The Aramaic śabbᵊḵāʾ [for “four–stringed lyre”]. This term is also
a Greek loanword, rendered in the LXX as sambukē, which was a
4–stringed triangular shaped lyre [like a 4–stringed harp].
5. The Aramaic pᵊsanṭērîn [for “harp”]. This is a loanword from
Greek psaltērion, which was a stringed instrument, triangular in
shape [like a dulcimer harp]. However, it would not have looked
like the modern–day harp, since it was of Greek origin/design.
6. The Aramaic sûmᵊpōnᵊyâ [for “playing together”]. This is a
loanword from Greek sumphōnia. Scholars are disputed, translating
it either as “bagpipe” [not the modern Scottish bagpipe], or simply
as “pipes” [possibly a double–barrelled flute]. But, other scholars
have questioned it being an instrument, and instead a musical
notation having the meaning of “musical harmony” [like an
orchestra with all these instruments in one accord]. Furthermore,
critical scholars point out that this term does not occur in extant
Greek literature until the time of Plato [370 b.c.]. However, since
we only have ~10% of Greek literature from the classical period,
we lack sufficient data for dating the precise origin of any
 106

particular word or usage in the development of the Greek language.

Thus, it is also suggested that the term sûmpōnyâ is about another
instrument derived from the Greek tumpanon, which was a
handheld drum [like a tambourine without the jingles], but for the
purpose of keeping rhythm as a complement to the instruments.

So, archaeologists have uncovered extensive artistic and iconographic

depictions of such instruments. For example, on this 5th century b.c.
Etruscan Tomb of the Leopards, in Tarquinia [central Italy], musicians
play a lyre and a double flute [similar to the qayṯᵊrôs and mašrôqî].

Also, on this 8th century b.c. relief from Karatepe in Turkey, are four
marching musicians entertaining unseen guests at a banquet. The scene
shows, from left to right, four instruments: a small handheld drum [or
tambour], two types of lyre, and a flute. If ancient orchestras commonly
included two types of lyre, this accounts for the pᵊsanṭērîn and qayṯᵊrôs in
Nebuchadnezzar’s orchestra, while the tambour is the sûmᵊpōnᵊyâ.

Likewise, on this 3rd century b.c. fresco from a burial cave at Mareshah
[south central Israel], a musician shoulders a harp as he marches behind a
flutist. Thus, harps appear frequently in ancient reliefs and paintings, but
this type of handheld harp has long since disappeared, evolving into the
large standing instrument we know today. So, although outdated
translations like the KJV mistakenly rendered the Aramaic word śabbᵊḵāʾ
as “sackbut” [a kind of trombone because the names are phonetically
similar], the Greek sambukē refers instead to a similar, but small, harp.

Furthermore, in regards to the pᵊsanṭērîn, it was believed that it was a
dulcimer because of this relief that was discovered at Nineveh in 1850:
The supposed dulcimer player is in the middle. But, there is a large crack
in the soft limestone that partially obscures the horizontal instrument.
Nevertheless, inaccurate drawings in the 1870s depicted it as a dulcimer.
107
This is because the crack was repaired and the stone slab was restored to
show an instrument similar to a modern dulcimer, with strings stretched
over a horizontal sound box and struck with a hammer [left]. However, in
1979, scholars had the 19th century restoration work removed. Then, what
was identified as a rare image of a dulcimer actually turned out to be a
common horizontal harp where the vertical bar ran below the crack [right].
In other words, this vertical bar held the strings taut above the horizontal
baseboard, and harps of this type appear frequently in this type of art.
So, despite the debate on the precise identification of these instruments,
several of the names are nonetheless Greek loanwords that were spread to
the Orient long before the conquests of Alexander in the 4th century b.c.
Edwin Yamauchi [21st century biblical scholar] concludes: “Nearly a
decade ago at the end of a similar survey, I had written: ‘we may safely
say that the presence of Greek words in an Old Testament book is not a
proof of Hellenistic date, in view of the abundant opportunities for

contacts between the Aegean and the Near East before Alexander. The
evidence which I have presented is but a small fraction, which no doubt
will be amplified many times by future discoveries!’ I believe that this
conclusion is irrefutable. Though current commentaries on Daniel
continue to ignore the evidence, further archaeological evidence will, I
predict, serve but to strengthen it. Hopefully future commentaries will
come to recognize that the Greek words in Daniel cannot be used to date
the book to the Hellenistic age.”
Thus, since Greek terms like kitharis have been found in Homer’s writings
from a very early period, and since we know of Greek mercenaries and
Greeks being sold as slaves before Daniel’s day, then it is reasonable to
suggest that these terms and instruments were imported to the Orient.
Thus, when the instruments and music were heard, all the subjects were
first to “fall down” and then they were to “worship” the statue, from the
Aramaic sᵊgid, understood to refer to the act of obeisance [like bowing
before a superior]. But, this type of action was only appropriate for Israel’s
God, and to do this before Nebuchadnezzar’s statue would amount to a
violation of the Ten Commandments [Exodus 20:1–6]. Thus, this became a
serious challenge for the Hebrews in attendance. To make the matter even
more serious, the king commanded that anyone not obeying his order
would be “thrown into the blazing fire furnace.” The Aramaic word ʾattûn
[for “furnace”] is a loanword from Akkadian utūnu [or “kiln”], which were
brick furnaces that was used for burning, glass making, pottery, and
smelting. Nebuchadnezzar’s extensive building projects required massive
kilns. But, executions by fire was not unknown in the Old Testament
[Genesis 38:24; Leviticus 20:14; Judges 14:15], in Mesopotamian laws
[Hammurabi §25, §110, §157], or among the Persians. For example, Cyrus
ordered the execution of King Croesus of Sardis by fire on a pyre of wood,
wanting to see if the gods would save him in view of his piety [Herodotus,
Histories 1.86–87]. But, execution by being cast into a furnace is unusual.
A couple of Akkadian texts indicate that kilns or ovens could be used for
horrific punishments. For example, an Old Babylonian letter records how a
king [Rim–Sin] decreed a talionic punishment for a murderer to be thrown
into an utunu [brick kiln] just as he had killed his victim by throwing him
into a tinuru [oven]. Likewise, there was an edict from the time of Assur–
resa–isi [1132–1115 b.c.] that threatened witnesses who fail to inform on
those who are breaking the rules of the harem with being thrown into an
108
oven. Also, Egyptian literary and religious texts, though not historical
texts, envision the binding and throwing of a few men together into a large
furnace for execution. Finally, Jeremiah mentions that false prophets
named Zedekiah and Ahab, who fomented rebellion among the Jewish
exiles, would be punished by Nebuchadnezzar by being roasted. Thus, he
had a propensity toward punishments involving fire [Jeremiah 29:21–23].
David Falk [21st century Egyptologist] provides an important observation:
“Probably the most common question that I get is, ‘Where is the ark
today?’ Or the similar questions: ‘Is the ark in Ethiopia?’ and ‘Wasn’t the
ark found under the Temple Mount?’ The answer will likely disappoint
you. The last recorded sighting of the ark was during the reign of King
Josiah (2 Chronicles 35:3). This means that the ark was not whisked away
to Ethiopia during the reign of Solomon. The story of the ark being in
Ethiopia was concocted in the 13th century to prop up Aksum’s (modern
Ethiopia) failing monarchy and includes an anachronistic mishmash of
famous figures that interact with no respect to real history. This also
excludes the possibility that the ark was taken by King Shoshenq I when he
came up against Jerusalem (2 Chronicles 12:9). Even though he took the
treasures of the house of the Lord and the palace, these seem to be a
ransom preventing an Egyptian conquest of Jerusalem, as opposed to an
actual conquest. The ark’s attestation during the reign of Josiah seems to
indicate that Rehoboam held the ark back from being handed over to
Shoshenq I, 300 years earlier. When Egyptian King Neco II (610–595 BC)
marched through Israel to help his ally King Ashur–Uballit II (612–605
BC) of Assyria, Josiah tried to interfere in regional politics. He tried to
stop Neco II from getting to the Battle of Charchemish. Josiah was killed
by Neco II’s men, and the Egyptians continued to Charchemish. After the
battle, which resulted in the defeat of the combined Assyrian and Egyptian
armies at the hands of Nebuchadnezzar II (605–562 BC) of Babylon, Neco
II exacted payback on the kingdom of Judah. The Egyptians deposed
Josiah’s successor, Joahaz, and made Eliakim (Jehoiakim) king over
Judah and Jerusalem (2 Chronicles 36:4). The king of Egypt also imposed
a fine of 100 talents of silver and one talent of gold (2 Chronicles 36:3). It
is unlikely that the one talent of gold included the ark since the gold of
the ark probably easily exceeded one talent (33 kg) of gold. Furthermore,
the prophet Jeremiah tells us that the ark ‘will not come to mind nor will
they remember it, nor miss it, nor will it be made again’ (Jeremiah 3:16),

which indicates that the ark was either permanently lost or destroyed. If
the ark makes a visible return, then it would ‘come to mind’ and be
remembered again, contradicting these words of Jeremiah. Josiah died in
610/609 BC. Jeremiah lived between 650 and 570 BC. Nebuchadnezzar II
invaded and destroyed Jerusalem in 587/586 BC. This means that the ark
was most likely taken back to Babylon by Nebuchadnezzar II where it
was destroyed. Nebuchadnezzar II burned the temple and destroyed ‘all its
valuable articles’ (2 Chronicles 36:19). This means that the most
valuable items were destroyed first. Unlike the Egyptian army, the
Babylonians paid their soldiers in gold, and funding an army the size of
Babylon’s created a situation where the royal house was continuously
cash strapped and gold poor. The Babylonians stole whatever gold they
could and melted it down. When the Babylonians destroyed the Solomonic
temple, they broke apart and destroyed the bronze pillars, stands, and
bronze sea (2 Kings 25:13). When King Cyrus II (559–530 BC) of Persia
returned what remained of the temple vessels, the inventory included both
original and duplicated items (Ezra 1:9–10). Essentially, Cyrus II restored
some of what had been destroyed to begin temple service again, but not
everything was restored as it had been before. Large items like the bronze
pillars, bronze sea, and the ark were not replaced. In the case of large
religious furniture like sacred barques and the ark, the Babylonians
burned these pieces in large furnaces. The Babylonians routinely melted
down royal gifts for their precious metal content (EA 3, lines 13–22; 7,
lines 63–72; 10, lines 8–24). After the furnace cooled, the gold was swept
up after all the wood was burned away. This is what became of most
Egyptian sacred furniture after the Assyrians ransacked Egypt. The ark
and what remained of the temple furniture was possibly burned in the
same kind of furnace that is used in the attempted execution of
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed–nego (Daniel 3:20). The destruction of
gold–covered furniture for metal recovery gives us a practical reason for a
furnace large enough for a man to stand in (Daniel 3:25). Thus, the ark
was most likely burned for its gold and the recovered metal was weighed
out and distributed to soldiers, who exchanged it for food, drink, and the
necessities of life. Over millennia, this metal was remelted and the gold
repurposed. Some gold was made into jewellery. Some of that gold has
been used in electronics. Where is the ark today? A small piece of it may
be on your finger.”
109
Paul–Alain Beaulieu [21st century Assyriologist] likewise says: “The
evidence indicates that the motif of punishment in the fiery furnace can be
traced back to a common ancient Near Eastern background, with very
close parallels in both Egypt and Mesopotamia. Although the hypothesis of
Egyptian influence in the elaboration of the motif cannot be discounted,
the Babylonian setting of the tale induces us to seek preferably
Mesopotamian antecedents. Indeed, the recent publication of a
compelling Babylonian parallel from the same historical period in which
Daniel 3 is set provides one of these rare instances where the point of
origin of a legend can be identified. Death by burning carried important
symbolic connotations in the ancient Near East. In the final redaction of
Daniel 3, the motif became a powerful symbol of the travails facing those
faithful to God, and was integrated into a perennial tale of the fall and
ultimate vindication of the righteous.”
John Goldingay [21st century biblical scholar] concludes: “Scholars
usually assume that the furnace was metal and beehive–shaped with an
opening on the top into which the men were thrown, and a door at the side
through which the inside could be seen, though a story about Abram in
Pseudo–Philo 6.15–18 implies it might have been a tunnel–shaped brick
furnace. The burning of criminals is referred to throughout the
Babylonian, Persian, and Greek periods (Jeremiah 29:22; Herodotus,
Histories 1.86; 4.69), but Holm argues that it has a more substantial
Egyptian background. Persians might see such an event as trial by fire
rather than as punishment, because of the sacredness of fire.”
Finally in v. 7, we read: “therefore, when all of the people ‘heard the
sound of the trumpet, the flute, the lyre, the four–stringed lyre, and the
harp, playing together along with various other instruments,’ all the
‘people, nations, and languages’ began to fall down and worship the
golden statue that King Nebuchadnezzar had set up.”
Thus, undoubtedly the music would have heightened and intensified the
emotions on this occasion, even deadening one’s ability to think clearly.
Like a mass gathering with thousands in attendance, the dynamic of the
crowd would have been most compelling, and the masses readily complied
with the king’s command, but Daniel’s friends did not go along with the
masses [later in v. 12].

Their allegiance to God was not for sale at any price, even martyrdom!
Thus, they were a stark contrast to Nebuchadnezzar’s other subjects.
Eugene Carpenter [21st century biblical scholar] summarizes: “This
chapter is tied to the preceding chapter by the presence of a gold statue,
which featured a head of gold that was symbolic of King Nebuchadnezzar.
By his actions it seems clear that the king wants to be more than the head
of the statue; he wants to be the entire statue. He will enthrone the status
quo with him as the head; he gilded the image to tie it to the head of gold.
He did not want to affirm a scenario of future events that excluded him,
such as Daniel’s interpretation of his dream asserted. He disfigured the
body of the dream statue—no chest, arms, abdomen, legs, feet, or toes are
present. He was satisfied to see the gold head extend itself to the base of
his image. The words of the text are powerful for what is left out. They
create a certain aura about the statue: Was it a god or was it
Nebuchadnezzar or both? It leaves us guessing. The power of the symbolic
language makes this ambience possible. The proportions of the image are
odd (if not grotesque), and the lack of specificity achieves its effect well.
Was it sitting on a pedestal? If so, it was even more grossly disfigured.
Was it a stela? This is unlikely, as stelae were not normally referred to as
‘statues’. There is difficulty completing the picture of the image. It is
difficult to say whether worshiping the image implied worshiping
Nebuchadnezzar. Some things are clear, others are not. Finally, it should
be noted that the image stands out as a colossus in Daniel 2–6, and this
focus suggests a relationship to the ‘abomination of desolation’ that will
be featured in Daniel 8–9 and Daniel 11–12. This chapter also concerns
the three Hebrew exiles, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, who were
appointed over the affairs of the province of Babylon and were mentioned
in Daniel 1–2. These Jewish men become the central concern of this
chapter, ultimately representing all Jews. More properly, their trust in
their God and God’s amazing deliverance of them are central foci of this
chapter. These three exiles from Judah defy the king’s person and neurotic
decree commanding them to worship his golden image. Indications of the
hubris revealed in Daniel 4 show up in Nebuchadnezzar’s character in this
chapter as he sets up an image (idol), shows his rage toward God’s
servants, and wields the power of death. He is the king; he ordered the
creation of the image, and everyone will bow down to it and worship—or
die. The king’s unholy and white–hot anger against Shadrach, Meshach,
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and Abednego foreshadowed the anger of future persecutors of God’s
people, whether earthly persons or demonic agents of evil (Daniel 6:5;
7:8, 11, 24–26; 8:9–11, 23–25; 9:26–27; 11:21–45). The deliverance of
God’s people in this chapter depicts what God can do for those who trust
him, yet even death cannot ultimately deter God’s deliverance of his
people (Daniel 12:1–3). These opening verses leave no doubt about who
‘set up’ the image. Six times the Aramaic text asserts that Nebuchadnezzar
‘set up’ the image, and the first verse reports that he made it. So a perfect
seven times in seven verses, Nebuchadnezzar’s ownership of this image
is noted. To drive the point home further, the king’s name,
Nebuchadnezzar, is used seven times by the author. Such repetition is a
common literary device in ancient Semitic literature. Reminiscent of the
Tower of Babel story, this story relates an attempt to once again unite the
whole world, as they would focus and worship—with one language and
with one common ritual (Genesis 11:1)—the great gods of Babylon on
the plain (the Hebrew word for ‘plain’ in Genesis 11:2 is identical to the
Aramaic word for ‘plain’ in Daniel 3:1). There were images of many gods
in Babylonian polytheism. A ‘sun disk’ dating to 839 BC describes the
making of an image of the sun–god Shamash. The king was directed by a
diviner to make a new image of Shamash based on an old one that had
been found. Proper materials, choice of craftsmen, and purification rites
were all prescribed. The king ordered that the mouth of the statue be
washed, and then he had it placed in its holy place. The process of
‘washing its mouth’ purified the new divine image, thus ‘turning it into a
living god.’ The image in Daniel 3 is not a mere piece of gilded wood or
stone. In the worldview of the Babylonians it partook of divinity—and the
king knew that. To dishonour it was to dishonour the king; to dishonour
the king was to dishonour the god and his ‘living image.’ All of the
musical instruments available were used by the king to create a
cosmopolitan milieu of excitement, unity, and common worship before this
image. The event was important, and everyone should be present to enjoy
the festivities. There was no separation of state, religion, and fine arts
here. The list of instruments is given twice in these verses; the officials are
listed twice as well. All of the heads of state, representing all the races,
nations, and languages, also mentioned twice in these verses, are there for
Nebuchadnezzar’s dedication of his image that he set up, evidently trying
to replicate the entire human image depicted in Daniel 2. The
heterogeneous mass of religious peoples were called upon to respond to

the ‘enlightened’ tyrant’s instructions to fall down and worship when they
hear the cacophonous sounds of the king’s orchestra. But, not all will be
enthralled by the music; some are totally out of sync with the music and
the occasion. Three present active participles in the original text indicate
the continuous and ongoing nature of this confused and noisy bunch of
worshipers. There is a surrounding ambience of confusion created by the
language and setting. There was confusion accompanied by ‘all the
peoples of the earth,’ reminiscent of that at Babel (Genesis 11:7, 9).
Indeed, here as at Babel (Akkadian, Bab–ili, ‘gate of the gods’),
disobedience and false worship give way to confusion. But, in Daniel, an
immediate contrast is presented: The gods of Babylon are to be rejected as
the God of the three Jewish men is to be lifted up. There is a bit of pathetic
humour in seeing the leaders of the world’s kingdoms bowing before a
gaunt, grotesque, slender image that must have appeared like an obelisk
rather than a reasonably proportioned well–formed image.”
Chrysostom [4th century Bishop of Constantinople] concludes: “See how
the struggles are so difficult, how irresistible the snare, how deep is the
valley, and a precipice on either hand. But, be not afraid. By whatever
means the enemy increases his machinations, so much more does he
make evident the courage of the young men. For this reason is there this
symphony of so many musicians; for this reason the burning furnace; in
order that both pleasure and fear might attack the souls of those gathered.
Thus, was fear as well as pleasure present; the one entering to assault the
soul by way of the ears, the other by the eyes. But, the noble character of
these youths was not by any such means to be conquered.”
3) Why wee the Jews accused of defying the king’s orders? (3:8–12)
Starting with v. 8, we read: “just then, certain influential Chaldeans took
this opportunity to come forward and denounce the Jews.”
So, Daniel tells us that “certain influential Chaldeans” came forward to
accuse the Jews. The Aramaic term kaśdāʾîn [for “Chaldeans”] appeared
earlier in a list of occult practitioners [recall Daniel 2:2]. In that case, the
term was used in the sense of experts/priests in the Babylonian religion
[one of their functions being astrology]. However, some scholars feel that
the term has an ethnic sense here. While either nuance is possible in this
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case, there is no reason to abandon the meaning the term had in Daniel 2,
namely that of experts/priests in the Babylonian religion. In fact, that
makes good sense in this context. In other words, despite the fact that
Daniel and his three friends were their saviours, there was still a lingering
resentment toward these foreigners who had been appointed over them.
Thus, these Chaldeans had been made to look like fools when their
occultic tactics could not help them identify the king’s dream and
interpretation. It is not hard to imagine that they would have been looking
for an opportunity to vengefully reciprocate against these despised
foreigners. Thus, the Aramaic waʾăḵalû qarṣ hôn [for “denounce”]
literally means “to eat their pieces,” and was derived from the Akkadian
karṣi akālu [or “unfounded accusation”], or an idiomatic expression that
can be paraphrased as “maliciously accused.” Thus, although these
accusations were malicious and self–serving, they were nevertheless true!
Thus, their attitude toward these Jews resembles that exhibited by Haman,
who sought to destroy all the Jews in the days of Esther and King
Ahasuerus. He maliciously exclaimed to Ahasuerus: “There is a certain
people scattered and divided among the people throughout the provinces
of your kingdom. Their laws are different than all the other people, they
don’t obey the king’s laws, and it’s not in the king’s best interest to leave
them alone. If the king approves, let it be decreed that they’re to be
destroyed, and I’ll measure out 10,000 silver talents and bring it to the
king’s treasury for those who will do the work.” [Esther 3:8–9]
Next in vv. 9–11, we read: “they told King Nebuchadnezzar, ‘Your
majesty, live forever. You, your majesty, issued this decree: ‘Every man
who hears the sound of the trumpet, the flute, the lyre, the four–stringed
lyre, and the harp, playing together along with various other instruments
is to fall down and worship the golden statue. Whoever does not fall down
and worship is to be thrown into a blazing fire furnace.’”
Before stating their specific charges, the accusers first reminded the king
of his own edict. They began their address to the king with the standard
court protocol, “your majesty, live forever,” a formality no doubt with little
sincerity behind it, and then the statement in vv. 10–11 were essentially a
restatement of the king’s address in vv. 5–6. Those who refused to bow
down and prostrate themselves in homage to the statue at the sound of the
music were to be thrown alive into the furnace of blazing fire.

Finally in v. 12, we read: “certain influential Jewish men whom you
appointed to manage the city of Babylon—Shadrach, Meshach, and
Abednego—have neither paid attention to you, your majesty, nor served
your gods. And they won’t worship the golden statue that you set up.”
The Chaldeans began by identifying the violators of the king’s edict as
“certain influential Jewish men.” Actually, their ethnic makeup was
immaterial, and did not need to be pointed out. The fact that the Chaldeans
called the king’s attention to this reflects their prejudice against this unique
people. The Chaldeans also underscored the fact that these three specific
Jews had been given their positions by the king himself: “whom you
appointed to manage the city of Babylon.” They were probably trying to
stress the fact that the king had been gracious to these Jews, so as to
malign the three young men as being unappreciative and rebellious. Then
they are categorically named: “Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego.” These
names have been found [in slightly different form] on an ancient
Babylonian list of officials comprising the court of Nebuchadnezzar!
Stephen Miller [21st century biblical scholar] says: “Although one would
not expect to find a record of even a fraction of the countless numbers of
government officials from ancient times, Shea has presented a rather
strong case for identifying the three Hebrews in this story with names
found among more than 50 officials listed on a Babylonian text from the
reign of Nebuchadnezzar. Shea associates Hananiah (Shadrach) with
Hanunu, designated ‘chief of the royal merchants’; Abednego (Azariah)
with Ardi–Nabu, ‘secretary of the crown prince (Amel–Marduk)’; and
Mishael (Meshach) with Mushallim–Marduk, one of the ‘overseers of the
slave girls.’ The last identification is the most tentative, but it is plausible.
Hanunu and Hananiah have a clear correspondence and Ardi–Nabu is an
exact equivalent of Abed–Nabu (Abednego). Other names in this
Babylonian list of officials are also found in the bible: Nabuzeriddinam
= Nebuzaradan (2 Kings 25:8, 11; Jeremiah 39:9–11, 13; 40:1) and
Nergalsharusur (Neriglissar) = Nergal–Sharezer (Jeremiah 39:3, 13).”
Then three specific charges are brought against them: these men “have
neither paid attention to you, your majesty, nor served your gods” and
“they won’t worship the golden statue that you set up.” But, the 1st
accusation was false, since Daniel and these three young men did pay
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attention and did show the highest respect for the king [recall Daniel 2:37,
49]. They also sought to be obedient and respectful to others whom the
king had appointed over them [recall Daniel 1:8, 12–13]. However, the 2nd
and 3rd charges were true, but it was a case of obeying God rather than
man [Acts 4:19–20], because this was part of God’s law [Exodus 20:1–5].
Gregory Goswell [21st century biblical scholar] says: “The expression
‘they do not serve your gods’ (instead of ‘our gods’) also makes the king
the target of their action; and their different religious affiliation from the
king, like their foreign ethnicity (‘certain Jews’), neither of which is
normally a problem in the multi–ethnic and multi–religious empire of the
Babylonians, becomes a further reason to suspect their loyalty. The
cleverly crafted speech turns political betrayal into personal betrayal.”
Chrysostom [4th century Bishop of Constantinople] says: “Consider along
with me the wickedness of those who were their accusers, and how
maliciously and bitterly they brought the accusation! They did not merely
mention the nation, but they also bring to mind the Jews’ honourable
positions, that they may inflame the wrath of the king. It is almost as if they
had said, ‘These slaves, these captives, who are without a city, you have
made rulers over us. But, they show contempt for such an honour and treat
insolently the one who has given them this honour!’ They go on then to
say, ‘The Jews whom you have set over the province of Babylon do not
obey or serve your gods.’ The accusation becomes their greatest praise;
and the crimes imputed, their encomium; a testimony that is
unassailable as it is brought forward by their enemies.”
Romanus Melodus [6th century Byzantine hymnographer] also says:
“When in Babylon an image had been made, and everyone against his will
worshiped the lifeless things as though it were alive, then, as scripture
tells, three youths, having received in their hearts divine guidance, did not
leave the straight path, for they considered the madness of many as a path
that leads astray, and so the steadfast young men did not follow it. But,
advancing on the straight road, always toward the truth, they mocked the
trickery of the Persians, or rather, the sainted boys mourned and
lamented, for a righteous person does not rejoice over the destruction of
another but with groans prays: ‘Hasten, Merciful One; and in compassion
come quickly to our aid, since you are able to do what you will.’”

4) What happened in Nebuchadnezzar’s angry interrogation? (3:13–18)
Starting with vv. 13–15, we read: “Nebuchadnezzar flew into a rage and
furiously ordered that Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego be brought
before him. Nebuchadnezzar asked them, ‘Is it true, Shadrach, Meshach,
and Abednego, that you don’t worship my gods and that you don’t worship
the golden statue that has been set up? Now, if you are ready at this very
moment to obey ‘the sound of the trumpet, the flute, the lyre, the four–
stringed lyre, and the harp,’ and worship the image that I have made; if
you do not so worship, you will immediately have cast yourselves into the
middle of the blazing fire, and what god is there who can deliver you from
my power?’”
This whole scene begins with Nebuchadnezzar in a fit of “rage.” He
certainly is in no frame of mind to think clearly and make rational
decisions. His temper is out of control, and he is filled with arrogance.
Nebuchadnezzar was in a difficult situation himself. He had given a strict
order and certainly expected no one to defy him. Although he had
stipulated that the penalty would be death in the blazing hot furnace, this
was probably hastily said so as to assert his authority. Now his authority
was being put to the test. On the other hand, he could not possibly have
forgotten the three young Jewish men that he had once found so superior
to his own wise men [recall Daniel 1:19–20] and whom he himself had
appointed to high positions at Daniel’s request [recall Daniel 2:49]. Rather
than immediately killing them, the king gave them an opportunity to
escape their fate of death. The king asked them if the charges of not
serving his gods and doing homage to the statue of gold were true. He also
gave them opportunity to comply by falling down and worshiping the
statue when the music sounded again, once more asserting the penalty of
death by severe burning. However, at the end of v. 15, his arrogance
emerges, “what god is there who can deliver you from my power?” In
saying this, he seems to have forgotten the encounter he recently had with
Daniel’s God, and Daniel had given the king an opportunity to understand
that Israel’s God not only gave the king a symbolic dream, but also
revealed its interpretation to Daniel. Nebuchadnezzar had certainly
realized that God had done something more remarkable than what any of
his Babylonian gods could have done, but he obviously did not come to
grips with the power of God. In other words, had he paused to reflect, he
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would have realized that God was unlike his own deities, which means his
rage was not due to reflection, but a threat from his subconscious fear!
Hippolytus [3rd century] says: “Behold the Holy Spirit as it is manifest in
the martyrs’ eloquent speech, comforting them and consoling them and
encouraging them to disregard death. A person deprived of the Holy
Spirit would be frightened and hide in fear, taking precautions against
this death. He is terrified as he stands before the blade, panicked at the
idea of torment and seeing only the world below. This man is consoled
with the life below, as he prefers to have a wife and the love of his children
and to see only wealth. This man, who does not possess the power of
heaven, readily is lost. Thus, whoever is close to the Word hears the
command of the King and Lord of the sky [Matthew 10:38; Luke 14:33].”
Chrysostom [4th century Bishop of Constantinople] likewise says: “Then
the youths alone are led into the midst; they alone conquering and being
proclaimed victors among so vast a multitude. This courage would not
have been so surprising if they had acted courageously at the outset, when
no one had fallen prostrate. But, the greatest and most astonishing fact
was that the multitude of those who fell down neither made them
frightened nor made them weak. They did not say to themselves such
things as many often do, ‘If we were first, and the only persons to worship
the image, this would have been a sin; but if we do this with so many
persons, who will not make allowance? Who will not think us worthy of
defence?’ But, nothing of this sort did they say or think when they beheld
the shapes of so many princes. What does the king do at this point? He
commands that they should be brought into the midst, so that he may make
them scared in every way. But, nothing dismayed them, neither the wrath
of the king, nor their being left alone in the midst of so many, nor the sight
of the fire, nor the sound of the trumpet, nor the whole multitude looking
wrathfully at them; for deriding all these things, as if they were about to be
cast into a cool fountain of water, they entered the furnace uttering that
blessed sentence, ‘We will not serve your gods.’ I have told you this
history with good reason that you may learn that whether it is the wrath
of a king, or the violence of soldiers, or the envy of enemies, or captivity,
or destitution, or fire, or furnace, or 10,000 terrors, nothing will work to
shame or terrify a righteous person. But, I say all this now, and select all
the histories that contain trials and tribulations and the wrath of kings and

their evil designs, in order that we may fear nothing except offending God.
For then also was there a furnace burning; yet they derided it but feared
sin. For they knew that if they were consumed in the fire, they should suffer
nothing that was to be dreaded, but if they were guilty of impiety, they
should undergo the extremes of misery. It is the greatest punishment to
commit sin, though we may remain unpunished; it is the greatest honour
and repose to live virtuously, though we may be punished.”
Finally in vv. 16–18, we read: “Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego
answered King Nebuchadnezzar, ‘It’s not necessary for us to respond in
this matter. Your majesty, if it be his will, our God whom we serve can
deliver us from the blazing fire furnace, and he will deliver us from you.
But if not, rest assured, your majesty, that we won’t serve your gods, and
we won’t worship the golden statue that you have set up.’”
The first reaction that “Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego” gave to
Nebuchadnezzar was: “it’s not necessary for us to respond in this matter.”
So, notice that they did not deny or apologize for their actions. Instead,
since they made a brave decision, they were ready to defend themselves
even if it meant martyrdom, but their words should not be construed as
being disrespectful to the king, as they were simply being frank and firm.
Furthermore, their reply is aimed at the king’s final statement. In other
words, they did not feel that they had to defend God’s ability to deliver.
Nevertheless, v. 17 is extremely difficult to understand and to translate!
Here is the consensus literal translation: “if our God, whom we worship, is
able to save us, he will save us from the furnace of fire and from your
hand, O king.” However, this raises a theological problem. Were the
Jewish youths uncertain of God’s ability to save/deliver them that they
would say “if our God ... is able to save us”? The LXX tried to alleviate
the difficulty by avoiding the conditional element altogether:
1. LXXθ: “For there is a God, whom we serve, able …”
2. LXXΟ: “For there is a God in heaven, our one Lord, whom we
fear, who is able …”
However, in the Aramaic text, there is a conditional clause initiated by the
particle hēn [or “if”], because it is used again at the beginning of v. 18 as
the alternative condition [or “but if not”]. So, Jerome in his Latin Vulgate
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tried to escape the difficulty by emending the text from hēn to hāʾ, the
latter being equivalent to the Hebrew hinnēh [or “behold”]. Thus, it reads:
“behold, our God is able to save us.” However, there is no textual support
for this, and it faces the same problem of the presence of hēn at the
beginning of v. 18. So, we must understand this as a true conditional
statement. Thus, in solving the problem, we need to examine the
combination of the first two words of v. 17: hēn ʾîṯay. This phrase also
occurs in v. 15 and Ezra 5:17, but not exactly parallel, because it is
immediately followed by the particle dî [or “if it be that”]. So, the case in
v. 15 is more helpful, as the pronominal subject on ʾîṯay [namely ʾîṯ ḵôn]
indicates that the subject of the condition follows, and then a subsequent
word [in this case, an adjective] completes the thought. In other words,
“now if you are ready.” This is parallel in structure to v. 17, except that it
does not have an adjective completing the thought, but rather a participle.
Nevertheless, further help is provided by examining the Hebrew equivalent
ʾim yēš. In some cases this can be rendered “if there is,” but only when no
subject of the conditional clause is expressed [Proverbs 23:18; Job 33:23;
Jeremiah 5:1; Lamentations 1:12; Psalm 7:4]. But, v. 17 does have an
expressed subject, and so this is not a suitable parallel. However, we do
find ʾim yēš followed by a subject, and then subsequently by a participle in
the same structure as v. 17 [Genesis 24:42, 49; 43:4; Judges 6:36]. So, in
these cases, yēš serves as an equative verb, where the participle completes
the thought, and the subject after ʾim yēš is the one doing the action. This
could lead to the conclusion that v. 17 can be translated: “if our God whom
we serve is able to deliver us from the furnace of burning fire and out of
your hand, O king, he will deliver us. But if not, let it be known …”
However, there are English translations that object to this translation on
the basis of the short relative clause [“whom we serve”] standing between
the verb “is” and the completing construction “able to deliver.”
Nevertheless, the subject itself [“our God”] stands between the two,
revealing that there is no problem! In other words, the relative clause
simply modifies “God,” and this is the logical place [in Aramaic grammar]
to place it. Thus, the syntactical construction has an emphatic function
here to give prominence to the subject. So, although the separation of ʾîṯay
from the participle is unusual, a comparative study of ʾîṯay reveals that
while the structure is an unusual one, examples can be found where it is
separated from its participle by intervening words.

So, in the Aramaic text, notice that the words and syntax used by
“Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego” echo the words and syntax that had
been used by the king in v. 15. In that earlier verse, the king had used hēn
ʾîṯay followed by an action [to be “ready”], and had concluded his thought
with the verb š ziḇ [or “deliver”] combined with min yᵊḏāy [or “from my
power”]. Hence, their choice of words was purposely formulated to echo
the king’s own words! Once we recognize this, we realize why they are
using the words they do in v. 17; we must not try to understand the
statement in isolation, but rather see it in light of the preceding context.
Thus, they are not questioning God’s ability to save/deliver them. It is the
king who thinks there is no one able to deliver them from his power. But,
obviously he is greatly mistaken, and “Shadrach, Meshach, and
Abednego” couch their words in a form similar to his, so that their
response parallels the way he had put his demand to them! So, the
conditional element is only for the purpose of making a fitting response to
the king and clarifying that they will not bend the knee to his statue or
serve his gods. Thus, the issue in v. 17 is not about God’s existence, or if
they will be thrown into the furnace. Instead, it is a conditional statement
about what God is able to do, but we should not think that they were
questioning God’s power [as though he might lack the power to deliver
them], because the end of v. 17 indicates their affirmation of God’s ability
to deliver them. Thus, their statement, couched in a conditional clause, just
as the king had done with them [v. 15], was a clear rebuttal to the king’s
claim. In other words, the king claimed no god could “deliver you from my
power,” but they bravely asserted that God could “deliver us from you.”
Peter Coxon [20th century biblical scholar] concludes: “The confession
mirrors the faith of the confessors. If their God is able to save, all well and
good, but even if it proved impossible for him to intervene on their behalf
they would still refuse to commit idolatry. At all costs they intend to
respect the commandment against idolatry. There is no implication of
doubt here at all. The perilous expression of the three witnesses in vv. 17–
18 serves only to underline the lengths to which they are prepared to go in
the service of their God and in the defence of their own integrity.”
Thus, since they did not know what God might do in their case, they went
on to say that even if God should choose not to deliver them, they would
remain faithful to him and not serve Nebuchadnezzar’s gods or his statue.
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In summary, it is interesting to see how this story was utilized in the early
church, especially in the difference in how it was preached before and after
Constantine’s conversion to Christianity in 312 a.d. In other words, prior
to Constantine’s conversion, imperial intolerance of Christianity had led to
massive persecution, including burnings, beheadings, and being thrown to
the lions, especially with Septimus’ edict in 202 a.d. outlawing conversion
to Christianity. Thus, representative examples like Hippolytus and Origen
[before 312 a.d.] developed a martyrdom theology of what it meant to be
faithful under imperial persecution in 235 a.d., when Valerian ordered all
Christian clergy to sacrifice to the Roman gods and subsequently issued an
edict that failure to do so would be punishable by death. This all changed
once Christianity became the empire’s official religion. Thus, before 312
a.d., preaching focused on political loyalties, disloyalties, and one’s
willingness to die for Jesus, whereas after this date preaching shifted to a
focus on individual piety and the pursuit of virtue. However, the courage
and bravery of these three young men is not the only lesson we learn from
this episode. We should also reflect on their understanding of God’s will
as they made their decision. They knew that their God could intervene to
deliver his people, if he chose to do so. The exodus event, when the
Hebrews came out of Egypt, supremely demonstrated this. But, they also
realized that God does not always choose to deliver his people, and even
when we [as believers] do not know what God might do for us, we must
stand ready to do our part and be faithful to him. The bible consistently
teaches that God may allow his own precious children to be martyred for
his sake, as Jesus said: “So never be afraid of them, because there is
nothing hidden that will not be revealed, and nothing secret that will not
be made known. What I tell you in darkness you must speak in the daylight,
and what is whispered in your ear you must shout from the housetops. Stop
being afraid of those who kill the body but can’t kill the soul. Instead, be
afraid of the one who can destroy both body and soul in Gehenna. Two
sparrows are sold for a penny, aren’t they? Yet not one of them will fall to
the ground without your Father’s permission. Indeed, even the hairs on
your head have all been counted! So stop being afraid. You are worth
more than a bunch of sparrows.” [Matthew 10:26–31]
So, God is free in his sovereignty to decide as he pleases, and he is under
no obligation to prove that to anyone. Whether he chooses to demonstrate
that or not, our role is to be obedient and accept the outcome.

God is love [1 John 4:16], and he knows every possible fact by which to
base his decisions, and he will do what is perfectly wise. We might not
understand his ways, but we can trust him by faith. For example, in Acts
12, God allowed James to be slain, but miraculously caused Peter to be
freed from jail. God could have caused both to be free, but he did not. As
we mature in faith, we realize that we will often not know what God is
going to do for us, or why he chooses to do what he does. This is maturity!
Tertullian [2nd century] says: “In terms of the honours due to king or
emperor, we have a clear ruling to be subject in all obedience, according
to the apostle’s command, to magistrates and princes and those in
authority [Romans 13:7; 1 Peter 2:13], but this obedience must be within
the bounds of Christian discipline. That is, it is proper so long as we keep
ourselves free of idolatry. It was for this reason that the familiar example
of the three friends occurred before our time. Obedient in other respects to
King Nebuchadnezzar, they most firmly refused to honour his image, and
by this they proved that to extend the honour proper to a mortal beyond its
due limits until it resembles the grandeur of God is idolatry. Daniel, in the
same way, subjected himself to Darius in all points and performed his duty
as long as it did not imperil his religion. To avoid that, Daniel showed no
more fear of the king’s lions than they had shown of the king’s fires.”
Augustine [4th century Bishop of Hippo] says: “Examine the divine
scriptures, and scrutinize them as closely as you can and see whether
killing oneself was ever done by any of the good and faithful souls, even
though they suffered great trials at the hands of those who were trying to
drive them to eternal destruction, not to eternal life. I have heard that you
said the apostle Paul meant that this was lawful when he said, ‘If I should
deliver my body to be burned’ [1 Corinthians 13:3]. But, notice carefully
and understand in what sense scripture says that anyone should deliver his
body to be burned: not, certainly, that he should jump into the fire when
harassed by a pursuing enemy, but that when a choice is offered him of
either doing wrong or suffering wrong, he chooses not to do wrong rather
than not to suffer wrong. In this case, he delivers his body not to the
power of the slayer, as those three men did who were being forced to
adore the golden statue and who were threatened by the one who was
forcing them with the furnace of burning fire if they did not do it. They
refused to adore the idol, but they did not cast themselves into the fire.”
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Chrysostom [4th century Bishop of Constantinople] says: “Observe that the
young men by a special dispensation are ignorant of the future, for if they
had foreknown, there would have been nothing wonderful in their doing
what they did. For what marvel is it if, when they had a guarantee of
safety, they defied all terrors? Then God indeed would have been glorified
in that he was able to deliver them from the furnace, but they would not
have been wondered at, inasmuch as they would not have cast themselves
into dangers. For this reason, he caused them to be ignorant of the future
that he might glorify them the more. And as they cautioned the king that he
was not to condemn God of weakness though they might be burned, so God
accomplished both purposes: manifesting his own power and making even
more obvious the zeal of the children. And so they entered into the fire;
manifesting all courage and gentleness and doing nothing for reward or
for compensation or return. We also have already our compensation, for
indeed we have it in that we have been given the full knowledge of him,
being made members of Christ. The reason why I admire those youths and
pronounce them blessed and enviable is not because they trampled on the
flame and vanquished the force of the fire, but because they were bound
and cast into the furnace and delivered to the fire for the sake of true
doctrine. For this was the whole of their triumph, and the wreath of victory
was placed on their brows as soon as they were cast into the furnace. And
yet, even before this momentous event, the wreath was woven for them. It
was from the moment that they uttered those words as they spoke with such
boldness and forthrightness to the king when they were brought into his
presence. ‘We have no need to answer you concerning these things.’ After
the utterance of these words, I proclaimed them conquerors; after these
words, grasping the prize of victory, they hastened on to the glorious
crown of martyrdom, following up the confession that they made through
their words with the confession made through their deeds.”
Ambrose [4th century Bishop of Milan] says: “Preserve then, my sons, that
friendship you have begun with your brothers, for nothing in the world is
more beautiful than that. It is indeed a comfort in this life to have one to
whom you can open your ear, with whom you can share secrets and to
whom you can entrust the secrets of your heart. It is a comfort to have a
trusty person by your side who will rejoice with you in prosperity,
sympathize in troubles, encourage in persecution. What good friends they
were that the furnace flames did not separate the love of each other!”

Theodoret [5th century Bishop of Cyr] concludes: “Far from serving our
Lord for payment, we are motivated by affection and longing, and at the
same time we prefer the service of our God to everything. Hence, instead
of asking for relief from the troubles unconditionally, we embrace the
Lord’s planning and providence; and without knowledge of what will be of
benefit, we leave the helm to the pilot, no matter what he wishes,
understanding clearly that he is able to free us from the threatened evils.
Whether he wishes to do so, we do not know; but we leave it to him, wise
governor as he is, and accept his verdict, confident that it is to our benefit.
Whether he rescues us or not, therefore, we shun worship of your statue
and your gods.”
5) What happened after Nebuchadnezzar’s angry interrogation? (3:19–23)
Starting with vv. 19–20, we read: “Out of control with rage,
Nebuchadnezzar’s facial expression changed toward Shadrach, Meshach,
and Abednego, and he ordered that the furnace be heated seven times
hotter than usual. Then he issued orders to his elite guard to bind
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego with ropes and throw them into the
blazing fire furnace.”
We have already seen Nebuchadnezzar as a man prone to anger and often
reacting irrationally [recall Daniel 2:12–13]. He was angry upon hearing of
the insubordination of the three Hebrew youths [v. 13], and now we see his
anger totally out of control over their refusal to serve his gods or give
homage to the image. But, some scholars provide a more sympathetic view
of Nebuchadnezzar as the Babylonian “king of justice” with an obligation
to see that justice prevailed according to the law code of Babylonia.
Peter Coxon [20th century biblical scholar] says: “In Daniel 3
Nebuchadnezzar is inveigled by the clever dispositions of ’certain
Chaldaeans’ into the unenviable position of judging Shadrach, Meshach
and Abednego for forthright blasphemy and lèse–majesté. These Jewish
heroes are put in vulnerable positions. The conniving Chaldaeans had
cleverly transmuted the king’s attempt to further his mission as universal
king and just ruler by erecting a statue of himself called ‘king of justice’
into the arena of hostile ideological confrontation. What had started out as
a symbol of royal supremacy and legal authority had become the centre of
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a slanging match about reverence for the gods, propriety of worship and
cheap challenging of the rule of law. Nebuchadnezzar’s hermeneutic,
which had begun with a clear understanding of his special role as chosen
sovereign, had become distorted into the demand for an either/or
confession involving idolatrous practice for the Jewish exiles. A final twist
may be seen in the resolution of the story. The Jews win a remarkable
victory on the very grounds of allegiance by which the Chaldaeans had
hoped to destroy them. They are vindicated by the king himself, who, as
God’s servant and judge, has special powers to rescind the old decree and
promulgate a new one which will unequivocally protect the Jews and
their religious practice from Chaldaean machinations.”
Nevertheless, his whole facial expression reflected his extreme anger, and
there is an interesting wordplay in the Aramaic text. The word translated
“expression” is the Aramaic ṣᵊlēm [or “statue” and “image”], and it was
used for the golden statue. So, the three youths would not change their
mind about worshiping his ṣᵊlēm [statue/image] and as a result the ṣᵊlēm
[or “expression”] of Nebuchadnezzar’s face was changed. Thus, this
wordplay highlights that Nebuchadnezzar’s image/statue was brilliantly
golden, but the image of his face was distraught, reflecting his rage within.
So, notice the sequence: Nebuchadnezzar dreamed about one image [recall
Daniel 2:31], had another erected [v. 1], and changed another [his face].
As a result, the king “ordered that the furnace be heated seven times hotter
than usual.” This may have been some type of proverbial expression
[Proverbs 24:16; 26:16], or an idiomatic expression [“as hot as possible”],
or simply hyperbole. It cannot be taken literally, because a temperature of
that magnitude would be the sun’s surface [5,778 K = 5504.85°C]!
Nevertheless, the furnace was now hot enough to incinerate anyone alive.
Finally in vv. 21–23, we read: “the elite guard tied them up fully clothed,
still wearing their robes, tunics, and turbans, and threw them into the
blazing fire furnace, because the king’s command was so drastic. Since the
furnace was blazing hot, its flames killed those who threw Shadrach,
Meshach, and Abednego into the blazing fire. Bound firmly with ropes,
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego fell into the blazing fire furnace.”
The “elite guard” that was chosen to carry out the execution were not
average troops, but were the king’s strongest warriors available.

This is because the Aramaic lᵊguḇrîn gibbār –ḥayil [or “mighty men of
strength”] is equivalent to the Hebrew gibbôr haḥayil [or “mighty men of
valour”], and the LXX Greek andras ischurotatous [or “very strong men”].
James Jordan [21st century biblical scholar] offers a fascinating insight:
“As the original tower was built on a plain, so Nebuchadnezzar’s new
tower in Daniel 3 is built on a walled plain in Shinar. While the Joktanite
Hebrews had cooperated with Nimrod, the refusal of the three Jewish
men to participate in the new Babel is what destroys the new enterprise.
We see in this the theme, so important in the Restoration Era, of
intermarriage. Those who are faithful to God will minister within the
empire, but will not join with the heathen in their worship. Another strong
link to the original tower of Babel incident is the use of the term ‘mighty
men’ in Daniel 3. There is an opposition between the three Jewish men as
‘mighty men’ and the ‘mighty men’ of Nebuchadnezzar. The Aramaic word
is gibborin (plural) which is equivalent to the Hebrew gibborim (plural).
Before the Flood, when the sin of intermarriage was being committed,
such ‘mighty men’ were found on the earth. Nimrod is specifically said to
be the heir of such mighty men in Genesis 10:8–9. That text gives us a
saying, that Nimrod was a mighty man and a hunter before the face of
God. This saying sets us up for Esau, who was a hunter. When Isaac came
to bless Esau, he called him a gibbir, though it was actually Jacob who
received that title (Genesis 27:29, 37). This variant spelling only occurs
here in the bible, and English versions render it as ‘master,’ but it means
‘mighty one.’ Thus, it is no accident that as he left home, Jacob
encountered a true Tower of Babel in a vision (Genesis 28:10–22). The
‘ladder to heaven’ (probably a pyramid or obelisk, which is a long slender
pyramid) is equivalent to the tower. ‘Gate of heaven’ (v. 17) is the Hebrew
equivalent of Bab–el, ‘Gate of God.’ The stone stood up with oil poured on
it is a permanent marker of this true Babelic site. In Jacob’s vision it is
God, not man, who sets up the ladder/tower to heaven. Similarly, in
Daniel it is not Nebuchadnezzar who sets up the true avenue of worship,
but it will be the Jews, when they return to Jerusalem, who will set it up.
The word ‘mighty man’ occurs 12 times in Daniel 3, and only occasionally
thereafter. In Daniel 5:11, Daniel is called a mighty man, and he defeats
Belshazzar’s feast as the three mighty men defeated Nebuchadnezzar’s
worship festival in Daniel 3. In Daniel 6, the mighty men of Persia try to
get Daniel killed, and are defeated (vv. 5, 11, 15, 24). In Daniel 11:3,
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Alexander the Great is called a mighty man. Finally, in Daniel 8:15, a
divine person appears to Daniel as a mighty man. That person is named
Gabri–el, which comes from gibbor–i–’el, or ‘My mighty man is The
Mighty One.’ He also appears in Daniel 9:21. Thus, in Daniel, there is a
contest of mighty men. In Daniel 3, Nebuchadnezzar’s mighty men include
his counsellors and the strong men of his army. These are all defeated by
God’s mighty men, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. Of particular
interest is the deliberate parallelism of phrasing in vv. 8 and 12. The
Chaldeans, remember, were the religious leaders, magicians, of the
Babylonian religion. They are set in opposition to the leaders of the true
religion, the faithful Jews. All of these factors point us to Daniel 3 as a
new Tower of Babel incident. Unlike the first incident, however, there are
faithful Hebrews who refuse to cooperate in the project. The result,
therefore, is different this time. Instead of scattering and destroying the
project, God chooses to transform it. Yes, like Nimrod, Nebuchadnezzar
has to leave off building his tower, but his kingdom is not scattered.
Instead, the true religion is established in it, forming a true cement for
the larger culture. The use of ‘mighty man/men’ in Daniel is instructive.
While the original mighty men in Genesis were political leaders, like
Nimrod—and later on David had his three mighty men—in Daniel God’s
faithful ‘priestly’ agents are the true mighty men. Daniel’s book causes us
to rethink what a ‘mighty man’ really is, and to see that the strong and
mighty of this world are not what they may appear to be, not what they
and others think they are.”
Thus, it may not have been necessary to have men of this calibre to bind
and throw the Hebrews into the furnace, but they certainly provide a stark
contrast in the story: the fire of the furnace does no harm to the Hebrew
youths who are bound, whereas Babylon’s “mighty men of strength” are
destroyed by the fire without being bound and without even entering the
furnace! As they went into the blazing furnace, they did so still fully
clothed. The terms for their clothing included their outer attire, headgear,
and other articles of clothing, and were derived from Persian loanwords.
For example, the Aramaic term sarbāl hôn [for “robes”] may mean either
a type of coat, or long baggy oriental trousers [like a type of Persian
pantaloon]. The LXXΟ translated it as hupodēmata [a sandal or type of
boot], while the LXXθ translated it as sarabarois [loose trousers that were
worn by the Scythians].

Likewise, the Aramaic term ḵarbᵊlāṯᵊhôn [for “turbans”] is a loanword
from Akkadian karballatu, but was a form of Persian dress. In Akkadian it
refers to a piece of linen headgear for soldiers. The LXX translated this
with the Greek word tiara [a particular type of Persian head–dress]. Thus,
these terms for their clothing seem to have included their outer attire,
headgear, and other articles of clothing, and such garments would
normally have caught fire immediately [to highlight the miraculous nature
of the event]. In fact, this further showcases a type of satirical aspect to the
story, in order to magnify God’s power when delivering his servants.
Marius Nel [21st century biblical scholar] says: “The king’s reaction is
dominated by the references to the fiery furnace, with the fire symbolizing
the king’s fury and rage. The furnace is red–hot (vv. 20–21, 23, 26), but
the fire does not consume the Jews (vv. 24–27). The clothing of the three
Jews is described in an alliterative list while the bounding of them is
described (vv. 20–21, 23–24) in contrast to their being unbound (v. 25),
indicating that the king’s will is not done even though he tries his very
best. The scene creates an atmosphere of absurdity and humour. That the
furnace is heated seven times hotter than normal is hyperbolic and the
consumption of the soldiers who throw the Jews into the furnace is
grotesque. The seven–fold increase in the heat symbolically participates in
the king’s enkindled rage and consuming indignation. These soldiers
bowed before the king’s gods and his statue but have to die in carrying out
their king’s orders, an ironic twist to the tale.”
So, the urgency of the king’s command and the exceedingly hot furnace
were a dangerous combination. Perhaps in their haste to obey the king’s
urgent command, they did not take proper precautions in approaching the
furnace. As a result, the men who brought up those to be punished were
actually slain by the flames themselves. Apparently, they had to get very
close to the furnace door in order to push the Hebrews in [which they
succeeded in doing], but they underestimated the danger of the flames [not
being accustomed to having the furnace heated this hot]. Although we do
not have a detailed description of the type of furnace that was used, it
apparently had some type of door near the top, because Daniel indicates
that the three Hebrew youths “fell” into the midst of the furnace while still
“bound firmly with ropes,” and when the soldiers opened the upper door
the flames shot out and killed them as they pushed them into the furnace.
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Curiously, after v. 23, the LXX add extensive information that is not found
in the Aramaic text: “the flame going out from the furnace set on fire the
men hindering those with Azariah and killed them. But they were
preserved. In this manner, therefore, Hananiah and Azariah and Mishael
prayed, and they sang to the Lord when the king commanded them to be
thrown into the furnace. And standing still, Azariah prayed in this manner,
and when he opened his mouth he acknowledged the Lord together with
his companions in the middle of the blazing fire, the furnace having been
ignited by the Chaldeans very much with fire, and they said, ‘Blessed are
you, O Lord, God of our fathers, and to be praised, and glorious is your
name into the eternities! For you are righteous concerning all the things
you have done to us, and all your works are true, and your paths are right,
and all your judgments are truthful. And you have carried out accurate
judgments according to all the things you have brought upon us, and upon
your holy city, the city of our fathers, Jerusalem, because in truth and in
justice you have done all these things on account of our sins. For we have
sinned in every way, and acted lawlessly by moving away from you, and
we have done grievous wrong in every way. And we have not listened to
the commandments of your law. Neither have we closely observed nor
have we acted according to what you commanded to us, in order that it
may go well for us. And now, everything, whatsoever you have brought
against us, and everything, whatsoever you have done to us, you have
acted in truthful judgment. Now you have given us over into the hands of
our enemies, lawless and hostile rebels, and to an unrighteous king, even
to the most wicked king in all the earth. And so now it is not permitted for
us to open our mouth. Dishonour and disgrace has come to your servants,
even those worshiping you. Do not utterly give us over on account of your
name, and do not turn from your covenant. And do not remove your mercy
from us on account of Abraham, the one loved by you, and on account of
your servant Isaac and your holy one Israel. Just as you told them, saying
that you would multiply their seed as the stars of the heavens in abundance
and as the sand along the shore of the sea. For, O Master, we have been
reduced more than any of the peoples, and we are humbled throughout the
whole earth today because of our sins. Now there is not at this time a ruler
nor a prophet nor a leader nor a whole burnt offering nor any offering nor
gifts nor an incense sacrifice nor a place to give an offering before you
and thus to find mercy. Yet, with a soul shattered and a spirit made low,
we might be accepted, just as though we came with whole burnt offerings

of rams and bulls, and just as though we came with myriads of fat lambs.
So may our sacrifice be before you today, also to atone behind you, since
there is no shame for those who put confidence in you and completely
follow you. And now, we follow you earnestly with our whole heart, and
we fear you, and we seek your face; do not shame us! But have mercy with
us according to your goodness and according to the abundance of your
compassion. And rescue us in accordance with your wonderful acts, and
give honour to your name, O Lord. And may they be shamed, all those who
show forth against your servants their evil acts. And may they be
discredited from having any power, and may their authority be shattered!
Let them know that you alone are the Lord God, and notable and glorious
over the whole inhabited world.’ And those who threw them into the
furnace, the servants of the king, those who were stoking the furnace, did
not cease. And when they were casting the three at once, into the furnace,
and as the furnace was blazing hot in accordance with its increased
sevenfold heat, and when they cast them in, those casting them in were
above them, but those who fed the fire were below them with naphtha and
flax and pitch and brushwood. Then the flame shot forth high above the
furnace by over 49 cubits. And so it broke out of control and burned those
it reached from around the furnace from the Chaldeans. But a divine being
of the Lord descended at the same time to the ones around Azariah, into
the furnace, and dispersed the flame of fire from the furnace. Then he
made the middle of the furnace like a moist wind gently whistling, so that it
did not touch them at all; and the fire did not cause pain and did not
trouble them. And lifting up their voices, the three, as if out of one mouth,
sang praises and extolled and praised and exalted God within the furnace,
saying, ‘Blessed are you, O Lord God of our fathers, and praiseworthy
and to be exalted into the eternities. And blessed is your glorious name,
holy and praiseworthy, and to be exalted exceedingly into all eternities.
Blessed are you within the temple of your holy glory, and to be highly
exalted and wholly glorious into the eternities! Blessed are you upon the
throne of glory of your kingdom, and to be praised and exceedingly
exalted into the eternities! Blessed are you, the one who sees into the
abyss, who sits upon the cherubim, and are to be praised and magnified
into the eternities! Blessed are you in the firmament of the heavens, and to
be praised and magnified into the eternities! Bless, O all works of the
Lord, the Lord, praise and exalt him exceedingly into the eternities! Bless,
O angels of the Lord, the Lord; laud and exalt him exceedingly into the
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eternities! Bless, O heavens, the Lord, laud and exalt him exceedingly into
the eternities! Bless, O waters and all above the heavens, the Lord; praise
and exalt him exceedingly into the eternities! Bless, O all the power and
hosts of the Lord, the Lord; laud and exalt him exceedingly into the
eternities! Bless, O sun and the moon, the Lord; laud and exalt him
exceedingly into the ages! Bless, O stars of the heavens, the Lord; praise
and exalt him exceedingly into the eternities! Bless, O all storms and dew,
the Lord; laud and exalt him exceedingly into the eternities! Bless, O all
winds, the Lord; praise and exalt him exceedingly into the eternities!
Bless, O fire and scorching heat, the Lord; laud and exalt him exceedingly
into the eternities! Bless, O shivering cold and cutting cold weather, the
Lord; praise and exalt him exceedingly into the eternities! Bless, O gentle
dew and swirling snowstorm, the Lord; laud and exalt him exceedingly
into the eternities! Bless, the Lord, O frost and cold, laud and exalt him
exceedingly into the eternities! Bless, O hoar–frost and snow, the Lord;
laud and exalt him exceedingly into the eternities! Bless, O night time and
day time, the Lord; sing a hymn and exalt him exceedingly into the
eternities! Bless, O light and darkness, the Lord; praise and exalt him
exceedingly into the eternities! Bless, O flashing lightning and stirring
clouds, the Lord; laud and exalt him exceedingly into the eternities! Bless,
O earth, the Lord; sing forth and exalt him exceedingly into the eternities!
Bless, O mountain heights and high places of the hills, the Lord; laud and
exalt him exceedingly into the eternities! Bless, O everything that springs
forth upon the earth, the Lord; sing a hymn and exalt him exceedingly into
the eternities! Bless, O rainstorms and running waters, the Lord; praise
and exalt him exceedingly into the eternities! Bless, O seas and rivers, the
Lord; sing a hymn and exalt him exceedingly into the eternities! Bless, O
huge creatures of the sea and everything that moves in waters, the Lord;
praise and exalt him exceedingly into the eternities! Bless, O all the
winged creatures of the heavens, the Lord; sing a hymn and exalt him
exceedingly into the eternities! Bless, O four–footed animals and beasts of
the earth, the Lord; laud and exalt him exceedingly into the eternities!
Bless, O sons of humans, the Lord; laud and exalt him exceedingly into the
eternities! Bless, O Israel, the Lord; sing a hymn and exalt him
exceedingly into the eternities! Bless, O priests, the Lord; praise and exalt
him exceedingly into the eternities! Bless, O servants, the Lord; sing a
hymn and exalt him exceedingly into the eternities! Bless, O spirits and
souls of the righteous, the Lord; praise and exalt him exceedingly into the

eternities! Bless, O holy and low ones in your heart, the Lord; sing a hymn
and exalt him exceedingly into the eternities! Bless, O Hananiah, Azariah,
and Mishael, the Lord; praise and exalt him exceedingly into the
eternities! For he has taken us out of Hades, and has saved us from the
hand of death, and has rescued us from the middle of the raging flame, and
from the fire he delivered us! Acknowledge and give thanks to the Lord, for
he is good, for his mercy continues into the eternities! Bless, all those who
worship the Lord, God of the gods; sing a hymn and acknowledge him
fully, for his mercy continues into the ages, even into the age of eternities!”
So, while this material is interesting, it should not be regarded as scripture,
being additions that were made subsequent to Daniel’s original text. In
fact, the oldest copy [1Q Danb] proceeds to v. 24 without these insertions.
6) How did God supernaturally protect them in the furnace? (3:24–27)
Starting with vv. 24–25, we read: “Astonished, King Nebuchadnezzar
stood up in terror, and asked his advisors, ‘Didn’t we throw three men into
the fire, bound firmly with ropes?’ In reply they told the king, ‘Yes, your
majesty.’ ‘Look!’ he told them, ‘I see four men walking untied and
unharmed in the middle of the fire, and the appearance of the fourth
resembles a divine being.’”
Apparently the furnace must have had some type of door at the lower
portion [in addition to the upper opening], because the king and his cohorts
were able to see inside. What the king saw was not only amazing, but even
frightening, since the Aramaic tᵊwah [for “astonished”] also has the
element of fear to it. Not only were the Hebrews alive and unbound, but
there were also now four individuals in the blazing fire. To make sure he
had not overlooked something, the king asked his “advisors” to confirm
that only “three men” had been thrown into the fire, and they quickly
affirmed this was so. There had been no mistake about the number of men
put into the furnace. With the furnace as hot as it was, one would have
expected the bodies to have charred and been consumed rather quickly.
Instead, the king saw “four men” unbound and even walking about in the
midst of the fire, totally unharmed. However, the miracle was more than
the fact that the fire did not kill them. In other words, they were not only
saved from the conflagration, but also from asphyxiation, CO poisoning,
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and from other possible toxic fumes generated during the combustion
process [to further heighten the magnitude of this spectacular miracle].
One can only imagine the exhilarating feeling that the Hebrew youths must
have had as they walked about in the fire without being harmed, for surely
they were conscious and aware of what was taking place, not to mention
any conversation they might have had with the mysterious 4th individual.
So, who was this 4th individual? Obviously he was not an ordinary human,
although he may have appeared in human form to them. Outdated English
translations like the KJV read “the Son of God.” However, recent
scholarship confirms that it should read “a divine being.” This is because
Nebuchadnezzar would not have recognized this 4th individual as the
preincarnate 2nd Yahweh. In other words, since this is coming from the lips
of a polytheistic pagan king, it is doubtful that Nebuchadnezzar would
have anachronistically asserted Trinitarian theology. Furthermore, the KJV
translation “Son of God” is linguistically inaccurate, since “Son of God”
would be Aramaic bar ʾĕlāhāʾ [having the singular form of “god”], but the
text has Aramaic bar ʾĕlāhîn [with the plural form “gods”]. In other words,
although the Hebrew word ʾĕlōhîm can mean either “God” or “gods,” the
same phenomenon does not hold true in Aramaic [especially in Daniel].
Normally in the Aramaic section of Daniel, if “God” is meant, then we
find the singular form [later in vv. 26–29]. Thus, the Aramaic should be
translated “like a son of the gods,” since Nebuchadnezzar took him to be
some kind of divine being without really grasping who or what he was.
Furthermore, although Nebuchadnezzar calls him a malʾaḵ [or “angel”]
later in v. 28, this does not prove that the king took him to be one.
Nevertheless, the LXXΟ rendered ḇar ʾĕlāhîn by the Greek angelou theou
[or “angel of God”], while the LXXθ translated it as homoia huiōi theou
[or “like the son of God”], both using “God” in the singular.
Michael Heiser [21st century biblical scholar] says: “It is not possible to
link either the figure of Daniel 3:24–28 or the angel of Daniel 6:22 with
this heavenly man or the angel of Yahweh. Not only does the description of
the 4th ‘man’ in the fiery furnace come from Nebuchadnezzar—hardly a
source of Israelite thought—the term ‘son of the gods’ aligns quite easily
with divine ‘sons of God’ terminology used of members of the heavenly
host who are not Yahweh. In Daniel 6:22, ‘his angel’ is ambiguous (all
angels are under God’s authority). Both these figures are best understood
as ‘normal’ divine agents in God’s service, not the angel of Yahweh.”

Thus, although Jewish tradition interpreted the 4th individual to be an
“angel,” since the Talmud asserts that it was Gabriel [Pes. 118a, b],
because Gabriel appears in Daniel’s book [later in Daniel 8:16; 9:21],
Christian tradition instead held that the 4th individual was the 2nd Yahweh
in human form, as evident throughout the Old Testament [Genesis 16:7,
13; 31:11–13; Exodus 3:2–6; Joshua 5:13–15; Judges 2:1–5; 6:22–24].
Irenaeus [2nd century Bishop of Lyons] says: “It is manifest in scripture
that the Father is indeed invisible, of whom also the Lord said, ‘No one
has seen God at any time’ [John 1:18]. But, his Word, as he willed it and
for the benefit of those who saw, did show the Father’s brightness and
explained his will. He appeared to those who saw him not in one figure or
in one character, but according to the reasons and purposes that he
wanted to achieve, as we see written in Daniel. He was seen with those
who were around Ananias, Azarias, and Misael as present with them in the
furnace of fire, in the burning, and preserving them from the effects of fire:
‘And the appearance of the fourth,’ it is said, ‘was like the Son of God.’ At
another time he is represented as ‘a stone cut out of the mountain without
hands’ [Daniel 2:45], and as destroying all temporal kingdoms, and as
himself filling all the earth. Then too he is the same being beheld as the
Son of Man coming in the clouds of heaven and drawing near to the
Ancient of Days [Daniel 7:13–14].”
Hippolytus [3rd century] likewise says: “Tell me, Nebuchadnezzar, when
did you see the Son of God, that you should confess that this is the Son of
God? And who stirred your heart, that you should utter such a phrase?
And with what eyes were you able to look into this light? And why was this
manifest to you alone and to none of the satraps around you? Thus, it is
written, ‘The heart of a king is in the hand of God,’ and of God is here,
whereby the Word stirred his heart, so that he might recognize him in the
furnace and glorify him. And this idea of ours is not without good ground;
the scripture showed beforehand that the Gentiles would recognize him
incarnate, whom, while not incarnate, Nebuchadnezzar saw and
recognized of old in the furnace and acknowledged to be the Son of God.”
Jerome [4th century] concludes: “As for the fourth man, which he asserts to
be like the son of God, I do not know how an ungodly king could have
merited a vision of the Son of God. For that reason, we are to think of
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angels here, who after all are very frequently called gods as well as sons
of God. So much for the story itself. But, as for its typical significance, this
angel of the Son of God foreshadows our Lord Jesus Christ, who
descended into the furnace of hell, in which the souls of both sinners
and of the righteous are imprisoned, in order that he might without
suffering any scorching by fire or injury to his person deliver those who
were held imprisoned by chains of death.”
Finally in v. 26–27, we read: “Then Nebuchadnezzar approached the
opening of the blazing fire furnace. He shouted out, ‘Shadrach, Meshach,
and Abednego, servants of the Most High God, come out and come here!’
So Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego came out of the fire. The regional
authorities, viceroys, governors, and royal advisors gazed at those men
and saw that the fire had no effect on their bodies—not a hair on their
head was singed, their clothes were not burned and did not smell of fire.”
So, astounded by what he saw, the king moved closer for a better look.
Then he called out to the three youths to come out, addressing them as
“servants of the Most High God” where the Aramaic ʾĕlāhāʾ illāyāʾ [for
“Most High God”] is comparable to the Hebrew ʾēl elyôn [Genesis 14:20].
Thus, although this was a very honourable way to refer to them [and to
their God], this does not mean Nebuchadnezzar had had some type of
conversion, because even the Greeks referred to Zeus as “the Most High.”
So, just imagine how it must have appeared to everyone to see the three
Hebrews emerging from this blazing furnace looking quite normal, but
with smiles on their faces. Nebuchadnezzar was not the only witness to
this miracle, for the text tells us that the highest rulers and officials of the
empire were there as witnesses. For those who were not there on that day
or who could not have been close enough to observe what happened, they
would have received a highly credible report about the miracle, coming as
it was from such astute dignitaries. Three crucial observations were noted:
1. Their bodies had been unharmed and their hair was not singed.
2. Their clothing was undamaged.
3. They did not even have the smell of smoke on them.
Thus, this divine miracle had occurred to showcase Nebuchadnezzar’s
presumptuousness about his kingdom glory to be deflated by Israel’s God.

Charles Baukal Jr. [21st century combustion engineer] explains the science:
“Since the phrase ‘burning fiery furnace’ appears eight times in Daniel 3,
little has been written about the furnace itself, and neither has this miracle
been analysed from a scientific perspective. Three elements are required
for a fire: a fuel, an oxidant (usually air), and an ignition source. This is
typically referred to as the fire triangle. Once a fire has been started, the
heat from the flame is normally enough to keep the fire going; that is, the
heat from the fire itself becomes the ignition source. If any leg of the
triangle is missing, the fire is extinguished. One method of extinguishing a
fire is to cool it to a temperature below auto–ignition so that it will no
longer be self–sustaining. This is often done by spraying liquid water onto
the flame because water is inexpensive, usually readily available, and has
a high heat capacity to absorb energy, which makes it particularly
effective for cooling a flame. Another method is to suffocate a fire by
restricting or eliminating the flow of air into the flame, such as by
blanketing a flame with foam or carbon dioxide from a fire extinguisher.
Once the flame has been sufficiently starved of oxygen, it goes out. A third
method of flame extinguishment is to eliminate the source of the fuel, such
as by shutting off the fuel supply to the burners in a furnace. To prevent
the flames from being extinguished in the fiery furnace, a continuous
supply of both fuel and air would have been needed. Three basic types of
fuels are solids, liquids, and gases. Examples of solid fuels include wood,
charcoal, and coal (Proverbs 26:20–21). Examples of liquid fuels include
gasoline, diesel, and jet fuel. Examples of gaseous fuels include natural
gas, methane, and propane. Gaseous fuels are the easiest to burn because
they are already in the proper form for reaction, whereas liquid fuels must
be vaporized to a gas and solid fuels volatilized into a gas so that they can
burn. The fuel used in the fiery furnace was almost assuredly solid. Only
two fuels were used in antiquity: biomass (wood, shrubs, straw, and dung)
and charcoal (made by heating biomass under air–starved conditions to
produce a solid consisting of mostly carbon). In the LXX, Daniel 3:46
describes the fuel that was added as naphtha, pitch, tow, and brush.
Naphtha is a naturally occurring liquid fuel that was probably not used at
the time of the fiery furnace. Pitch is a very viscous naturally occurring
petroleum material that was used as a sealant in antiquity to keep liquids
inside pottery, but was not used as a fuel. While brush (twigs and
branches) is a solid fuel, it does not have a high enough heating value to
use in a furnace, although it could have been used to make the charcoal
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that was used in furnaces at that time. Therefore the fuel specified in v. 46
is not likely what was used in the fiery furnace. Rand suggested that
bitumen, which was readily available around Babylon and very
combustible, was the fuel used in the furnace. This is also unlikely, as
there is little evidence of the use in any early period of petroleum for
heating purposes. The fuel used in the furnace was likely a solid
consisting of either some type of biomass or charcoal, which is made by
heating biomass until it decomposes into primarily carbon. While other
fuels were used in antiquity, biomass and charcoal were the most common.
Biomass was commonly used to make pottery, quicklime, and glass, while
charcoal was more commonly used to smelt ores. The most common fuels
are hydrocarbons, which contain both hydrogen and carbon. When these
two elements fully react with O2, they form H2O and CO2. Those products
are considered to be inerts, compared with fuels and oxidizers. Oxygen is
the most common oxidizer. Normal air consists of ~21% oxygen by
volume. In addition to H2O and CO2, the largest component in the
products of combustion is N2, which is also an inert gas and the largest
single component by far in air (~79% by volume). Other common
components in the products from the combustion of a hydrocarbon include
some excess O2 and some trace pollutants such as CO and nitrogen oxides
(NOx). When combusting a solid fuel, such as was probably used in the
fiery furnace, particulates are usually produced as well. These may be
composed of a wide range of elements depending on what constituents are
present in the solid fuel that do not burn, such as ash and heavy metals.
Particulates produced during solid fuel combustion normally contain soot,
primarily in the form of carbon that is not fully reacted. Unburned
particulates are ejected from the exhaust stack of a furnace in the form of
smoke and can often be seen for some distance. This was likely the case
for the fiery furnace, which means the threat of being thrown into the
furnace would have been very real for the onlookers, who probably saw
the smoke from the furnace from great distances. Forced draft and
natural draft are two general methods of supplying air for combustion to a
furnace. Forced draft involves some type of device to force the air into the
combustion process. Today that is done using electrically powered fans
and blowers. Before the advent of electricity, human–powered bellows
were a form of forced draft. The other method for supplying air is by
natural draft caused by hot combustion products rising, because they are
lighter than air, and then pulling in ambient air. This is how most fossil–

fuel–powered appliances, such as stoves and heaters, work today as they
do not have fans to move the combustion air. In antiquity, furnaces were
nearly always natural draft. The normal configuration of a furnace is to
have the exhaust at the top because hot combustion products naturally rise
due to buoyancy. A so–called natural draft furnace does not use any fans
or blowers either to supply the air for combustion or to remove the
products of combustion. Since fans and blowers were not available at the
time of the narrative, an analogous device would have been a bellows. As
the exhaust gases exit the furnace, air is drawn into the furnace because of
the negative pressure created by the rising hot gases. A natural draft
furnace has at least one or more openings on the side and/or the bottom to
provide enough air for combustion. The openings for a properly designed
furnace should be near the fuel so that air can mix with the fuel for
efficient combustion. Unless the fiery furnace was elevated so that air
could enter from below the fuel, the likely configuration would have been
to have openings on the sides in the vicinity of the fuel. The typical
products from the combustion of any type of fuel in a furnace do not
normally contain enough oxygen to sustain life. The theoretical amount of
air to fully combust a fuel is referred to as the stoichiometric amount. In
actual practice more air than is theoretically needed for complete
combustion is provided because of imperfect mixing between the fuel and
the air. The most efficient operation is where the least amount of air for
complete combustion is provided so that the excess O2 level is kept as low
as possible while still fully combusting all the fuel. Using more air than
necessary reduces the thermal efficiency because the additional air is
heated to the exhaust gas temperature and carried out of the exhaust.
This also reduces the flame temperature because the additional air acts
like ballast by absorbing heat. In well–operated modern–day furnaces, the
typical level of O2 in the combustion products is ~3% by volume depending
on the fuel and operating conditions. Poorly operated furnaces may have
more than ~5% excess O2, but not normally more than ~10%. If the excess
O2 level is too high, the flames can become unstable and possibly even be
extinguished because the large amount of excess air quenches the flame.
So then, besides the intense heat in the fiery furnace, several other things
could have killed Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. One is the lack of
oxygen necessary for humans to breathe. Typical atmospheric air consists
of ~21% oxygen by volume and oxygen concentrations less than ~16% is
immediately dangerous to life and health. The atmosphere in a furnace
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would normally not have enough oxygen to support human life. Another
would have been CO poisoning leading to asphyxiation. Given the less
than ideal operating conditions for furnaces in antiquity, large amounts of
CO would have been produced because of incomplete combustion, which
is particularly a problem with solid fuels because of inadequate mixing
with combustion air. The problem would have been exacerbated in this
instance as the furnace operators likely used much more fuel than
normal in response to Nebuchadnezzar’s command to heat the furnace
seven times hotter. It would have been difficult to supply enough air and
adequately distribute that air to completely burn the fuel. If the fuel
contained any toxic components such as heavy metals, those exposed to the
combustion products could also have died from the toxic fumes. The
Aramaic word translated ‘furnace’ is a loanword from Akkadian utūnu. It
has been understood as referring to an oven used for baking bricks or
smelting (refining ore) metals, as a smelting and melting or heating
furnace, as smelting or making lime, and as a lime–kiln. No firm
archaeological knowledge exists that can describe the furnace. The words
‘furnace’ and ‘kiln’ are commonly used interchangeably today, though a
particular term is preferred in a given industry. For example, ‘kiln’ is
preferred in cement, lime, and ceramic production, while ‘furnace’ is
preferred in the metallurgical industries. Few details of the furnace are
given in this narrative. The furnace had an opening in the top through
which the three Jews were thrown (v. 22). Nebuchadnezzar saw four men
walking around in the furnace (v. 25). He likely would have been looking
through openings or doors in the side of the furnace and not on top of the
furnace, particularly after he saw his strongest soldiers killed by getting
too close to that opening. Depending on the type of furnace, there would
have been one or more doors on the side so that workers could
conveniently remove finished products. It might be asked, ‘Why was a
furnace there in the first place?’ It is unknown if it was used purely for
punishment as a type of crematory or for cremation. While the furnace
could have been built for the sole purpose of punishing those refusing to
bow down to the image, this is unlikely, particularly since it was large
enough for four men to walk around in, unless Nebuchadnezzar was
expecting many dissenters, which is doubtful. More likely it was an
existing furnace built for another purpose. It may have been the furnace
used to make the metal used in the giant image; this would explain its
close proximity to the statue. The production of metals such as bronze

would have required the construction of some type of furnace to achieve
the temperatures necessary to smelt the ore and produce liquid metal that
could be cast into shapes. Even if it was not used for any purpose other
than punishment, its construction would likely have been similar to typical
kilns and furnaces used at that time. While there are many ways to
categorize furnaces, one broad method is based on how the flames and the
load (the material being heated) are arranged. In a direct–heating
furnace, the flames come in direct contact with the load. There are many
examples of this type of furnace, such as a limekiln, where the limestone
and fuel are in alternating layers so that the heat is in close proximity to
the limestone to refine it into lime. The other broad category of furnaces is
indirect–heating, where the flames are separated from the load, usually to
prevent contamination of the final product. An example is a heat treating
furnace where the products of combustion are separated from the metals
being treated because those gases would reduce the product quality. An
argument for a direct–fired furnace in this passage is that the text states
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were walking around in the flames.
If it was a direct–heating furnace, both the flames and the material being
heated would have been inside the furnace. That would mean the fuel
would have been charged into the furnace and replenished with new fuel
as it was consumed. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were loaded into
the furnace from the top. While not required, the fuel may also have been
loaded through the same opening. However, there are some potential
problems in assuming a direct–fired furnace was used here. If the furnace
was made hotter than normal and was direct–fired, it would have been
loaded with much more fuel than usual. One can imagine the furnace
operators using as much fuel as possible to satisfy the tyrant king’s
command to make the furnace seven times hotter to make sure they were
not also thrown into the furnace. If it was a direct–fired furnace, this
would likely mean there would have been little room for four men to walk
around inside it. Besides that, the floor would have been completely
covered with fuel in various stages of burning. It would have been difficult
for the men to walk around on such an uneven surface. In addition, to
keep the flames going, fuel would have been continuously added, which
would have meant dumping fuel on the heads of the three youths if it
were a top–loading furnace. One solution to that problem would be that a
metal grate was present, similar to the grate for the altar used for
sacrificing to God (Exodus 27:4; 35:16; 38:4, 5, 30; 39:39), where the
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fuel is under the grate and the material being heated is on top of the grate.
The altar grating was made of brass. In the fiery furnace it could have
been made of a metal with a higher melting point such as iron. The grate
would have provided a level surface for the men to walk and would also
have allowed flames to come through. Another solution is that the heat for
the process was generated in a separate chamber connected to the main
chamber used to process the materials being heated. This would still be
considered a direct–fired furnace because the combustion products come
in direct contact with the load, even though those products are generated
in a separate chamber. Another possibility is that the fiery furnace was
heated indirectly, and the combustion gases did not come in contact with
the load at all. The most common configuration for this type of furnace in
antiquity would have had the flames outside the furnace, rather than
inside. That would have provided the space for the four men to walk
around inside the furnace. The level floor in an indirect–fired furnace
would have made walking around much easier, compared to a direct–fired
furnace with a non–uniform and constantly changing floor contour.
However, there are problems with assuming an indirect–fired furnace.
One is that the men would not have been literally walking through the
flames as stated in the text. Those outside the furnace remarked that the
three did not even smell of smoke after they exited the inferno (v. 27). This
would not have been surprising or miraculous if the furnace was indirectly
heated, as the flames would have been outside the furnace. More
importantly, indirect–fired furnaces were not used in antiquity for the
production of materials such as lime, bronze, or iron. Therefore the fiery
furnace was probably directly heated, but with a separate chamber to
generate the heat that was connected to the chamber with the load. There
were two primary uses of furnaces in antiquity: to produce metals from
raw ore and to reheat refined metals to make a final product. Refining
metals from ore is typically done in a smelting furnace. One of the earliest
known smelting furnaces was excavated in the southern Sinai region in
Israel in 1965. This ceramic bowl furnace was used to smelt copper and
is dated at approximately 3500 BC. Charcoal was found with the furnace
and was likely its fuel. Copper ore was placed in a ceramic crucible inside
the furnace. The ore was heated and melted to make impurities rise to the
top, where they could be skimmed off. The purified copper could be
alloyed with other materials such as tin to make bronze. Then the material
could be solidified into a bloom or ingot of metal that could be transported

to the point of use, or it could be cast directly into moulds to make specific
shapes. Similarly, the blooms or ingots could be remelted at the point of
use with the same type of furnace. Such a furnace could have been used
for the fiery furnace, where the crucible would have been removed to
make room for the human ‘load’. Copper is the primary element along
with tin to make bronze shapes such as statues. The earliest known
examples of tin in the archaeological record are from about 3000 BC
and are from Mesopotamia. The furnace in this narrative could have been
a copper smelting furnace used to make a bronze statue that was covered
with gold, rather than being made of solid gold. However, smelting
furnaces would normally have been located close to the ore to minimize
transportation. It is therefore unlikely that the fiery furnace was used for
smelting. Further, smelting furnaces were typically direct–fired with the
fuel in direct contact with the ore. The other primary use of a furnace was
to re–heat metals that had been previously processed from ores so that
they could be hot–worked into the desired shape, or to melt metals so that
they could be cast into the desired shape. For a project as large as making
a gigantic statue, a large furnace probably was built near the job site. This
means that metal produced from ore by smelting furnaces could have been
transported to the plain of Dura to be heated and/or remelted into the
desired shapes. In the case of hot working, a metal is heated close to its
melting point, where it is more pliable and easily shaped than when it is at
ambient temperatures. Sprengling suggested that the furnace was ‘a
truncated cone of clay hollowed out, a sort of volcanic crater, with a hole
at the bottom to start the fire and secure a draught’ where the escapees
walked out through the draft hole in the bottom of the furnace. No
explanation was provided for this suggestion and no archaeological
evidence has been found to support that furnace design. Sanders argued
it was not actually a furnace, but a pit used by ritual firewalkers in
religious ceremonies. Sanders argues this was not intended to be
punishment but rather a sacrifice to the gods, as punishment by fire would
have been blasphemous for someone worshiping certain gods such as
Moloch and Baal. This seems highly unlikely, given Nebuchadnezzar’s
reaction to the disobedience of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. Such
a trench or depression in the ground would normally have been at a
relatively low temperature because of the high heat losses, absent an
insulated enclosure. The temperature could be easily raised by adding
pitch, naphtha, and brushwood. Sanders further argued this was not
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designed to be punishment by Nebuchadnezzar, as that would have been a
defilement of the sacred fire. However, no biblical evidence supports such
an interpretation. Some believe the furnace was like a limekiln. The
earliest excavated limekiln dates to approximately 2450 BC in
Mesopotamia. The temperature in a modern limekiln is ~1150°C. One
argument for a limekiln is that limekilns may have been used by the
Persians for executing criminals. Another argument is that a common
geometry for this type of furnace has a large hole at the top for both
loading materials and for combustion products to escape. This type of
limekiln is a shaft (cylindrical) furnace where both the raw materials to
make the lime and the fuel to achieve the desired temperatures are loaded
from the top and gradually flow toward the bottom. The air for combustion
enters from the bottom and flows toward the top. The air reacts with the
down–flowing fuel to produce combustion products that naturally rise
because of their elevated temperature and flow out the top of the shaft.
This type of furnace does have openings at the bottom both for the
combustion air to be drafted into the furnace and to extract the final
product from the furnace. A consideration is the height of such a shaft
furnace. The king wanted the three men to die from the fire and not from
the fall into the furnace; so the height of the furnace was likely not
excessive. Owens wrote, ‘The furnace was a ‘beehive kiln’ fed through a
perpendicular shaft from the top. There was a side opening near the
bottom for extracting the fused lime.’ Owens gave no reference for this
supposition. Early limekilns were constructed of stone, often on the side
of a hill where fuel and limestone were loaded from the top. This
configuration could explain how the men were loaded into the top by the
soldiers, while the king could have been on the lower level to see them
walking around in the kiln. However, the event took place on the ‘plain of
Dura,’ which implies a flat area. Scaffolding or a ladder could have been
used to make additions to the top of the furnace, although not very
conveniently, given the quantity and weight of materials that would have
been loaded into such a large furnace. Another question is why a limekiln
would be located there, unless it was being used to make concrete for
construction projects. Brick kilns and smelters in ancient Mesopotamia
were often large enough for several people and had openings in the top
where materials could be added and openings in the bottom where finished
products could be removed. Baldwin wrote, ‘Furnaces in Babylon were
connected with the firing of bricks (Genesis 11:3), which were widely used

in the absence of stone. The fuel was charcoal which, given the needed
draught, produced the high temperatures required at the brick–kiln and at
the ironsmith’s forge (Isaiah 44:12). Some large brick–kilns have been
excavated outside Babylon.’ Buchanan held that the furnace was an oven
like those used for baking. It would have been shaped like a half globe
with a flat bottom. The walls for that type of furnace were thick and made
of clay to retain heat. Bakers would heat the furnace and then open a door
at ground level to put in the loaves for baking. But, this does not seem to
be like Nebuchadnezzar’s furnace. The temperature in a baking oven is
much lower than in furnaces used for producing metals. If
Nebuchadnezzar was planning to punish dissenters, he would likely have
chosen a much hotter metal production furnace. He obviously thought
about the temperature of the furnace. Why would he have used a lower–
temperature oven? Also his furnace would have to have been abnormally
large compared with typical ovens. While this is not impossible, what
would have been done with such an oversized oven when it was not being
used for cremations? Several aspects of the fiery furnace must be
considered here. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were tied up and
thrown like logs into the furnace by King Nebuchadnezzar for failing to
bow down and worship a golden image (vv. 19–27). They were bound in
their clothes, which would have been another source of fuel that
normally would have made them burn even faster. The three were not
burned, however, and in fact they were not even singed. The soldiers who
threw them into the fire were killed by the heat. The irony is that the
tormentors experienced the torment planned for their prisoners, who were
not delivered from the fire but in the fire. The fire burned through the
ropes that bound the prisoners without burning them. Nebuchadnezzar and
his officials were amazed that the three Hebrews did not even smell of fire.
Apparently God did not alter the fire, since the soldiers were consumed,
but somehow he protected the three conscientious objectors. Did their
bodies and clothes temporarily become flame retardant? How did they
even breathe in a hot smoky furnace that would normally not have enough
oxygen in it for people to survive? This miracle would have been very
important to the Babylonians because of the importance of the god of
fire, Iz–bar, in their pantheon of gods. Nebuchadnezzar asked for the
furnace to be heated seven times hotter than normal. A lower temperature
would have been more torturous, while a higher temperature would have
incinerated the Hebrews as it did the soldiers who bound them. The
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purpose of the increased heat may have been to try to keep the God of
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego at bay. The king may have been even
angrier than usual because the three Jews refused to obey his command,
or he may have been simply annoyed at the ingratitude of the three.
Solomon warned about the consequences of making a king angry
(Proverbs 20:2). The reason Nebuchadnezzar requested the loyalty oath
was in response to a recent rebellion in his empire that had been quelled.
If that was the case the rebellion would have been foremost in his mind
and failure to be obedient would have evoked a very strong response
from the king. Apparently the furnace was already heated and ready to go
when Nebuchadnezzar gave the command to heat it even hotter. This may
have been because it was normally used for other things, because it was
kept warm even when not in use to reduce the delay in heating it again
when needed, or because Nebuchadnezzar or his officials thought some
might disobey the king’s order to bow down to the golden image. A
number of things can be done to increase the temperature in a furnace.
One is to use more fuel. Another is to use a fuel with a higher heating
value. In ancient times that might mean replacing a fuel like wood with
charcoal, which burns hotter. In any case the command to heat the
furnace seven times hotter is most likely hyperbole, or a proverbial
expression (Proverbs 24:16; 26:16) and should not be taken literally.
Some argue this is an idiomatic way of saying ‘as hot as possible.’
However, even if this was hyperbolic, the furnace was almost certainly
hotter than normal as it killed the soldiers who threw the victims into the
furnace. Three explanations may be given as to what ‘seven times hotter’
refers to, if it is to be taken literally. The temperature to melt pure copper
and pure gold is 1085°C and 1064°C. In the presence of tin, the melting
point of copper is reduced to ~950°C, where copper alloyed primarily with
tin is used to make bronze. The furnace temperature must be hotter than
the required melting temperature because heat transfers only from hotter
materials to colder materials, requiring a furnace operating temperature
of ~1100°C = 1373K. When comparing temperatures, the absolute
temperature (in Kelvins) should be used. As another point of reference,
brick kilns from that time period operated at temperatures ~850–950°C.
Seven times a furnace temperature of 1373K would be 9611K (9338°C),
which is much hotter than the sun’s surface temperature and was not
possible using technology available at that time. A plasma today can
reach those temperatures. Even if such temperatures had been reached, no

materials were available to make a furnace that would have been able to
withstand those temperatures without being destroyed. Therefore ‘seven
times hotter’ cannot be understood literally as referring to temperature. A
second possibility is that Nebuchadnezzar referred to seven times more
heat flux. There are three common forms of heat transfer: conduction,
convection, and radiation. In furnaces the predominant form of heat
transfer is thermal radiation. The heat flux by radiation is dependent on
the 4th power of the absolute temperature of the source. In a furnace the
two primary heat sources are the flames and the hot walls. Assume the
flame and furnace walls are at the above estimated temperature of 1373K
(1100°C). The thermal radiation inside a furnace is a complicated
calculation, but in this case the parameter of interest is the change in
temperature necessary to produce seven times more heat flux. All other
parameters, such as emissivity and the view factor, can be assumed to be
the same and therefore cancel out when calculating the absolute
temperature before and after the heat flux is increased seven times. An
absolute temperature of 2233K (1960°C) would be needed to increase the
radiant heat flux by seven times, assuming all other variables remained
the same. This is challenging but possible with today’s technology, but
would not have been possible with the technology available at the time of
this narrative. This makes the literal ‘seven times’ unlikely. A third
possibility refers to the type and/or amount of fuel used. One variant of
this possibility is that the soldiers could have used seven times more fuel
than normal. This would not have been a trivial modification to the typical
routine because the fuel would have taken up much more room. However,
this is the most likely meaning of the phrase ‘seven times hotter’ if it is to
be taken literally. This would have increased the energy density (J/m3 of
furnace volume) by approximately seven times, as the energy in the form of
heat would have been increased by seven times while the volume of the
furnace would have remained the same. However, it is unlikely the
existing furnace was constructed to handle seven times the normal
amount of fuel. Given that the furnace was probably already hot and
that Nebuchadnezzar was impatient, there would not have been time to
modify the furnace to accommodate that much additional fuel. Another
variation of this possibility is that other fuels with more energy density
could have been used to either supplement or replace the normal fuel,
which was probably charcoal. Sanders suggested pitch, naphtha, and
brushwood; however, as previously discussed, that is unlikely, as these
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fuels were not normally used in furnaces at that time and would not likely
have been readily available near the furnace. Therefore it does not seem
that seven times more fuel could have been used. Thus, to understand
the expression ‘seven times hotter’ as a use of hyperbole seems best.
Scholars debate whether a furnace was used as a means of punishment in
Babylon before and during Nebuchadnezzar’s reign. According to Holm
the documented use of furnaces for punishment in the Near East during
this time period is rare. There are no real parallels to Daniel 3 in Persian
practices, but the practice of burning people in furnaces was common in
Egypt. Beaulieu notes that execution by burning was practiced in
Mesopotamia as punishment for breaking certain laws, with three specific
documented cases where people were executed by being thrown into a
furnace. Alexander showed that based on a letter from ancient Babylon, a
Babylonian king 1,200 years before Nebuchadnezzar decreed the
punishment of a slave by burning in a furnace. Of the significance of this
form of punishment, Edlin wrote, ‘The horror of such a death adds to the
drama of the story. Aside from the excruciating suffering involved in
being burned alive, death by fire meant no honourable burial. One of the
greatest fears for ancient people comes true. The body is not properly
interred. Thus, the spirit never finds rest and succeeding generations do
not appropriately honour the deceased.’ The furnace was not
Nebuchadnezzar’s only form of punishment; he threatened his magicians,
conjurers, and sorcerers with being torn limb from limb if they failed to
interpret his dream (Daniel 2:2–5), and he threatened in this way anyone
who said anything offensive about the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and
Abednego after they came out of the fiery furnace unscathed (v. 29).
Several biblical passages besides Daniel 3 refer to burning people for
punishment, but none includes an explicit reference to a furnace. In
Genesis 38:24 Judah wanted to burn his daughter–in–law Tamar for
becoming pregnant through harlotry. According to Leviticus 20:14, if a
man married a woman and her mother, all three of them should be burned.
Leviticus 21:9 decrees that a priest’s daughter who was a harlot should
suffer the same fate. According to Jeremiah 29:21–23, God used
Nebuchadnezzar to roast the prophets Ahab and Zedekiah in the fire for
committing adultery with their neighbours’ wives and lying in the name of
Yahweh. It is unknown if they were burned in a furnace; possibly they
were cast into the same furnace as Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego.
Hartman believed it is more likely they were burned in a bonfire than in a

furnace. Hammer believed fire would spring out of the furnace when it was
stoked, which might suggest that the soldiers were accidentally killed when
the operators stoked the furnace. This seems unlikely. Nebuchadnezzar
chose some of the strongest men from his army to throw the objectors into
the furnace. The requirement for strong soldiers was to prevent any human
or divine intervention. The irony is that the soldiers who obeyed the king
were killed, whereas the three Jews who disobeyed the king were saved.
Some believe fire leaped out of the furnace and killed the soldiers. If the
furnace was loaded with much more fuel than normal and if bellows were
used to increase the air flow, this could explain flames leaping out of the
furnace. Scholia wrote, ‘The fire appears intelligent, as if it recognized
and punished the guilty.’ While this is possible, it is unlikely that the
soldiers who threw the three objectors into the furnace were killed
directly by a continuous fire, as they would not have knowingly walked
into flames. Some believe the furnace may have suddenly belched out fire
that consumed the soldiers. While this is possible, it is unlikely that would
have happened naturally because the fuel and air supply to the furnace
would not have changed rapidly enough for a sudden expulsion of fire.
Possibly there was a pocket or void in the bed of solid fuel that suddenly
collapsed, causing fire to temporarily and suddenly rise to greater heights.
Another possibility is that the soldiers were killed by the intense thermal
radiation coming from the furnace. The average radiation from the sun
reaching the Earth’s atmosphere is 1.35 kW/m2. However, much of this is
absorbed in the Earth’s atmosphere and much also does not reach a given
location depending on the angle of incidence and the latitude.
Considerable research has been done to investigate the levels of thermal
radiation produced by fires and the injuries to humans at various
radiation levels. Hymes and others presented a table of incident radiation
heat fluxes, exposure times, and the consequences to humans. Some
examples illustrate the data: 16.9 kW/m2 radiation for one minute or 5
kW/m2 for five minutes will cause 3rd–degree burns, while 21–53 kW/m2
for one minute will cause clothing to auto–ignite. No exposure times less
than one minute were reported. One may assume the soldiers did not
expose themselves to such intense radiation for even a minute; so the
radiation was likely at an even higher level. Eisenberg and others
estimated the radiation from the atomic bombs dropped on Nagasaki and
Hiroshima in World War II. They estimated that 99% of the population
was killed when exposed to radiation at 586 kW/m2 for 1.43 seconds in the
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open air (with no protection such as a building). This radiation level is at
least 434 times more than from the sun on a bright sunny day. Thermal
radiation levels of 37.5 kW/m2 would cause a human fatality. As stated
earlier, assuming the furnace temperature was ~1100°C = 1373K, the
blackbody radiation from the furnace opening would be ~200 kW/m2. A
large volume (the furnace) with a relatively small opening (the exhaust
at the top of the furnace) approximates a blackbody, an entity that
absorbs and radiates energy but does not reflect it. That alone would
have been enough to kill the soldiers. Rand suggested the soldiers were
not killed by fire coming out of the furnace, but by fumes containing
sulphur and other chemicals from burning bitumen in the furnace. As
previously suggested, besides being very hot, the gases coming out of the
furnace would not have sustained human life because of insufficient
oxygen. However, the text specifically states the soldiers were killed by
fire; so toxic fumes or asphyxiation was not the likely cause of their
deaths. An important property of controlled fires is that they can be used
to incinerate unwanted materials that are combustible (flammable). Waste
materials are commonly put into a refractory–lined high temperature
furnace containing one or more burners. Fuel and air are supplied to the
burners to produce heat to incinerate the load. In many cases the waste
load itself provides a significant portion of the energy for the process. For
example dry paper and wood products burn readily and release heat
during the process. Most organic materials containing carbon or hydrogen
can be incinerated, given sufficient time and temperature. It was
customary at that time to remove the clothes of those who were being
punished, which is why the passage emphasizes that Shadrach, Meshach,
and Abednego still had their clothes on when they were thrown into the
fire (v. 21). Seow wrote, ‘They are to be executed in the formal attire in
which they have come for the occasion.’ These clothes would have been
highly flammable. Even today’s fire–retardant clothing would not protect
someone thrown into a very hot furnace. Buchanan noted that the only
non–miraculous explanation for the three objectors not being incinerated
is that they would have to have been wearing special asbestos suits with
oxygen tanks. Besides the fact that asbestos is carcinogenic and can no
longer be used, it would not have protected them from the flames either
because the heat would have conducted through any suits unless there
was some means to keep them cool inside the suits such as a portable
refrigeration system. Oxygen tanks would have been helpful so that they

would not have had to breathe the oxygen–deficient atmosphere inside
the furnace. While special protective clothing might provide a shield
against flames and not be flammable itself, eventually the heat would still
cause injury or death. Unless there is something to remove the heat, a
person in a furnace will eventually get to the same temperature as the
furnace. The three naysayers were bound and thrown into the top of a
superheated furnace. While the soldiers who tossed them in were killed,
the three prisoners were not. Whatever was used to bind them, probably
ropes, fell off, and they could walk around unfettered in the bottom of the
firestorm. Regarding the rescue, Lucas made the point that the three men
were not saved from the fiery furnace but were kept safe inside it. It is
beyond the laws of physics to explain this miracle based solely on natural
laws. Somehow the three who refused to bow to the king’s statue were
protected from the intense heat, the oxygen–deficient atmosphere, CO
poisoning, and possibly even from toxic fumes generated during
combustion of the fuel. The 4th being inside the blazing chamber was able
to protect Yahweh’s followers despite the king’s best efforts to destroy
them. Although no timeline is given in the narrative, the three protesters
were seen walking around in the furnace and were certainly in it long
enough to be killed under normal circumstances. While God could have
saved them differently, the method he chose was spectacular. God could
have prevented them from being thrown into the furnace in the first place,
or he could have put out the fire in the furnace if he had wanted to. After
the rescue Nebuchadnezzar threatened death to anyone who spoke
anything against Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego’s God and helped the
three heroes to prosper (vv. 29–30). This is the last these three are heard
from in the bible. In conclusion, the furnace most likely refers to a large
directly fired furnace where the fuel was burned in a separate chamber
and the combustion products flowed into the main heating chamber. This
type of furnace was probably used to remelt metals such as bronze and
gold that were used to make the statue in the plain of Dura. Therefore the
best understanding of ʾattûn appears to be a heating or melting furnace.
The fuel was likely biomass or charcoal. Nebuchadnezzar’s command to
heat the furnace seven times hotter was probably a hyperbole to mean ‘as
hot as possible.’ Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were not only saved
from the conflagration, but also from asphyxiation, CO poisoning, and
possibly from other toxic fumes generated during the combustion process.
This further heightens the magnitude of this spectacular miracle.
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Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego are not listed in the Hebrews 11 hall of
faith, but they easily could have been. However, many scholars believe
‘quenched the power of fire’ (Hebrews 11:34) is an indirect reference to
the fiery furnace. They were fully prepared to die for their convictions.
Many believers have been martyred for their faith throughout history,
including some who like Polycarp were burned by fire. God does not
always save the believer from pain and suffering for his sake. This
narrative is a powerful polemic against idolatry. This narrative is also an
example of what the apostle Peter wrote, ‘In this you greatly rejoice, even
though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by
various trials, so that the proof of your faith, being more precious than
gold which is perishable, even though tested by fire, may be found to
result in praise and glory and honour at the revelation of Jesus Christ’ (1
Peter 1:6–7), and ‘Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal among
you, which comes upon you for your testing, as though some strange thing
were happening to you’ (1 Peter 4:12). The faith of Shadrach, Meshach,
and Abednego was literally tested by fire. God could have saved them by
simply keeping them out of the fire, but instead he chose to send a 4th
person to be with them in the fire. One of his divine angelic servants was
literally in the fire with those willing to die rather than serve a false god.
Unlike Nebuchadnezzar’s inanimate golden statue, Shadrach, Meshach,
and Abednego’s God not only was alive, but also was glorified through
this matchless event in biblical history.”
Tertullian [2nd century] says: “God shall wipe away all tears from their
eyes, and there shall be no more death and no more corruption, it being
chased away by incorruption, even as death is by immortality [Revelation
21:4]. That the raiment and shoes of the children of Israel remained
unworn and fresh for the space of 40 years, that the fires of Babylon
injured neither the cloaks nor the trousers of the three young men, that
Jonah was swallowed by the monster of the deep, in whose belly whole
ships were devoured and after 3 days was vomited out safe and sound—to
what faith do these notable facts bear witness, if not to that which ought
to inspire in us the belief that they are proofs of our own future integrity
and perfect resurrection? They are written that we may believe both that
God is more powerful than all natural laws about the body, and that he
shows himself the preserver of the flesh the more emphatically, in that
he has preserved for the body even its very clothes and shoes.”

Augustine [4th century Bishop of Hippo] concludes: “Human weakness
uses its acquaintance with things experienced to measure divine works that
are beyond its experience and thinks it has made a keen observation when
it says, ‘If there is flame, it is hot; if it is hot, it burns; if it burns, then it
burned the bodies of the three men thrown into the fiery furnace by the
wicked king.’ If then even those who might not understand the idea of
divine works still believe that a miracle was wrought on these three men,
why should we then not believe that he who prevented those bodies from
being consumed by the fire also prevented his body from being consumed
by fire or famine or disease or old age or any other of the forces by
which corruption usually breaks down human bodies? But, if anyone
says that incorruption against the fire was not added to the flesh of the
three men, but that the power of the destruction was taken away from the
fire itself, why do we fear that he who took away the ability of the fire to
destroy, not make flesh that could not be destroyed? The divine power is
able to remove whatever qualities he wills from that visible and palpable
nature of bodies, while some qualities remain unchanged; so he is able to
add unwearying strength to mortal members, preserving the characteristic
marks of their form, even when they have died because of the corruption of
mortality, so that the mortal appearance is there, but wasting disease is
absent; motion is there, but fatigue is not; the ability to eat is there, but
the necessity of hunger is not.”
7) Why did Nebuchadnezzar decree to honour God? (3:28–30)
Starting with v. 28, we read: “Nebuchadnezzar spoke up and announced:
‘Blessed be the God of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego! He sent his
angel to deliver his servants who trusted in him. They disobeyed the king’s
command and were willing to risk their lives in order not to serve or
worship any god except their own God.’”
So, Nebuchadnezzar’s response shows some progress in his own spiritual
understanding, although it comes short of true faith and personal salvation.
First, when he said, “Blessed be the God,” he used the singular form,
indicating he understand the biblical concept of God as being monotheistic
[although he himself remained a polytheist]. But, he correctly surmises
that it is “the God of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego,” not his own god.
So, he credits Israel’s God with rescuing the three Hebrews by sending
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“his angel” to help them, but this is his interpretation of the event. The
Aramaic š ziḇ [for “deliver”] is a loanword from Akkadian šūzubu [or
“rescue”]. Thus, the king takes notice of their faith, because they “trusted
in him.” Apparently their faith made an indelible impression upon the
king, and he felt compelled to comment upon it. Then the king took note of
the courage that stemmed from their faith in Israel’s God. They were
willing to defy the king’s edict [even at the point of death], because it was
more important for them to obey God than man [even if that man were the
most exalted king on earth]. Thus, the king witnessed their dedication.
Their worship of Israel’ God was not for sale at any price, and they would
not compromise on this fundamental matter. So, the king was making a
tacit admission that he had been wrong when he earlier said, “what god is
there who can deliver you from my power?” This is why he acknowledged
his respect for them personally. He did not see them as cowards, but as
courageous heroes. Their faith had been severely put to the test, but they
had remained faithful, and they gained the admiration of this pagan king.
Next in v. 29, we read: “So I decree that people from any nation or
language who say anything against the God of Shadrach, Meshach and
Abednego will be destroyed and their house reduced to rubble, because
there is no other god who can save like this.”
The king even went so far as to issue an edict calling on all the subjects of
his empire to respect Israel’s God. In fact, notice that this entire chapter
begins with a decree and then ends with another decree! He did not forbid
them to worship their Babylonian deities, but they were not allowed to
utter malicious statements about “the God of Shadrach, Meshach and
Abednego.” To do so would bring severe punishment: dismemberment and
loss of home and property. Nebuchadnezzar was beginning to see the
uniqueness of Israel’s God, for he even admitted that no other deity could
deliver the way God had done, not even his gods Marduk and Ishtar! Thus,
his edict makes Judaism a legal state–recognized and protected religion
despite its monotheism! This similarly happened later when Julius Caesar
recognized Judaism as a legitimate religion in the Roman Empire
[Josephus, Ant. 14:190–195]. So, this decree expressed a reversal of his
previous opinion by acknowledging God’s ability to save. This echoes an
Old Testament theme: God is superior to the gods [Exodus 15:11; 18:11; 1
Chronicles 16:25; 2 Chronicles 2:5; Psalm 86:8; 95:3; 96:4; 135:5].

Terry Brensinger [21st century biblical scholar] says: “The contrast
between the two pronouncements is significant. In unit one, Shadrach,
Meshach, and Abednego refuse to worship the gods of Nebuchadnezzar,
alluding instead to the primacy of their God (vv. 16–18). In unit two,
Nebuchadnezzar elevates the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego,
alluding to the inadequacy of his gods (vv. 28–29). As a result, the same
‘peoples, nations, and tongues’ who were instructed to bow down to the
golden statue are now threatened if they utter so much as a word against
the God of these Jews. True to form, Nebuchadnezzar is still giving orders,
but the rules of the game have undergone a thorough reversal.”
Finally in v. 30, we read: “Then the king promoted Shadrach, Meshach,
and Abednego within the province of Babylon.”
We finally witness these three young men being rewarded. The Aramaic
ṣᵊlaḥ [for “promoted”] can also mean “cause to prosper, make successful.”
This would probably have included a promotion in rank, but could also
have meant other forms of prosperity such as material reward. The LXX
took the liberty to elaborate on this verse, describing them as leaders and
rulers. For example, the LXXΟ reads: “and deemed them worthy to be
leaders of all the Jews in his kingdom.” Likewise, the LXXθ reads: “and
deemed them worthy to govern all the Judeans who were in his kingdom.”
However, there is no support for this addition in the Aramaic text.
Nevertheless, at the very least, this would have included restoration to the
positions they had been given [recall Daniel 2:49]. Perhaps they received
other rewards in the form of material gain. In any case, they would
continue as prominent officials in the Babylonian Empire.
Augustine [4th century Bishop of Hippo] says: “If past events in the
prophetic books serve as a figure of future ones, in the king named
Nebuchadnezzar two periods were foreshadowed: that during the time of
the apostles and the present one in which Christ is now living. For in the
times of the apostles and martyrs that part was fulfilled that was
foreshadowed when the king forced devout and upright men to adore an
idol and when they refused had them thrown into a fire. Now, however,
that part is fulfilled that was prefigured in the same king when he was
converted to the true God and decreed for his realm that whoever
blasphemed the God of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego should suffer
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due penalties. Therefore, the first part of the king’s reign signified the
earlier periods of impious kings, when Christians suffered instead of the
impious, but the latter part of that king’s reign signified the period of later
faithful kings under whom the impious suffered instead of the Christians.”
Chrysostom [4th century Bishop of Constantinople] concludes: “Blessed be
God who has sent his angel. For how can it be otherwise than astonishing
for the emperor of the world, with so many arms around him, and legions,
and generals, and viceroys, and consuls, and land and sea subject to his
sway, to be despised by captive children; for the bound to overcome the
binder and conquer all that army? Neither was there any power in the
king and his company to do what they would, no, not even with the
furnaces for an ally. But, they who were naked, and slaves, and strangers
and few (for what number could be more contemptible than three?),
being in chains, vanquished an innumerable army. For already now was
death despised, since Christ was henceforth about to sojourn in the world,
and as when the sun is on the point of rising, even before his rays appear
the light of the day grows bright; so also when the Sun of righteousness
was about to come, death henceforth began to withdraw himself. What
could be more splendid than that theatre? What more conspicuous than
that victory? Contemplate with me how the king at first proclaims the
Arbiter of the contest: ‘Blessed be God.’ This he proclaims as regards the
power of God. He speaks also of the virtue of the combatants: ‘Because
they trusted in him.’ Could anything equal the virtue of this? Before this,
when they said, ‘We will not serve your gods,’ he was inflamed more
fiercely than the very furnace; but now, when by their deeds they had
taught him this, he was so far from being indignant that he praised and
admired them for not having obeyed him! So good a thing is virtue that it
has even its enemies themselves to applaud and admire it! These young
men had fought and conquered, but the vanquished party gave thanks that
the sight of the fire had not terrified them but that the hope in their Lord
had comforted them. For this reason he both applauds those who had
despised him, and passing by so many governors, kings and princes, those
who had obeyed him, he stands in admiration of the three captives and
slaves who derided his tyranny! For they did these things not for the sake
of contention, but for the love of wisdom; not of defiance, but of devotion;
not being puffed up with pride, but on fire with zeal. For great indeed is
the blessing of a hope in God.”

In summary, the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego stands at the
head of a long tradition of faithful people who suffered and even died for
their commitment to God. While the three men survived, many of their
successors did not. History attests several times of intense persecution of
God’s people, beginning with the 2nd century b.c. assault against the Jews
by Antiochus IV Epiphanes, a megalomaniac who imposed Hellenism on
Jerusalem and attempted to eradicate Judaism in the process. The
apocryphal books of Maccabees tell harrowing stories of the Jewish
struggle for survival during the days leading up to the Maccabean revolt in
167–164 b.c. One of the most enduring stories is that of a mother and her
seven sons, tortured and killed by Antiochus for their refusal to eat pork [2
Maccabees 7; 4 Maccabees 8]. While the historicity of this story is
questionable, it likely derived from actual events. Certainly the torture it
describes is known from the ancient world, and after the Crusades and
Holocaust, we have no reason to doubt the terrible inhumanity that the
author of 2 Maccabees ascribes to those who persecuted the Jews. When
the devout mother and her sons refused to eat swine’s flesh, one of the
brothers spoke for the group, declaring to the king that they were
“prepared to die rather than transgress the laws of our fathers” [2
Maccabees 7:2]. Much as the bold defiance of Shadrach, Meshach, and
Abednego had impelled an enraged Nebuchadnezzar to crank up the
furnace, the son’s confession infuriated Antiochus, who “commanded
some to heat pans and cauldrons” [2 Maccabees 7:3]. In the gruesome
account that follows, Antiochus tortured the sons one by one in front of the
others: scalping and mutilating them, tearing out their tongues, and then
frying them in a pan until they finally died. One after another, the sons
stood firm, each variously proclaiming confidence in God’s justice, future
restoration, resurrection, and the demise of Antiochus [2 Maccabees 7:8–9,
11, 14, 16–19]. In a face–saving act of desperation, Antiochus offered the
last son rewards if he would give up the law of his ancestors. He also
implored the mother to convince her 7th son to give in. But, the efforts of
Antiochus were for naught: subjected to even greater torture, the 7th son
remained resolute to death, and finally the bereaved mother was also
killed. The impact of this story seems to have transcended its time and
place, and later accounts of martyred Christians took on its shape. Like the
unnamed mother of the 2nd century b.c., the pious widow Symphorosa had
seven sons, and living during Roman emperor Hadrian’s rule [117–138
a.d.], Symphorosa was widowed when Hadrian beheaded her husband for
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refusing to sacrifice to Roman idols. Then late in his life the emperor
planned a dedication for his new country palace, but he received an
unsettling message from his gods: “The widow Symphorosa and her seven
sons daily torment us by invoking their God; if they sacrifice to the idols,
we promise to be favourable to your vows.” So, intent on sparing himself
any misfortune by failing to please the gods, Hadrian seized the widow
and her sons and “exhorted them at first in mild terms to sacrifice.” But,
when Symphorosa reminded the emperor that her own husband and
brother–in–law refused to offer sacrifices and paid the price, the emperor
understood her perfectly. No more mild terms: “Either sacrifice to the
most powerful gods, with thy sons, or thou thyself shalt be offered up as a
sacrifice together with them.” Symphorosa welcomed the opportunity to be
a sacrifice, but not to Hadrian’s gods: “Your gods cannot receive me as a
sacrifice; but if I am burnt for the name of Jesus Christ my death will
increase the torment which your devils endure in their flames. But can I
hope for so great a happiness as to be offered with my children as a
sacrifice to the true and living God?”
Thus, Hadrian responded by having her beaten and hung by her hair in the
temple of Hercules. When that failed to sway her, he had her thrown into
the river with a rock around her neck. Hadrian then summoned her sons
and “exhorted them to sacrifice and not imitate the obstinacy of their
mother.” But, they had learned commitment well from their mother and
were not afraid of the emperor, who tied them to “stakes with engines and
pulleys” and pulled their joints apart. If the emperor thought this would
change their minds, he could not have been more wrong. Rather, it had the
reverse effect: “far from yielding under the violence of their tortures, the
young noblemen were encouraged by each other’s example, and seemed
more eager to suffer than the executioners were to torment.” So, the
emperor ordered their deaths in seven different ways: slashed throat,
stabbed chest, lanced heart, wounded belly, stabbed back, severed sides,
and “being cleft asunder into two across the chest from the head down.”
Likewise, a similar fate befell a 3rd devout widow and her seven sons a few
years later when Marcus Aurelius was emperor of Rome in 161–180 a.d.
The family’s public witness attracted the attention of local priests, who
were sure their refusal to sacrifice to idols raised the ire of the gods and so
endangered the empire.

The complaint of the priests to the emperor prompted him to order Publius
[a prefect of Rome] to make sure the widow Felicitas and her sons offered
sacrifices to appease the offended gods [this is not the same
Felicitas/Felicity that was martyred with Perpetua in 3rd century Carthage].
When the verbal attempts by Publius failed to persuade the woman, he
beat her and summoned her sons, using “many artful speeches, mingling
promises with threats to induce them to adore the gods.” Like Antiochus
and Hadrian before him, Publius dealt with each son in turn, and like their
predecessors, the seven sons of Felicitas refused to bend the knee to any
other god. The obstinacy of the sons resulted in their imprisonment and
eventual death: the 1st was scourged, the 2nd and 3rd clubbed to death, the
4th thrown off a cliff, and the last three beheaded. Then ~4 months later,
Felicitas was beheaded. So, the degree to which these three stories are
history or legend should not give us pause. Such gruesome martyrdom has
also occurred under the so–called Islamic State. Thus, devoted followers of
Jesus have been suffering and dying gruesome deaths for centuries.
Whether the perpetrator was Nebuchadnezzar, Antiochus, Hadrian,
Publius, or ISIS, such sacrifices challenge us to consider what it means to
bear the name of Jesus. Would we be prepared to die rather than transgress
the laws of God? Does our witness attract anyone’s attention? Would we
go to our deaths with the name of Jesus on our lips? If God does not
deliver us, will we bow down? Idolatry was a besetting sin of God’s
people in Canaan. Keeping pace with their Canaanite neighbours, they set
up Asherah poles, Baals, and other idols, and then they bowed low before
the objects of wood and metal. God evicted Israel and Judah from their
land because they had gone after other gods. But, when captive Shadrach,
Meshach, and Abednego refused to bow before Nebuchadnezzar’s statue at
the risk of death, they demonstrated the strong stance against idolatry that
would characterize the Jews after the exile. In fact, archaeologists suggest
that the post–exilic Jews were cured of their infatuation with idols.
Ephraim Stern [21st century Israeli archaeologist] says: “Only a few
complete Persian–period sanctuaries have survived in Palestine or along
the Phoenician coast. We shall describe most of these here. During this
period, as in previous ones, they are divided into three types that are
continuations of old local tradition: (a) Large, central, city temples, the
most distinctive example of which is the so–called solar shrine at Lachish.
(b) Medium–sized sanctuaries that have been uncovered at many sites,
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sometimes (as at Dor) with more than one at a given site. Some fine
examples of this type are the sanctuary at Sarepta on the Phoenician coast
and those at Miẓpe Yammim in the Galilee and at Tel Michal (Makmish) in
the Sharon Plain. (c) Small (1 m2) chapels in which a sacred object stood:
an idol or a maẓẓebah (‘stela’) stone, sometimes a few stelae together. It
was impossible to enter such a chapel and worshipers remained outside,
leaving their offerings near the entrance. Each of these three types has
close analogies, in both plan and dimensions, in previous periods. There
can be no doubt that they perpetuate older traditions, not only in their
plans but also as regards their contents and cult objects. However, there is
one major difference between the Persian–period temples and those of the
Assyrian period: this is the surprising homogeneity of the finds. While
during the Assyrian period, Phoenician, Philistine, Judean, Edomite, and
Ammonite cults are distinguishable because each ethnos had its own
specific cult objects, during the Persian period this is no longer true. All
finds at all sites throughout the country are nearly similar. It is impossible
to say if a certain find comes from Idumaea, Philistia, Galilee, or even
Phoenicia, although the chief deities of each people remained distinct:
Qos in Idumaea, Ba al in Phoenicia, etc. Another difference is, perhaps,
even more meaningful: since the beginning of the Persian period, in all
the territories of Judah and Samaria, there is not a single piece of
evidence for any pagan cults! There are no sanctuaries (except, of course,
for the Jewish one in Jerusalem and the Samaritan one on Mount
Gerizim), no figurines, and no remains of any other pagan cultic objects.
This is in sharp contrast to the late Judean monarchic period. The only
possible exception is the continuation of apotropaic cults intended to ward
off evil spirits, bad luck, or disease. However, such cults are found almost
uninterruptedly among all ethnic groups in the country in all periods.
Some pagan motifs are depicted on the coins of Judah and Samaria. But, it
is unclear if they had any cultic significance or were merely copies of
motifs borrowed from the coins of neighbouring provinces of the empire.”
So, apparently the exile was remarkably effective: idolatry was no longer a
problem for God’s people. Nevertheless, they continued to struggle with
the subtle temptation to replace God, since the indictments by Jesus of his
Jewish contemporaries and their outright rejection of him [as the incarnate
2nd Yahweh] made it clear that idolatry was still a problem, and it remains
a problem for us today.

In many places around the world, people still bow before literal idols and
make excruciating sacrifices to please them. However, for most of us,
idolatry is more subtle. Food, technology, fitness, entertainment, none of
these things is bad. As reflections of human creativity, they are all part of
God’s good creation and so are God’s gifts to us. It is good for us to enjoy
what he has made and derive some satisfaction from them. They are not
usually the problem. In fact, idolatry is seldom located around us. Rather,
it lies within us. It is in the desperately wicked human heart, which is ever
reaching for something besides God to satisfy fully. So, the most pervasive
idol is human autonomy: the right to do what we want, how we want,
when we want, with whomever we want. If something makes us happy, we
are entitled to it. If something makes us unhappy, we are entitled to get rid
of it. Human autonomy is the ultimate god, and we worship it fervently!
Not even to save their skin would Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego
entertain the possibility of replacing God, but we do it for far less.
Ultimately, the point of the story is that God’s presence in torturous times
has been the hope of persecuted believers throughout history. Walking
through the darkest valleys is part of the course, but we have no evil to
fear: God is with us, and we have no enemy to fear, because God provides
our sustenance in their presence [Psalm 23]. The story of Shadrach,
Meshach, and Abednego ends in life. They faced the fire with God, who
protected them in the flames. But, not every account of persecution ends so
well. The voices of martyrs from all generations forbid us to say that the
captives were delivered because of their faith, as if God rewarded them by
saving them. So, the comfort of this story is not that the prisoners came out
alive [although their deliverance was cause for praise and thanks], but the
comfort is that God was with them in the fire. In other words, the Good
Shepherd of Psalm 23 faced his own fiery trial when he came to live
among us and to give his life for the sheep. His willingness to go through
that fire alone all the way to death made possible his permanent presence
among us through God’s Spirit. Thus, Jesus is with his brothers and sisters:
to death and beyond! In this truth we find the strength to be faithful.
Eugene Carpenter [21st century biblical scholar] concludes: “It is no
surprise that Nebuchadnezzar was moved to save face and issued a decree
in praise of this God—rather than foolishly denying the evidence. But, his
inward attitude and beliefs about how great he was did not change—at
least not for long—they only found another outlet. Irony abounds in
135
Daniel’s book. Nebuchadnezzar arrogantly commanded all people of
whatever ‘race or nation or language’ not to speak against, mock, or
blaspheme the God of these three Jewish exiles in any way—upon pain of
death. The entire purpose of the king against Shadrach, Meshach, and
Abednego had ended up topsy–turvy. The nations were made to recognize
the true God’s deliverance as it was publicized among the officials and
rulers under the auspices of the royal government of Babylon. As to the
image? Nothing more is said. There is no decree praising his image or
celebrating the success of the universal worship. The Jews were not
obliged to worship it. We are not further informed about the other races,
peoples, languages, and nations. Nebuchadnezzar let the subject drop from
his decrees. The authority and force of the image was certainly greatly
curtailed, to say the least. The promotion of Shadrach, Meshach, and
Abednego was a clear slap in the face for those who would have demoted
them. These persons could no longer dare speak in a derogatory manner
against these Jews, nor their worship of their God—the God who had
delivered not only Noah from a flood, Israel from Egypt and the Assyrians,
but even these three men from the furious Babylonian king’s decree.
Eventually, their God would deliver them from the fiery ordeals of the
exile itself. Jewish exiles now occupied some high influential positions in
the upper echelons of the governmental structures of their captors—the
mighty Babylonians. The Jews’ God was the God who rescues like no
other god! No greater message could have been trumpeted to the nations
or to Israel in exile in Babylon, or to the individual servant of the true God
who might have to give his life because of commitment to the God of
Israel. In addition, Nebuchadnezzar openly declared respect and
recognition for the God of Israel. Amazingly, he even praised the three
Jewish exiles for trusting their God and defying his command. This praise
and their subsequent promotion certainly sent a powerful message to
exiled Jews, and potentially for others as well.”
Summing Up …
Starting with vv. 1–7, Nebuchadnezzar builds an image he believes will
not fall that represents a kingdom that will avoid the pitfalls he saw in his
dream [recall Daniel 2:31–45]. He thinks forced unity and worship by his
various peoples will hold his kingdom together. The jealousy that arises in
the next segment shows how wrong he is.
 136

Next in vv. 8–12, the accusers of the Jews reveal the king’s purpose for
erecting the stele. It represents his rule over the nations God has given him
[recall Daniel 2:38], a gift he still credits to his gods. For an insecure king
trying to circumvent Daniel’s interpretation, this non–compliance is
extremely unwelcome. It means he does not have the unity he feels he
needs. The malicious men’s accusations also remind readers of the
continuing harsh realities and hard decisions Jewish exiles faced in
Babylon. Religious defilement and potential physical punishment confront
them [recall Daniel 1:8–16], and the threat of death continues to hang over
them here. Faith does not protect them from peril. Martyrdom is certainly
possible, though not inevitable.
Next in vv. 13–18, the three men’s confession matches John’s summary of
the martyrs [Revelation 12:11]. The men’s rejection of Nebuchadnezzar’s
demands provides the greatest resistance to tyranny believers can make.
Nebuchadnezzar can take their home, name, and profession from them, but
he cannot take away their faith in God. He cannot take their witness to
their God. He cannot remove the wise character they exhibit. Thus, they
testify to the kingdom that rises below all manmade images of gods and
world leaders, and will eventually make them crumble [recall Daniel 2:44–
45]. While types of resistance vary, this one is primary for believers, as
faithful persons have shown throughout the centuries. Those of us who
have not paid this price honour them, and must be prepared to respond as
they have if the necessity arises.
Finally in vv. 25–30, this presence emphasizes God’s unlimited power. He
can protect young trainees in Babylon by giving them wisdom and favour
[recall Daniel 1:3–20]. He can preserve a servant in a foreign court for
decades [recall Daniel 1:21]. He can reveal things hidden in the sleep of a
fearful king [recall Daniel 2:24–45], and he can use fire however he
wishes [v. 24]. As the God of heaven [recall Daniel 2:19], he can send
heavenly messengers to protect his faithful ones [v. 25]. This whole
chapter stresses the importance of loving witness to enemies. Everything
that has happened has been for Nebuchadnezzar’s benefit! However, he
does not convert. He recognizes the power of Israel’s God [vv. 28–29], but
still thinks he controls life and death, and even that he can assign the gods
their places in the world. He thinks God needs his protection [v. 29], so he
still has much to learn. The friends have also gone through this ordeal for
the sake of witness to the Chaldeans [their accusers] and for that of the
mass of officials who bowed without question. They are God’s servants,
called upon to love their neighbours, some of whom want them dead. They
show this servant love by trusting God, denying the king’s right to dictate
their worship and giving up their bodies if necessary [v. 28].

Next in vv.19–24, God does not stand aloof from history, and does not
refuse to get involved. Having given Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah to
Nebuchadnezzar [recall Daniel 1:1–2], here he protects their witness,
integrity, and dignity, the qualities people like Jehoiakim cast off. These
three men are not saved from the fiery furnace, but are kept safe in it.
Thus, this furnace episode connects with other passages, such as where the
Old Testament compares Israel’s time in Egyptian captivity like living in
an “iron–smelting furnace” [Deuteronomy 4:20; 1 Kings 8:51; Jeremiah
11:4], and where it promises that God will be with them through flood and
fire [Psalm 66:1–12; Isaiah 43:2]. God’s promise is to be with his people
[Exodus 3:12; Joshua 1:1–9; Jeremiah 1:17–19; Matthew 28:18–20].

THE HUMILIATION OF A PROUD
KING
Daniel 4
Opening Thought
1) What government leaders and elected officials would you classify as
genuine public servants in the past? Is your list a long one? Why?
2) Why is it so common for those with immense God–given talent and
those who are able to accomplish great things to forget the One ultimately
responsible for their success?
Background of the Passage
Daniel 4 continues the fascinating record of Nebuchadnezzar. After
conquering Judah and exiling its most gifted young people to Babylon
[recall Daniel 1], Nebuchadnezzar began having disturbing dreams that
could only be interpreted by Daniel, one of his captives [recall Daniel 2].
The dreams revealed the sovereignty of God over the nations and future
world events. But, Nebuchadnezzar was slow to acknowledge the authority
and supremacy of Israel’s God, for Daniel 3 records his gross idolatry and
the refusal of his Hebrew subjects to pay homage to the idol he had
erected. Even a miraculous deliverance by God produced only a token
expression of praise from Nebuchadnezzar’s lips [recall Daniel 3:28–29].
Thus, now Daniel 4 gives the record of God’s very painful and personal
humiliation of Nebuchadnezzar. Because of his stubborn pride, this world
leader was reduced to animal status. In this state he remained until at last
in humility he lifted his eyes to heaven. So, the message is clear here: since
God is preeminent, he will not give his glory to another [Isaiah 48:11].
Bible Passage
Read Daniel 4
Nebuchadnezzar’s Testimonial
1
AN OFFICIAL STATEMENT
FROM NEBUCHADNEZZAR
THE KING
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To the people of all nations and languages who live on earth. Peace
and prosperity to you! 2It gives me great pleasure to tell about the signs
and wonders that the Most High God has done for me. 3How great are his
signs! How powerful are his wonders! His kingdom is an eternal kingdom,
and his dominion lasts from generation to generation.
Nebuchadnezzar’s Dream
4
I, Nebuchadnezzar, was resting in my home and prospering in my
palace. 5I had a dream that made me afraid. The thoughts that went
through my mind while in bed and the visions in my head terrified me. 6So
I gave an order to bring in all of the advisors of Babylon so they would tell
me the interpretation of the dream. 7Then the diviners, enchanters,
Chaldeans, and astrologers came in, and I told them the dream. But they
could not reveal its interpretation to me. 8Eventually, Daniel appeared
before me. He is called Belteshazzar, in accordance with the name of my
god, and the spirit of the holy gods is within him. I told him my dream:
9
“Belteshazzar, chief of the diviners, since I know that the spirit of the
holy gods is within you, and no mystery too difficult for you, explain to
me the vision of my dream that I saw, along with its interpretation. 10This
is what I saw in the visions of my head while I was in bed: I was looking
and—listen carefully!—I saw a tree in the middle of the earth, the height
of which was very great. 11The tree grew large, became strong, and its top
reached the sky. It could be seen to the ends of the earth. 12Its foliage was
beautiful, its fruit bountiful, and its food sufficient for everyone. The
animals of the field found shade under it, the birds of the sky lived in its
branches, and every creature was fed from it. 13Then I saw in the visions of
my head while I was in bed—and take careful notice!—I saw a holy
observer descend from heaven. 14He called out aloud: ‘Cut down the tree
and cut off its branches. Strip off its foliage and scatter its fruit. Let the
animals get out from under it, and let the birds leave its branches.
15
Nevertheless, leave the stump and its roots in the ground, but bind it with
iron and bronze in the field grass. Let him be drenched with dew from the
sky, and let him graze with the animals in the grass of the earth. 16Let his
mind be changed from that of a man, and let him be given the mind of an
animal until seven seasons of time pass by for him. 17This order is
announced by the observers, and the holy ones declare the verdict, so that
the living may know that the Most High is sovereign over human
kingdoms and grants them to whomever he desires, and he places the least

important of men over them.’ 18This is the dream that I, King
Nebuchadnezzar, saw. Belteshazzar, tell me its meaning, since none of the
advisors in my kingdom can tell me its interpretation. But you are able to
do so because the spirit of the holy gods is in you.”
Daniel’s Interpretation
19
Then Daniel (also known as Belteshazzar) was greatly troubled for a
while and was terrified by his thoughts. The king said, “Belteshazzar,
don’t let the dream or its meaning terrify you.” Belteshazzar responded,
“Your majesty, if only the dream were about your enemies and its meaning
about those who oppose you! 20The tree that you saw, which grew large
and strong until its top reached the sky and became visible to the whole
earth 21with beautiful leaves and abundant fruit—enough food for
everyone—and under which wild animals of the field found shelter and the
birds of the air had nests in its branches—22it’s you, your majesty! You’ve
become great and strong, your greatness has grown to the heavens, and
your dominion reaches to the distant parts of the earth. 23Your majesty saw
a holy observer descending from heaven and saying, ‘Cut down the tree
and destroy it, but leave the stump in the ground, along with its roots,
bound with iron and bronze in the field grass. Let him be soaked with the
dew of the sky and live with the wild animals of the field until seven
seasons pass over him.’ 24This is the meaning, your majesty, and this is the
decree that the Most High has issued against his majesty, the king:
25
You’ll be driven from people, and you’ll live among wild animals of the
field. You’ll eat grass like cattle and be soaked with the dew of the sky
while seven years pass you by—until you realize that the Most High is
sovereign over human kingdoms and grants them to whomever he desires.
26
Just as it was ordered to leave the stump of the tree in the ground along
with its roots, so your kingdom will be restored to you when you realize
that Heaven rules over everything. 27Therefore, your majesty, may my
advice be acceptable to you: Stop your sinning, do what’s right, and put a
stop to your wickedness by showing kindness to the oppressed. Perhaps
your tranquillity will continue.”
The Dream Comes True
28
All of this happened to King Nebuchadnezzar. 29About a year later,
as the king was walking on the roof of the royal palace of Babylon, 30he
commented to himself, “Isn’t Babylon great? I’ve built a royal palace in it
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by my own might and power, for the sake of my majesty.” 31As these
words were being spoken by the king, a voice came out of heaven: “King
Nebuchadnezzar, this is declared to you: ‘The kingdom has been taken
from you! 32You’re to be driven away from people. You’re to live with the
wild animals of the field. You are to be made to eat grass like cattle, and
seven years will pass you by until you realize that the Most High is
sovereign over human kingdoms and grants them to whomever he
desires.’” 33The decree was fulfilled against Nebuchadnezzar immediately.
He was driven away from people to eat grass like cattle, and his body was
drenched with dew from the sky, until his hair grew like eagles’ feathers
and his nails like birds’ claws.
The King’s Sanity Returns
34
“When that period of time was over, I, Nebuchadnezzar, lifted my
eyes to heaven and my sanity returned to me. I blessed the Most High,
praising and honouring the one who lives forever: For his sovereignty is
eternal, and his kingdom continues from generation to generation. 35All
who live on the earth are nothing compared to him. He does what he
wishes with the heavenly armies and with those who live on earth. No one
can hold back his power or say to him, ‘What did you do?’ 36At that
moment I recovered my sanity, and my honour and majesty returned to
me, for the sake of my kingdom. My advisors and officials sought me out,
my throne was restored, and even more greatness than I had before was
added to me. 37In conclusion, I, Nebuchadnezzar, praise, exalt, and give
glory to the King of heaven: For everything he does is true, his ways are
just, and he is able to humble those who walk in pride.”
Understanding the Text
3) How does Nebuchadnezzar begin his decree to his people? (4:1–3)
First, an extensive preliminary overview is required to fully appreciate the
context of this chapter, which is ultimately a lesson about pride,
particularly for those who look at their own accomplishments and give
themselves all the credit, and God uses Nebuchadnezzar as an object
lesson. In this case, the story ends happily, for this king actually humbles
himself beneath God. Daniel does not provide a precise date when this
incident took place in the life of Nebuchadnezzar.

But, the LXXΟ adds an additional comment at the beginning of v. 1 that
this took place “in the 18th year of the dominion of Nebuchadnezzar,”
which is a date that would correspond with the fall of Jerusalem in 586 b.c.
However, this addition is undoubtedly a fabrication and receives no
support from either the LXXθ or the Masoretic Text. Evidently, the
translators of the LXXΟ sought to connect Nebuchadnezzar’s madness
with the destruction of Jerusalem, as though the madness came upon him
as a judgment by God for destroying Jerusalem. Instead, it is more likely
that the events of Daniel 4 took place in the latter years of
Nebuchadnezzar’s reign, possibly no later than his 34th year in 571 b.c.
Stephen Miller [21st century biblical scholar] summarizes and says:
“Daniel did not date the dream and subsequent events described here, but
clues in the text point to the close of Nebuchadnezzar’s reign. For
example, his building operations seem to have been concluded (v. 30),
there was peace throughout the empire (v. 4), and possible allusions to the
king’s illness by Abydenus (2nd century b.c.) and Berosus (3rd century b.c.
Babylonian priest) suggest a time late in Nebuchadnezzar’s life. Abydenus’
account is preserved by Eusebius (Praeparatio Evangelica 9.41.1) and
Berosus’ account is preserved by Josephus (Against Apion 1.20). The
king’s illness began a year after the dream (v. 29) and probably lasted 7
years. An interval of time also was needed for Nebuchadnezzar’s reign
after his cure (at least 1 year). Thus, this incident must have taken place
no later than the 34th year (571 b.c.) of his 43 year reign (605–562 b.c.).
At v. 1, the LXX translators added that this episode took place in ‘the 18th
year’ of Nebuchadnezzar’s reign, a date that would coincide with the fall
of Jerusalem (586 b.c.). Evidently the LXX translators attempted to
connect this episode with that event. Nebuchadnezzar’s madness was
construed as God’s judgment upon him for the destruction of the holy city.
Theodotion does not include this addition, which appears to be a
fabrication. Concerning the LXX edition of this chapter generally, in spite
of some omissions, it is 25% longer than the Masoretic Text. R. H. Charles
argues that the LXX version of this account is superior to the Masoretic
Text, but few would agree. Thus, probably ~30 years had transpired
between the events of chapter 3 and chapter 4, and Daniel would now
have been ~50 years of age. This chapter is unusual in a number of ways.
It contains some features similar to those of an epistle. Archer notes that
this ‘is the only chapter in scripture composed under the authority of a
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pagan.’ The chapter is written from Nebuchadnezzar’s viewpoint.
Actually, it is the king’s testimony of Yahweh’s operation in his life.
Nebuchadnezzar’s testimony contains phraseology similar to that found
elsewhere in the Old Testament (vv. 3, 37). This may be because Daniel
penned the decree for the king because of the king’s personal
acquaintance with these Hebrew writings or because the monarch
employed Babylonian terminology similar to that found in scripture.
There are doxologies at the beginning and end of the chapter. A change
from 1st person (vv. 1–18, 19–27) to 3rd person (vv. 19, 28–33) and then
back to 1st person (vv. 34–37) occurs in the chapter. For the most part the
material written in the 3rd person (except v. 19) describes the king’s
madness, to which the king would not have been a sane witness.”
However, more challenging than the date itself is the question of the
story’s historicity. Critical scholars deny that any such event like this ever
happened to Nebuchadnezzar, since there is no mention of a long mental
illness from extra–biblical records, or that he personally came to praise
Israel’s God. Instead, critical scholars appeal to Akkadian literature in
support of a non–literal understanding of Daniel’s account about
Nebuchadnezzar’s experience. For example, some argue that
Nebuchadnezzar’s madness is modelled on a trope we find in the mythic
lore of the ancient Near East, the notion of the wild man with Gilgamesh’s
friend [Enkidu] being a principal example of that trope, and stories of
those who lived outside civilized urban centers. But, others argue that
Nebuchadnezzar’s madness is best understood in the context of
netherworld imagery, and that the type of animal imagery found in
Daniel’s account frequently symbolized those who were afflicted by divine
powers. Thus, the animals function as metaphors, and the animal images
express suffering, lending detail and poignancy to Nebuchadnezzar’s
condition. Still others argue that magico–medical Mesopotamian texts
known as the dingir.šà.dib.ba [or “appeasing an angry god”] incantations
provide evidence that a primal earthly status results from a curse of a god.
John Walton [21st century ancient Near Eastern scholar] says: “Ancient
Near Eastern literature includes a variety of declarations of innocence.
Most are fairly brief, with just a few lines listing denied offenses. In
literature from Mesopotamia, the works most frequently cited are the
dingir.ša.dib.ba incantations and the šurpu incantations. Both texts

address an angry god in an attempt to appease his wrath and bring relief
to the person suffering. The dingir.ša.dib.ba incantations contain lines in
which the sufferer claims innocence on certain points: ‘I have not held
back from the deity the sheep in the pen,’ as well as long confessions of
sins he is willing to admit: ‘I spoke lies, I coveted your abundant property,
I raised my hand and desecrated what should not so be treated, I have
continually committed iniquities, known and unknown.’ The šurpu
incantations, by contrast, limit their scope to confessions of actual
offenses. Besides the incantations, a negative confession can be found in
ritual texts. In the Babylonian New Year’s festival (Akitu), the king
expresses his eligibility for renewed kingship by narrating his care for
Babylon and the temple rites, including proper treatment of subordinates.”
Hector Avalos [21st century ancient Near Eastern scholar] summarizes:
“The literary sources and socio–historical context for the story of
Nebuchadnezzar’s affliction in Daniel 4 have attracted enough attention to
be the subject of a monograph by Matthias Henze, arguing that
Nebuchadnezzar’s madness ‘is modelled on a trope we find in the mythic
lore of the ancient Near East, the notion of the wild man.’ For Henze,
Gilgamesh’s friend, Enkidu, would be a principal example of that trope.
On the other hand, Christopher Hays argues that the passage about
Nebuchadnezzar’s affliction is best understood in the context of
netherworld imagery. Hays argues that the collection of animals
mentioned had underworld associations. He also claims that ‘the type of
animal imagery found in this passage frequently symbolized those who
were afflicted by divine powers.’ Overall, Hays believes that the proper
context for this story is not in the mythical epics, but in prayer genres
(lament and thanksgiving prayers). According to Hays, ‘in order to show
that such a text is comparable to Daniel 4:30, it would help to have some
evidence that such a primal status could result from the curse of a deity,
but that is not the case.’ I argue that a group of magico–medical
Mesopotamian texts collected by Wilfred Lambert and known as the
dingir.šà.dib.ba incantations do provide clear evidence that a primal
earthly status could result from the curse of a deity. Accordingly, Henze
is probably more correct in situating the context of the story in the motif of
an earthly (as opposed to netherwordly) wild man, while Hays is correct in
seeing that Mesopotamian prayer genres are one key to the interpretation
of Daniel 4. In addition, I argue for the utility of Mesopotamian magico–
140
medical literature in illuminating the book of Daniel. The link between
Mesopotamian magico–medical literature and Daniel is evidenced
already in the book of Daniel itself. For example, the Masoretic Text of
Daniel (2:10, 27; 4:4; 5:7, 11, and 15) mentions that Nebuchadnezzar
summoned many types of magico–medical consultants, including the
āšipu, a well–known Mesopotamian ritual specialist who worked with
incantations. Nonetheless, it should be emphasized that appeal to the
dingir.šà.dib.ba incantations here is not meant to solve any redactional
problems. Rather, such an appeal aims to provide another
Mesopotamian literary tradition from which the ancient authors/editors
of Daniel 4 could have drawn inspiration, templates, and pre–combined
elements. Therefore, Hays is correct about the benefits of those prayer
genres when interpreting Daniel. In addition, the dingir.šà.dib.ba
incantations exemplify the potential of the rich and extensive magico–
medical literature of Mesopotamia to illuminate biblical texts.”
However, the lack of such information is not conclusive proof against
Daniel’s account. The fact of the matter is that the Babylonian Chronicles
[from which we get much of our historical information] only covers the
years 605–594 b.c., and this is followed by a large gap in the records, so
the records for most of the reign of Nebuchadnezzar are not extant,
especially during the latter part of his reign when this most likely occurred.
Paul Ferguson [21st century biblical scholar] evaluates the critical studies:
“As soon as the king uttered his boast he lapsed into a strange kind of
mental illness that would last until seven periods of time passed (vv. 25,
32). Those who proceed with the assumption that there are no
supernatural elements in the narrative have always been quick to brush
aside the possibility of reality in this incident. Louis Hartman confidently
states that ‘enough is known of Nebuchadnezzar’s 43 year reign so that it
is impossible to fit in such a period of insanity.’ It has apparently escaped
the attention of many expositors that there are no definite time markers
associated with the king’s illness. Daniel 4:13 (Aramaic) uses the
indefinite word ʿiddān, which may refer to a month rather than a year.
The only specific period of time mentioned in the entire chapter is the
word for ‘month’ in v. 29. Interestingly the literal Aramaic wording for the
termination point of the king’s malady is ‘at the end of the days.’ Though it
is certainly proper to render these words ‘at the end of this time,’ even 7

days of such a harrowing experience would probably suffice to bring
about serious attitude adjustments in most of us. Hence it does not appear
to be necessary to assume that the king’s mental lapse lasted for a period
of 7 years. James Montgomery sagaciously notes that since royal families
do not usually make such frailties public, records of the king’s condition
were probably never made. Nevertheless there are certain facts that
suggest that something was amiss in the latter part of the king’s reign.
Meticulous historical records are available up to about the 11th year of
Nebuchadnezzar’s reign, after which the chronicles are practically silent.
Berger only finds three inscriptions specifically dated from the 7th, 12th,
and 37th years. In 1912, Stephen Langdon published 52 building
inscriptions belonging to Nebuchadnezzar. Langdon devotes about 140
pages to the Babylonian and English texts of these inscriptions. Langdon
assigns only about four of them to the latter half of Nebuchadnezzar’s
reign. He notes that this part of the king’s reign is ‘remarkably poor in
its number of literary productions.’ Not only does the number of
inscriptions suddenly drop, but also their content radically changes.
Earlier preoccupation with religion wanes, and attention is turned to
palaces and politics. Prayers show evidence of being copied from earlier
sources. In reworking one of his closing prayers the king manages to
insert eight of his own royal titles. Flaunting of royal traits before deity
was totally absent in his earlier prayers. Langdon notes that after the year
590 BC ‘we have scarcely anything but palace inscriptions with little to
say about the religious interests of the king.’ This would certainly agree
with the king’s attitude portrayed in v. 29. In 1975, A. K. Grayson
published a most intriguing fragment of a tablet. D. J. Wiseman identifies
Nebuchadnezzar II as the subject of the brief narration, rather than Amel–
Marduk as the subject. Inscriptions of Neriglissar and Nabonidus do not
mention any son or daughter of Amel–Marduk. For some unspecified
reason the king becomes extremely disoriented. His orders are
contradictory, and he does not even heed the mention of his name. He does
not show concern for son or daughter and ceases his care for worship
centers. Even his own life is of no value to him. The text ends with the
king going to the holy gate and weeping bitterly to the great gods. The text
is much too small and fragmentary to dogmatically assert that it is the
Babylonian version of the account in Daniel 4. It does, however, indicate
that a great deal of caution is in order before dismissing the account of
the king’s madness as nothing more than folklore.”
141
Nevertheless, despite these positive arguments, after the publication of the
Nabonidus Chronicle in 1882, critical scholars began to speculate that the
historical incident that had inspired Daniel’s tale of Nebuchadnezzar’s
insanity was instead the 10–year sojourn of Nabonidus in Teima, where he
suffered from an illness. Nabonidus was the last king of the Neo–
Babylonian Empire in 556–539 b.c., and the Nabonidus Chronicle was
finished early in the reign of Cyrus, whose conquest of Babylon is one of
the last events recorded in this official royal Babylonian archival material.
Edwin Yamauchi [21st century biblical scholar] says: “We do have some
valuable contemporary inscriptions in the Semitic Akkadian language,
which was used by the Neo–Babylonians. There are hundreds of
Mesopotamian economic texts from the period of Cyrus’ reign. Quite
invaluable is the Chaldean Chronicle of the Neo–Babylonian king
Nabonidus. The Chronicle is a relatively objective contemporary account.
It describes the erratic behaviour of Nabonidus in contrast with the
reverential attitude of Cyrus.”
Then, in 1956, the fragmentary Qumran text 4Q242 [which contains a
prayer by Nabonidus] was published, and critical scholars were quick to
assume that this manuscript fragment confirmed the long–suspected
history of the tradition behind Daniel. In fact, it has been labelled as the
“missing link” between the Nabonidus Chronicle and Daniel. But,
although no one would claim direct literary dependence of Daniel on
4Q242, discussions of their relationship in scholarly publications during
the past ~50 years are nearly unanimous in assuming that it preserves a
tradition older than Daniel. So, this text reads: “The words of the prayer of
Nabonidus, king of Babylon, the great king, when he was smitten with a
severe inflammation at the command of God, in Teiman. I, Nabonidus, was
smitten with a severe inflammation lasting 7 years. Because I was
changed, becoming like a beast, I prayed to the Most High, and he forgave
my sins. An exorcist—a Jew, in fact, a member of the community of
exiles—came to me and said, ‘Declare and write down this story, and so
ascribe glory and greatness to the name of God Most High.’ Accordingly, I
have myself written it down: I was smitten with a severe inflammation
while in Teiman, by the command of God Most High. Then for 7 years I
continued praying to the gods made of silver and gold, bronze, iron, wood,
stone, and clay, for I used to think that they really were gods.”
 142

Thus, it is obviously noticeable to see that the parallels between Daniel 4 It is spelled ‫[ נבני‬Nabunay] instead of ‫[ נבנד‬from Akkadian Nabû–naʾid],
and 4Q242 are too striking to be coincidental. They seem to demand some which means a scribal confusion of ‫ י‬for ‫ד‬. Thus, if 4Q242 preserves the
type of explanation for their overlapping relationship, as summarized here: earlier Babylonian tradition about Nabonidus, it is obviously clear that it is
a garbled and inaccurate preservation of that tradition!
Daniel 4 Prayer of Nabonidus [4Q242]
st
1 person account by Nebuchadnezzar st
Peter Flint [21st century 2nd Temple scholar] says: “On palaeographical
1 person account by Nabonidus grounds, the script is a type of semicursive which Cross dates to the period
[except vv. 28–33]
Nebuchadnezzar was stricken by God 75–50 BCE. Although the king’s name is given as ‘Nabunay’ (Akkadian
[vv. 29–32]
Nabonidus was stricken by God Nabu–na’id) he is clearly Nabonidus, not least because of the reference to
Teiman = Teima in line 2. Nabonidus, the last king of Babylon (556–539
Nebuchadnezzar was smitten for Nabonidus was smitten for “seven
BCE), absented himself from Babylon for a period of 10 years and made
“seven years” [v. 32] years”
his abode at Teima in Arabia. Much relevant information on his sojourn is
Daniel ministers to Nebuchadnezzar A Judean diviner ministers to documented in the Nabonidus Chronicle, as well as in the Verse Account
[vv. 8–27] Nabonidus of Nabonidus, which is most hostile towards the king (from the viewpoint
Daniel advises Nebuchadnezzar to take A Judean diviner advises of the Babylonian clergy). Nabonidus’ own account has been found in an
actions toward God that will prevent Nabonidus to take action to God inscription from Harran (H2) that was published shortly after Milik’s
his illness [v. 27] that apparently led to his healing publication of 4Q242. The records suggest that his absence from Babylon
was due to opposition from the Babylonian clergy, who resented
However, although there is widespread acceptance that 4Q242 represents Nabonidus’ devotion to the moon–god Sin and his plans to rebuild the
an earlier and more accurate version of the events related in Daniel 4, it is temple of Sin at Harran. The Prayer of Nabonidus does not specifically
nonetheless recognized that 4Q242 is hardly an accurate picture of the mention Daniel, but is related to parts of Daniel. Common themes include:
events of Nabonidus’ reign, based on what we know of it from other a Babylonian king who is afflicted for 7 years, his recovery due to the
ancient sources [like the Harran Inscriptions of Nabonidus]. In other intervention of a Jewish exile, a king who speaks in the 1st person, and a
words, according to the Nabonidus Chronicle, Nabonidus spent 10 years in written proclamation in praise of the true God. Long before the discovery
Teima, whereas 4Q242 mentions 7 years in Teiman. Likewise, there is no of the Prayer among the Dead Sea Scrolls, scholars had suggested that
mention of Nabonidus being afflicted with a chronic skin disease in the Nabonidus’ exile at Teima lay behind the legend of Nebuchadnezzar’s
other ancient sources, and the place of Nabonidus’ sojourn in the 4Q242 madness in Daniel 4. To a great degree, Collins observes, ‘the Prayer
text is Teiman, instead of Teima. This might have arisen from confusion supplies the missing link between the Babylonian traditions and the
with Teiman in Edom [Jeremiah 49:20; Obadiah 9], which is more familiar biblical book.’ Yet in many respects the Qumran text differs both from
to a Palestinian Jew, than Teima as a place in Arabia [Isaiah 21:14; the Babylonian accounts and from Daniel 4. The Babylonian records do
Jeremiah 25:23; Job 6:19]. Thus, this confusion makes it possible that the not say that the king suffered from a disease, and make no mention of a
author of 4Q242 was a Palestinian Jew, and some scholars suggest that the Jewish diviner. Moreover, the Verse Account accuses Nabonidus of
“–an” suffix is a local variant. But, other scholars suggest that Teiman is impiety towards the Babylonian gods, whereas in the Prayer of Nabonidus
the older form of Teima, because the LXX always translates it as Qaiman. he is misguidedly devoted to idols. In the Harran Inscription Nabonidus
However, given the problems of establishing the methods of the LXX attributes his deliverance to the moon–god Sin, while the Prayer attributes
translators, it is not sound methodology to rely on the LXX to establish the this to the Most High God, or the God of the Jews. It is clear that
actual form of an Aramaic or Hebrew proper noun. Also, even the name Babylonian source–material has undergone a Jewish transformation,
Nabonidus is spelled in a peculiar manner in the prayer. with Nabonidus’ absence from Babylon being associated with a kind of

sickness, and this sickness becoming an occasion for manifesting of the
power of the God of Israel. The precise relationship between the Qumran
text and Daniel 4 is difficult to determine; indeed, the reconstruction of the
Prayer is to some degree dependent on this relationship. In the later
biblical text the name of the king has been changed to the more familiar
Nebuchadnezzar, and a name (Daniel) has been given to the Jewish seer,
who is anonymous in the surviving fragments of the Prayer. It is
interesting to note that the polemic against idols that is so prominent in
the Prayer finds its parallel in Daniel 5 rather than in Daniel 4. One
final comment: it has been proposed that the preservation of the Prayer at
Qumran may be due to the interest of the Essenes in healing.”
Thus, as Flint confirms, the oft–mentioned theory that Nabonidus’ peculiar
devotion to the moon–god Sin gave rise to the legend of Nebuchadnezzar’s
insanity in Daniel 4 actually requires a radical transformation of the
historical occurrences behind the narrative! However, there exists another
possibility that critical scholars have not seriously considered or have
dismissed as unlikely: that 4Q242 is actually based upon Daniel 4. After
all, the lone fragmentary scroll of 4Q242 is dated to 75–50 b.c., which
means it is younger than the earliest known manuscripts of Daniel. So,
could it be that since scholars had already proposed that a tradition about
Nabonidus lay behind Daniel 4, they seized upon the discovery of 4Q242
as a vindication of that proposal without a critical look at evidence that
points to 4Q242 as younger than Daniel 4 and derivative from it? Given
the garbled nature of the tradition about Nabonidus in 4Q242, it would be
prudent to examine this other possibility. Nevertheless, the major
stumbling block that prevents critical scholars from viewing the prayer as
a composition based on Daniel 4 is the character of Nabonidus himself, by
assuming that no Palestinian author in the Maccabean era would have
known about Nabonidus [which is why they think that the well–known
Nebuchadnezzar was substituted for Nabonidus sometime in the pre–
history of Daniel 4]. However, Nabonidus was not completely forgotten in
the centuries after his reign. Scholars have long been aware that Greek
historians, including Herodotus, knew of some traditions about Nabonidus,
calling him “Labynetus” [Histories, 1.74.3]. Likewise, Josephus knew of
Nabonidus through the writings of Berosus [Against Apion, 1.149–153].
Thus, it is possible that another earlier Palestinian Jew [the one responsible
for authoring 4Q242] knew of Nabonidus through a Greek author!
143
Perhaps such a Palestinian Jew, upon learning of some facts about the
reign of Nabonidus, composed a narrative roughly based on the plot of
Daniel 4. The purpose of this narrative would be to supplement Daniel’s
book and fill in a perceived and embarrassingly wide historical gap in
Daniel: the era between the reign of Nebuchadnezzar and the fall of
Babylon to the Persians. In fact, that is the historical gap between the end
of Daniel 4 and the beginning of Daniel 5. In fact, this should not be
surprising since such supplements to Daniel’s book are evident in the LXX
[recall Daniel 3]. In the same way, 4Q242 may have been intended by its
author to offer a history of activity by a wise Jew in order to demonstrate a
continuity of activity during the years about which Daniel’s text is silent,
but which were described in the author’s other historical sources. Thus, he
drew upon Daniel’s Aramaic text in order to compose a narrative that
would appear to fit into the perceived gap between Daniel 4 and Daniel 5.
Thus, 4Q242 fits in this gap, both because of its historical setting and
because of its thematic and verbal similarity to Daniel 4 and Daniel 5.
Furthermore, there are a number of indications that 4Q242 was composed
in imitation of Daniel, by reemploying similar vocabulary, hyper–
correcting its theology, and interpreting its prophecies. In other words, the
author of 4Q242 employed vocabulary and motifs from Daniel 2–5 [also
written in Aramaic], but refrained from using the motifs in Daniel 6,
because it is a narrative concerning a Persian king. So, if no scholar had
already posited the theory that Daniel 4 originated from traditions about
Nabonidus, then 4Q242 [when it was discovered] would have been seen as
a composition that extended and expanded the Aramaic Daniel narrative,
like the additional material in the LXX [the Prayer of Azariah, the Song of
the Three Young Men, and Susanna], which takes place when Daniel was
a youth, and are also set in the Neo–Babylonian kingdom that is likewise
concerned with discrediting Babylonian gods. Thus, 4Q242 conforms to
this tradition from Daniel 2–5 by expanding the condemnation of the
Babylonian religion, not the Persian religion. Nevertheless, critical
scholars try to vindicate the theory that Daniel 4 originated from traditions
about Nabonidus [which is obviously a theory that has little evidence to
support it], and they quickly seized upon 4Q242 for that purpose. This rush
to judgment has blinded them to the distinct possibility that 4Q242 does
not stem from an earlier tradition that predated Daniel 4, but in fact had its
genesis as an adaptation from Daniel 4 as the primary source, where
Daniel’s account is not connected to any incident in the life of Nabonidus.

Eugene Carpenter [21st century biblical scholar] concludes:
“Nebuchadnezzar is in view here in the text, but because no satisfactory
explanation has yet been put forth concerning Nabonidus’ move to Teima
in Arabia for 10 years, some scholars believe the insanity of
Nebuchadnezzar really happened to Nabonidus and that the author of
Daniel has mistakenly transferred the event to Nebuchadnezzar. But,
anyone who reads the text of Daniel along with the Prayer of Nabonidus
(4QprNab) will be struck by the major differences between them. This all
remains a mere hypothesis, for the difference between the Prayer of
Nabonidus and the biblical text remains unsatisfactorily explained.
Furthermore, the diseases each king suffered are quite different. In fact,
the lives and deaths of the kings of the Chaldean dynasty after
Nebuchadnezzar are all tragic: Evil–merodach (561–560 BC) was
assassinated in a revolution as a hated king at the hands of Neriglissar;
Neriglissar died under strange circumstances; Labashi–Marduk was
deposed in 9 months and murdered; then Nabonidus became king.”
So, granted that this story of Nebuchadnezzar really did take place and is
historically reliable, it is nonetheless amazing that he would reveal this
publicly. In other words, Assyrian and Babylonian kings exaggerated their
greatness and personal achievements rather than calling attention to their
defects and weaknesses. Thus, since it was told in the 1st person by
Nebuchadnezzar, would he not have been embarrassed to recount this?
John Goldingay [21st century biblical scholar] clarifies this crucial context:
“As the book of Daniel combines Hebrew and Aramaic in the manner of
Ezra–Nehemiah, so it combines 1st and 3rd person ways of narrating in the
manner of Ezra–Nehemiah and Tobit. Daniel 4 does so in a distinctively
integral fashion. The story is not only that of Nebuchadnezzar: it is also
about Nebuchadnezzar. Combining a testimony (vv. 1–17, 34–37) with
narrative (vv. 19–33) has a dramatic effect: it enables the chapter to tell
the story from two points of view or perspectives, from the implicit angle
of the narrator (which the narrator presumably expects us to accept) and
from the explicit angle of Nebuchadnezzar (which the narrator may or
may not expect us to accept). Indeed, we get three perspectives in the
chapter, insofar as it also reports the words of Daniel. In the context of the
book as a whole, we might assume that we are expected to accept
Daniel’s angle but to be more suspicious of Nebuchadnezzar’s.”
144
Paul House [21st century biblical scholar] concludes: “This chapter’s
literary form is unique in Daniel 1–6. It is a communication from
Nebuchadnezzar to his subjects (v. 1). Hartman and Di Lella deem it an
epistle, stating that the passage has ‘a standard epistolary introduction’
(vv. 1–3), a ‘body of the letter that gives the account of the king’s dream
and its effects’ (vv. 4–36), and ‘finally a conclusion’ (v. 37) which ‘re–
echoes the praises of God that were sounded in the introduction.’ If so, it
is an unusual epistle in that vv. 1–18 and vv. 34–37 are autobiographical,
but a narrator takes over when Nebuchadnezzar hears from Daniel (vv.
19–27) and when the king loses his mind (vv. 28–33). Nebuchadnezzar
resumes speaking when he regains sanity. Furthermore, the chapter
includes poetry in v. 3 and vv. 34–35. There is a bit of a contest between
Daniel and the other wise men in vv. 4–18. Thus, many scholars conclude
that diverse traditions have been woven together in Daniel 4. They also
conclude that the material does not fit the 2nd century BC time period as
well as it does earlier settings. Despite this agreement, experts have found
it quite difficult to demonstrate how an editor joined the suggested strands
of prose, poetry, autobiography, 3rd person narration and epistle. For
example, Wills uses the Old Greek version and relevant non–biblical
stories to try to reconstruct the original sources a proposed editor
possessed, the source material this editor used and discarded, and the
words this editor added. While his work demonstrates careful analysis, it
may simply show that Daniel’s author brought together materials in such
a unified manner that it takes extraordinary scholarly knowledge and good
fortune to sort them out. It seems more likely that the piece has always
been a unified whole, joined, as good literature so often is, by an author
blending genres that can only be separated for purposes of discussion.
Since Ezra, Nehemiah, and other exile literature contain similar shifts in
content and narration, Daniel 4 appears to participate in normal literary
practices of the Babylonian–Persian era. At least three other historical
matters deserve mention. First, Eusebius (275–339 AD) mentions a
tradition that Nebuchadnezzar went to the roof of his palace, predicted the
coming of a Persian ruler and wished that ruler to become a beast in the
field. This account demonstrates that palaces were standard places for a
king to be and speak, and that beast imagery was common when
discussing kings. Second, in the 19th century, scholars discovered
inscriptions about Nabonidus, the last ruler of the Babylonian Empire
(556–539 BC). These included statements about his son Belshazzar, and

the fact that Nabonidus left Babylon for 10 years to live in Teima. Third,
the discoveries at Qumran in the mid–20th century included the Prayer of
Nabonidus, a document that contains a 1st person account of how God
struck the king with an illness for 7 years while he lived in Teima. God
sent an unnamed Jewish magician, who told him that he was suffering for
praying to gods of silver and gold, and urged him to repent. The text
breaks off, but the account likely ended with the king’s acceptance of the
message and his renewed health. This last document has several evident
similarities and differences with Daniel 4. After charting these, Hartman
and Di Lella conclude that ‘there is no literary dependence of one story
on the other.’ They add that, taken together, the Nabonidus texts preserve
more accurately than Daniel 4 the story of a Babylonian king who suffered
illness and gained health through the intervention of a Jewish wise man.
This is an extraordinary conclusion, given the lack of any attesting or
competing Nebuchadnezzar stories outside the bible. Thus, it is a much
more feasible conclusion that Daniel 4 testifies with other ancient texts
to God’s work with Babylon’s kings. Jeremiah, Daniel, Ezra, and
Nehemiah convey the same theme, as do extra–biblical works. Of all these
texts, Daniel alone presents how God worked directly in
Nebuchadnezzar’s life. It preserves what is currently unique information,
and no known text sets that information aside. The book presents this
episode as one of several for which documentary evidence existed when
the author wrote the book.”
Thus, notice that Nebuchadnezzar opens his decree by saying: “it gives me
great pleasure to tell” [v. 2]. He did not tell this story reluctantly, because
through the process of his humiliation by God, his heart was truly changed.
So, in making this story public, the king accomplished two things:
1. He provided a clear explanation to all his subjects why he was
absent from his throne [which over a 7 year period would have
become noticeable to all].
2. It was his opportunity to glorify God who had dealt so mercifully
with him [despite his immense pride] patiently bringing the king to
faith and a true heart–felt praise for God. This means
Nebuchadnezzar was an older man and near the end of his reign
when his illness ended. He probably thought carefully what he
145
could do to honour God for all that God had done for him. What
greater honour could he have rendered than to declare his story to
all his subjects and point them [since they were steeped in idolatry]
to God? In doing so, he became one of the truly great men of
history: a man rescued by the grace of God.
Thus, here is a summary of his spiritual journey:
1. Chapter 2: Daniel’s interpretation of the dream about the great
image. He learned that Israel’s God was all–powerful [controlling
all history], all wise, and could reveal mysteries that no other god
could make known.
2. Chapter 3: The deliverance of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego.
He learned that God was sovereign over nature and history, and
could by his miracle–working power override the will of the
mightiest earthly potentates and deliver his servants from death.
3. Chapter 4: His humiliation to the state of a beast of the field.
Finally, Nebuchadnezzar really began to understand his weakness
and folly before God. At last he realized his utter dependence on
God for his reason, his power, and his very life. He saw that he was
but an instrument in the hands of God. So, he came to terms with
the primary lesson of the book: the absolute sovereignty of God
and his faithfulness to his covenant people. Thus, he personally put
his faith and became a worshiper of Israel’s God.
Stating with v. 1, we read: “An Official Statement from Nebuchadnezzar
the King: to the people of all nations and languages who live on earth.
Peace and prosperity to you!”
This was typical of decrees uttered by oriental kings, being something of a
standard greeting. It is worded almost exactly the same as that by Darius
[later in Daniel 6:25]. The Aramaic ʾăra [for “earth”] is equivalent to the
Hebrew ʾereṣ [or “land”]. So, when we examine the ancient cuneiform
documents of Assyrian, Babylonian, and Persian kings, they regarded
themselves as kings “of all the earth” because their empires embraced
most of the known civilized world and they boasted beyond their measure.

Likewise, the Aramaic šᵊlomḵôn [for “peace and prosperity”] is equivalent
to the Hebrew šalōm [or “peace, welfare, health, and prosperity”]. Thus,
having wished for their good welfare and fortune, Nebuchadnezzar said
that he found it pleasing to declare the signs and wonders that God had
done for him. To tell his story risked a certain embarrassment, especially
for a Babylonian king, but he nonetheless felt compelled to share it.
Chrysostom [4th century Bishop of Constantinople] beautifully says:
“Observe the piety of the children: they showed no indignation, no anger,
no gainsaying, but they came forth as though they were going forth from
heaven itself. And what the prophet says of the sun, that ‘he is as a
bridegroom going out of his chamber’ [Psalm 19:5], so one could also say
such a thing of them. But, though the sun goes forth like the bridegroom,
yet did they come out with even more glory than he, for he indeed goes
forth to enlighten the world with natural light, they to enlighten the world
in a different way, I mean, spiritually. For because of them the king
immediately issued a decree, ‘The signs and wonders that the most high
God has worked for me I am pleased to recount.’ So they went forth,
shedding a yet more glorious radiance, beaming indeed in that very
region, even more so by way of the king’s writings, being diffused over
the world and dispelling the darkness that everywhere prevails.”
Finally in vv. 2–3, we read: “it gives me great pleasure to tell about the
signs and wonders that the Most High God has done for me. How great
are his signs! How powerful are his wonders! His kingdom is an eternal
kingdom, and his dominion lasts from generation to generation.”
The expression “signs and wonders” will be about the distressing
discipline that God had brought upon Nebuchadnezzar, just as it did when
God brought the plagues [also called “signs and wonders”] upon Pharaoh
to coerce him into yielding to God’s will [Exodus 7:3; Deuteronomy 6:22).
Nebuchadnezzar was about to tell his subjects how he had to be disciplined
by God, though in the final analysis it would be a good thing, for he would
be a changed man. These signs/wonders were indeed great and mighty,
because they powerfully brought the king to his knees. Nebuchadnezzar
had spent a lifetime building one of the world’s great kingdoms, but he had
failed to see his kingdom in proper perspective with God’s kingdom.
146
Thus, he declares, “His kingdom is an eternal kingdom, and his dominion
lasts from generation to generation.” This reflects a proper perspective of
God’s kingdom and rule. However, this confession about God’s kingdom
is strikingly similar to Psalm 145:10–13. It may be that Nebuchadnezzar
was familiar with this Davidic psalm and came to appreciate its truth.
Likewise, v. 3 is strikingly similar to the latter part of v. 31. Thus,
Nebuchadnezzar did not acknowledge this truth until after his illness.
Thus, vv. 1–3 is a summary about Nebuchadnezzar’s conclusions after his
humbling experience, and he uses it to introduce his story to tell his
readers how he had come to view God’s kingdom this way. It is entirely
possible that Daniel had ministered to him somewhere in the process with
the words from Psalm 145, and by God’s grace, Nebuchadnezzar came to
faith and fully trusted in this revelation about God’s kingdom.
Wendy Widder [21st century biblical scholar] summarizes and concludes:
“Nebuchadnezzar issued a royal proclamation to the citizens of his vast
empire because he had an important message to give them. He wrote to
tell them about something God had done for him—or, perhaps more
accurately in the context, something God had done to him. His
proclamation follows the traditional format of letters of the time,
beginning with something of both a return address and salutation in v. 1.
The use of the royal letter in this context, in which the great
Nebuchadnezzar will acknowledge an authority higher than himself, gives
his words a special degree of authority. The king addressed his letter to
those who live in ‘all the world,’ a claim that fits the royal ideology of the
ancient Near East and makes Nebuchadnezzar an epitome of human
kingship in his claim to universal rule. Some scholars doubt that the events
of this chapter happened, and while there is no record of such a
proclamation from Nebuchadnezzar in the annals of Babylonian history,
that is not reason enough to discount its historicity. Our knowledge of
Nebuchadnezzar’s later years is minimal, and we might expect the royal
annals to omit such a humiliating account of the great king. Longman
notes that a ‘king’s reign is not exhaustively documented and this
experience is not the type of thing that Nebuchadnezzar may have wanted
preserved for perpetuity in his royal inscriptions.’ Without such written
documentation, archaeology can offer little corroboration of the story.
What seems to impress Nebuchadnezzar the most is that the ‘Most High
God’ had done something miraculous for him (v. 2). The first time
 147

Nebuchadnezzar referred to God as the ‘Most High God’ was in Daniel 4) What was the preliminary setting for Nebuchadnezzar’s dream? (4:4–9)
3:26 when he called Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego out of the fiery
furnace. He knew when he saw the 4th figure in the flames that the Starting with vv. 4–5, we read: “I, Nebuchadnezzar, was resting in my
exiles’ God was more than a god—he was the God of all gods, and in home and prospering in my palace. I had a dream that made me afraid.
Daniel 4, this Most High God has stepped into Nebuchadnezzar’s world The thoughts that went through my mind while in bed and the visions in my
and done something extraordinary for him. The expression ‘signs and head terrified me.”
wonders’ brings to mind the exodus, where God demonstrated his superior
power to Pharaoh (Exodus 7:3; Deuteronomy 6:22; Psalm 135:9). Nearly Nebuchadnezzar begins his testimony by recounting his situation at the
a millennium later, God showed his superior power over the Babylonian time he received this dream from God. The Aramaic šᵊlēh [for “resting”]
king. Notably, false prophets, antichrists, and Satan also have the capacity means “carefree,” since his kingdom was secure, and he was living in a
to perform signs and wonders in the bible (Deuteronomy 13:2; Mark time when he could feel at ease. Likewise, the Aramaic ra ănan [for
13:22; 2 Thessalonians 2:9). While the language of ‘signs and wonders’ “prospering”] means “flourishing,” but this should not be limited to
would likely have been lost on Nebuchadnezzar’s wider audience, the financial prosperity, because the similar adjective Hebrew ra ănān [or
Jewish audience of Daniel would have made the connection between “luxuriant, fresh”] is used of trees and plants [to be “leafy” and thriving].
Nebuchadnezzar’s words and the exodus, and they would have found Thus, “prospering” was not just financial prosperity, but political and
comfort in the fact that God was still in the business of performing military stability as well. In other words, everything was going well for the
miracles for his people, an assurance the Diaspora community needed. king. So, notice the irony: he was flourishing like a “leafy” tree, but then in
Nebuchadnezzar’s doxology is at home in Babylonian and Persian royal the dream he becomes a cut–down tree! The purpose of v. 4 is to bring out
proclamations, in which ancient Near Eastern kings often praised their the king’s false sense of security. This was at a point in his career when he
gods for showing them favour. His account concludes with a similar had succeeded in military conquests, his kingdom had become stable,
doxology (vv. 34–35), forming an inclusio, or literary envelope, around the material riches were flowing into his treasury, and he was enjoying the
dream report. Between the first song and the last, Nebuchadnezzar fruits of his many building projects for which he would become famous
recounts the amazing things the Most High God did for him. But, the [like the Hanging Gardens of Babylon that he built for one of his wives].
doxologies focus the reader’s attention on the central message of the
chapter: a story about two sovereignties; the human rule proves to be
utterly derivative, utterly contingent, and totally dependent upon the
divine will. The king’s acknowledgement of his dependence and God’s
sovereignty is summed up in Job–like language: ‘No one can hold back his
hand or say to him: ‘What have you done?’’ (v. 35; cf. Job 9:12; 42:2),
and his assessment of human limitations sounds like Isaiah’s proclamation
that the nations are as nothing, worthless, and less than nothing before
God (v. 35; cf. Isaiah 40:17). Old Testament declarations of God’s eternal
reign and freedom to do what pleases him stand behind Nebuchadnezzar’s
similar acclamations (vv. 3, 34; cf. Psalm 115:3; 135:5; 143:13). We do
not have to assume that Nebuchadnezzar knew the sacred texts of his
captives. Rather, Daniel may have composed the doxologies, wording
them in such a way as to capture the gist of the king’s story in language
that would have resonated with the Jewish audience of the book.”

Paul Ferguson [21st century biblical scholar] explains the context further:
“In v. 4 the king says he was ‘happy and flourishing’ in his palace. In
Inscription Number 9 Nebuchadnezzar says, ‘The palace, the seat of my
royal authority, a place of union of mighty peoples, abode of joy and
happiness, the place where proud ones are compelled to submit, I rebuilt
upon the bosom of the wide world. My royal decisions, my imperial
commands, I caused to go forth from it.’ The king proudly asserted that he
made his palace to be gazed at in astonishment by everyone. It was
‘bursting with splendor. Luxuriance, dreadfulness, awe, gleaming majesty
surrounded it.’ He boasted that he made Babylon into a fortress, strong
like a mountain. He says, ‘I made the dwelling–place of my lordship
glorious.’ These palace inscriptions prompted James Montgomery to
declare that the setting of the king’s ‘self–complacence in his glorious
Babylon are strikingly true to history.’ Robert Pfeiffer, who believed that
Daniel was written over 300 years later than its traditional date, was
justifiably mystified as to how all this would be known by a Palestinian
author in the Maccabean era. He resigned himself to the fact that we may
never know. The inscriptions of Nebuchadnezzar are poetic, pious, hymnic,
and prayerful. A moral element is present, but comments about military
accomplishments are almost always absent. They are written in the 1st
person and stress his building achievements. They seem to betray one
major character flaw. They are egocentric (constantly using the pronouns
‘I’ or ‘my’) and express an inordinate pride about his construction feats.
In short, they closely parallel the style purportedly used by the king in
Daniel 4. His inscriptions are much different from Persian and Greek
monuments with which an author living in Maccabean times would be
familiar. It would have taken a well–read and highly–educated person
who was close to the king to have had enough information to write in a
style that the monarch himself regularly employed. Louis Hartman claims
that ‘certain correct historical allusions and the nature of the Aramaic’
open the possibility that this story may have begun in oral form at the end
of the Neo–Babylonian period and found literary expression in the Persian
period. Hartman’s remarks reflect a major trend in liberal biblical
scholarship: to date the narrative portions of the book of Daniel earlier
than the Maccabean era. For example, Lacocque holds that Daniel 4 was
worked out orally before the 2nd century, but put in writing in 164 BC, and
John Collins is adamant in stating that there is not one single verse in
Daniel 1–6 that betrays editorial insertion from Maccabean times.”
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So, just when Nebuchadnezzar seemed to have all that his heart longed for,
God sent him a dream that would lead to a shaking up of his little world.
As a result of the visions in his dream, Nebuchadnezzar [who normally
would have felt so secure behind the massive walls for which Babylon was
famous] was left terrified and deeply troubled.
Jerome [4th century] says: “The narrative is clear indeed and requires little
interpretation. Because he displeased God, Nebuchadnezzar was turned
into a madman and dwelled for 7 years among the brute beasts and fed on
the roots of herbs. Afterwards, by the mercy of God, he was restored to his
throne and praised and glorified the King of heaven. But, there are some
who claim to understand by the figure of Nebuchadnezzar the hostile
power that the Lord speaks of in the gospel, saying, ‘I behold Satan falling
from heaven like lightning’ [Luke 10:18]. These authorities assert that it
was absolutely impossible for a man who was reared in luxury to subsist
on hay for 7 years and so dwell among wild beasts for 7 years without
being mangled by them. Also they ask how the imperial authority could
have been kept waiting for a mere madman and how so mighty a kingdom
could have gone without a king for so long a period. And so they pose all
of these questions and offer as their reply the proposition that since the
episode does not stand up as genuine history, the figure of
Nebuchadnezzar represents the devil. To this position we make not the
slightest concession; otherwise everything we read in scripture may
appear to be imperfect representations and mere fables. For once people
have lost their reason, who would not perceive them to lead their existence
like brutish animals in the open fields and forest regions; what is so
remarkable about the execution of such a divine judgment as this for the
manifestation of God’s power and the humbling of the pride of kings?”
Theodoret [5th century Bishop of Cyr] likewise says: “Nebuchadnezzar
was in control of the whole of Asia, had brought Egypt under his control
and had subjugated the Ethiopians living near Egypt. Nevertheless he
treated his subjects very harshly and had reached such a state of
arrogance as to think that he was greater and more powerful than not only
the so–called gods, but even the true God. But, nothing of what was done
by him would have happened without God’s permitting it and wanting to
call to account for impiety those who had suffered this from him. Hence
he was right to add, ‘Surely an axe will not be glorified apart from the one

wielding it? Or the saw exalted apart from the one pulling it? Likewise for
anyone holding rod or staff.’ As it is impossible, he is saying, for axe or
saw or rod to move of itself (each of these operating when someone
chooses to move them by using their hand), so too you did what you did,
when my providence allowed you, on account of the lawlessness of the
victims. So, do not think you achieved this by your own wisdom and power.
If, however, you are not prepared to learn this lesson in a sensible fashion
and put an end to your lofty arrogance, you will learn by experience that
this is the way things are. So, God struck that arrogant mind that had
dreamed of preternatural things with insanity and dementia. Then, when
he became wildly enraged, he caused him to be driven out and live in the
desert for a long time. He next caused him to gain an appreciation of the
fate that had befallen him; after all, it was impossible for one who lacked
all sense and feeling to reap any benefit. Thus, after refusing to do so, that
fellow acknowledged the rapid changes in his life, wept and wailed for his
own stupidity and confessed God’s kingdom to be without succession,
lasting for all ages. Learning this from experience, he once more through
God’s ineffable loving kindness returned to his own kingdom. In the belief,
however, that it would be an injustice to all people if he were to conceal
God’s providence, he recounted in a letter to all his subjects throughout
the world his former prosperity and the misfortune that befell him, then the
repentance by which he won the Lord over. While this is the theme of the
letter, then, I developed it at length, in my wish to make clear the care of
the God of all for everyone. It was not without purpose that he cited his
own name: it was to confirm his name in word; since he was very famous
as having control of everyone throughout Asia, Egypt and Ethiopia, he
cited his name at the beginning as sufficient confirmation of what was
said. He meant, I was at the height of good fortune and surrounded
continually with countless good things.”
Next in vv. 6–7, we read: “So I gave an order to bring in all of the
advisors of Babylon so they would tell me the interpretation of the dream.
Then the diviners, enchanters, Chaldeans, and astrologers came in, and I
told them the dream. But they could not reveal its interpretation to me.”
The Babylonians commonly sought interpretations for their dreams, and
the royal court was full of “advisors” who specialized in the interpretation
of dreams [for which dream manuals had been carefully composed].
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Thus, it is not surprising that the king issued a command for the wise men
of Babylon to be brought in. No explanation is given as to why he did not
immediately turn to Daniel for help [rather than calling all the wise men].
But, notice that it was about the “interpretation” to be made known, not
the dream and the interpretation [recall Daniel 2]. So, in came the wise
men, and the king told them the dream [recall Daniel 1:20; 2:2, 10, 27].
However, the Aramaic verb mᵊhôḏᵊ în [for “could not reveal”] literally
means “they did not inform me.” The reason why they did not inform the
king could either be because they were not able to interpret the dream or
because they chose not to inform him [possibly realizing that the dream
had a negative message and that disclosing it might be offensive to the
king]. However, the Aramaic grammar leaves either option possible, and
this must be decided contextually. Thus, the Aramaic text can literally be
translated as: “they did not make its interpretation known to me” [without
necessarily commenting on their ability or lack thereof]. So, based on what
we know of Babylonian dream interpretations, we would have expected
them to have rendered a verdict on the meaning of the dream [not to do so
would be a tacit admission that they lacked the skill to do so]. Thus, in this
particular case, the king notifies Daniel that “none of the advisors in my
kingdom can tell me its interpretation” [later in v. 18], and the Aramaic lāʾ
yōḵlîn [for “none can”] is explicit here. Nevertheless, at the very least, the
king’s opinion is that they were unable to interpret the dream.
Theodoret [5th century Bishop of Cyr] says: “He did not give these details
casually: it was in parallel so as to make clear to everyone the prophet’s
wisdom by comparison—hence his listing the nationalities of the wise men
of Babylon so as to highlight the fact that whereas they understood
absolutely nothing, Daniel was illuminated by the divine Spirit.”
Finally in vv. 8–9, we read: “Eventually, Daniel appeared before me. He
is called Belteshazzar, in accordance with the name of my god, and the
spirit of the holy gods is within him. I told him my dream: ‘Belteshazzar,
chief of the diviners, since I know that the spirit of the holy gods is within
you, and no mystery too difficult for you, explain to me the vision of my
dream that I saw, along with its interpretation.’”
The opening Aramaic words aḏ ʾāḥŏr n [for “eventually”] means Daniel
did not appear before the king at the same time as the other wise men.

This need not imply that he was not called until the king had first spoken
to the wise men. Certainly Nebuchadnezzar would not have forgotten his
earlier experience with Daniel. That was too dramatic an event to have
easily been forgotten, no matter how much time might have passed [recall
Daniel 2]. Thus, a more likely possibility is that all the wise men were
called at the same time, but Daniel was delayed in coming immediately,
and the delay was possibly purposed by God. In other words, such a
delayed appearance of Daniel would give time for the deficiency of the
other wise men to show itself once more, which in turn would make his
true interpretation all the more impressive. So, in recounting the story, the
king paused to remind his readers that Daniel had been renamed
“Belteshazzar, in accordance with the name of my god.” The subjects of
the empire would most likely have known Daniel by this pagan name, and
this comment was useful to the original readers/hearers [later in Daniel
5:12]. But, by the end of this chapter, the king will realize how unfitting
such a name was for Daniel. Nevertheless, the king points out that there
was something unique about Daniel: “the spirit of the holy gods is within
him.” However, some scholars prefer to translate the Aramaic rûaḥ–
ʾĕlāhîn qaddîŝîn differently: “Spirit of the holy God” [referring to Israel’s
God], and there are various arguments to support this translation:
1. There is evidence of the Aramaic plural ʾĕlāhîn being used for the
singular “God” in extra–biblical Aramaic papyri [and paralleled in
Akkadian with ilâni]. While this should be considered, it does not
prove that this is how the Aramaic plural ʾĕlāhîn should be
understood in v. 8. At best, it only makes it possible.
2. The LXXθ rendered the phrase pneuma theou hagion [or “the Holy
Spirit of God”]. However, Jerome deliberately rejected this
translation in favour of the plural “gods” in his Latin Vulgate.
3. The Aramaic ḏî rûaḥ ʾĕlāhîn qaddîšîn bēh is similar to the Hebrew
ʾăšer rûaḥ ʾĕlōhîm bô [or “in whom the Spirit of God lives”], which
was Pharaoh’s statement about Joseph [Genesis 41:38]. But, this
cannot be used for this interpretation and translation of v. 8.
4. It is not a problem to take the Aramaic plural ʾĕlāhîn as a singular
[or “God”], and then followed by the Aramaic plural adjective
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qaddîšîn [for “holy”], since we find a similar parallel in Hebrew
usage. For example, Joshua 24:19 has ʾĕlōhîm qᵊḏōšîm hûʾ [or “he
is a God of Holiness”]. But, while this is true, when the Hebrew
ʾĕlōhîm is meant to be understood as God, a singular adjective is
used [Nehemiah 8:6; Psalm 7:10]. Thus, it is not sufficient to cite
Joshua 24:19, since the grammar dictates that a singular adjective
is needed if ʾĕlōhîm is intended as “God” rather than “gods.”
Thus, what is more persuasive is how the Aramaic singular ʾĕlāh and
plural ʾĕlāhîn are used in Daniel’s book, and a careful study of their usage
indicates that ʾĕlāhîn should be taken as a plural in v. 8:
1. “God” is the singular ʾĕlāh [later in Daniel 5:18, 21–23, 26; 6:22].
2. When Nebuchadnezzar referred to God, he used the singular ʾĕlāh,
not the plural ʾĕlāhîn [recall Daniel 2:47; 3:26–29; 4:2].
3. In all other cases where the plural ʾĕlāhîn is used in Daniel, the
translation “gods” is necessary [recall Daniel 2:11; 3:25].
4. When Belshazzar speaks to Daniel, he uses ʾĕlāhîn in a similar
expression “a spirit of the gods is in you” [later in Daniel 5:14], but
obviously he was not acknowledging Israel’s God.
5. Later in Daniel 6:26 is the Aramaic hûʾ ʾĕlāhāʾ ḥayyāʾ [or “he is
the living God”], and this is an example where adjectives are used
with the singular “God” as the subject, but the adjective here is
singular and not plural [as in v. 8]. Likewise, a similar case was in
Daniel 2:45 with the Aramaic ʾĕlāh raḇ [or “the great God”].
Thus, the Aramaic plural ʾĕlāhîn [for “gods”] is not equivalent to the
Hebrew plural ʾĕlôhîm [or “God”], since scholars explain this as a “plural
of intensification,” which is to magnify how absolute Israel’s God is, and
to emphasise his sovereign power. So, this linguistic parallel between
Aramaic and Hebrew demonstrates that the Aramaic ʾĕlāhîn should not be
rendered in the singular. Instead, it should be translated by the plural
“gods” [which also means the Aramaic rûaḥ should be translated “spirit”].
Furthermore, notice the curious use of the Aramaic qaddîšîn [for “holy”].

The equivalent Hebrew qᵊdôšîm [or “holy”] is applied to Israel’s God
[Leviticus 11:44–45; 19:2; 20:26; 21:8], but the idea that the other gods
are called “holy” is unusual in Mesopotamia, especially on the lips of
Nebuchadnezzar, since the term was applied ethically and ritually.
Joe Sprinkle [21st century biblical scholar] says: “We might expect the
gods to be called holy, but that does not occur with any great frequency.
Even where a god is called holy, as with the goddess Inanna, the goddess
shows no attribute of ethical holiness. Mesopotamian terms for ‘holy’
only rarely are applied to humans. Mesopotamian gods were often not
even considered ‘pure,’ much less ‘holy.’ The Hebrew concept of holiness
and the concept of holiness in Mesopotamian religions are different.
Holiness is not usually expected of the gods in the ancient world.”
Thus, holiness is the underlying principle in the legal/ritual treatise of
Leviticus. But, what does it mean to be holy in the cognitive context of the
ancient Near East? For example, Peter says: “Instead, be holy in every
aspect of your life, just as the one who called you is holy. For it is written,
‘You must be holy, because I am holy.’” [1 Peter 1:15–16]
So, this New Testament context is often paraphrased to mean “be moral
because I am moral” and is invoked as the foundation of an ethical theory
called imitatio Dei, in which being good consists of being the kind of
person that God is and doing the kinds of things that God would do.
Furthermore, the ensuing content of Leviticus 19–20 [the so–called
holiness code] is then commonly interpreted as a list of commands that
dictate God’s demands: to meet all of God’s demands in order to conform
our character to God’s character. However, this is not what is actually
happening in Leviticus. Humans are humans, and God is God, and what is
proper and fitting for one may not be proper and fitting for the other.
Humans are the image of God, but humans are not like God, acting as God
acts and doing as God does. This indeed is the entire point of Genesis 3.
The “shining one” promised that Adam and Eve would be like God
[Genesis 3:5], so they ate the fruit, and they did become like God [Genesis
3:22], but that was the problem! To be as God is and to do as God does is
the prerogative of God alone. It is not within our grasp. In other words,
this can be compared to a situation in which parents have gone out for the
evening and left their oldest child in charge. That child is given a measure
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of responsibility and authority [to rule the house and subdue it], but at the
same time it would not be appropriate for the child to fully assume the role
of the parents: taking control of bank accounts and disciplining younger
siblings. It is necessary for the parents to do these things because they are
the parents, but the child remains a sibling no matter how much temporary
authority they may have, and it is the nature of those relationships and
statuses that dictates proper actions, not anything inherent in the action
itself. Thus, notice the absurdity to fully equate divine and human action in
both directions. In other words, since Leviticus 18:18 says: “You are not to
marry a woman and then have sexual relations with her sister as a rival
when your wife is still alive,” it is meaningless to say, “God does not sleep
with his wife’s sister,” because that extrapolates holiness to reflect a kind
of essential character that motivates God’s actions. It is to interpret
Leviticus as: “This list describes what God would do if God were human.”
Thus, holiness, in that way of thinking, becomes fundamentally a character
trait, specifically designating a particular moral character. So, the specific
interpretation of Leviticus 19:2 becomes: “Your moral character should be
the same as my moral character.” However, the problem with this
interpretation is that the Hebrew root qdš [for “holy”] cannot possibly
mean having a certain moral character. In fact, the Greek telios [or “be
perfect”] in Matthew 5:48 was never used in the LXX to translate qdš.
Thus, the vast majority of things designated as holy are inanimate objects
such as the ark, the altar, and the lamp–stands for the tabernacle. The word
is also applied to places [Mount Sinai; Temple], to time [Sabbath], to
geopolitical abstractions [land, nation], and to animals [devoted or
sacrificed], and none of these have character or moral agency of any kind!
The only persons [potential moral agents] designated as holy are the
priests, but this is never interpreted to imply that the priests are more moral
or have a different moral character from the rest of the assembly. When the
nation or people is identified as holy, it refers to the communal abstraction,
not to all the specific individuals who participate in it. Otherwise,
specifying the priests individually as holy would be redundant. This is
precisely the mistake made by Korah, Dathan, and Abiram when they
claim, “You have appropriated too much for yourselves from the entire
congregation, since all of them are holy, and the LORD is among them,
too. Why do you exalt yourselves over the LORD’s assembly?” [Numbers
16:3]. The holiness of the social abstraction does not extend to all of its
members; only the priests as individual persons are holy.

Likewise, holy cannot refer to a superlative state of cleanliness or ritual
purity. This interpretation is based on the various forms of Akkadian
qadašu, qašdu, quddušu, quššudu, and qadištu, all of which refers in its
verbal form to washing, in a sense of cleansing for ritual use, but also in a
mundane sense [like laundry]. This getting rid of physical dirt is
sometimes abstracted to removal of impurity, with impurity being further
extrapolated to account for any given context.
st
Jacobus Naudé [21 century ancient Near Eastern scholar] says: “God is
intrinsically holy and calls his people to be holy, providing for them the
standard of obedience whereby that holiness may be maintained (Leviticus
19:2). According to Otto, the adjective points to five characteristics of the
human experience of the divine: awe, majesty, vitality, otherness, and
compelling fascination. Gammie carries these ideas of Otto one step
further, suggesting that the experience of holiness calls for the human
response of purity and cleanness. Thus, the priestly tradition requires the
cleanness of proper ritual and the maintenance of separation; the
prophetic tradition demands the cleanness of social justice; the wisdom
tradition stresses the cleanness of inner integrity and individual moral
acts. The adjective typifies not only the mystery of God’s power, but also
his character as totally good and entirely without evil. The experience of
God revealing himself as ethically holy calls for the human response to a
holiness resembling his own (Leviticus 20:7). But, lay Israelites did not
share the same holy status as priests. On special occasions, when Israel as
a whole was involved, they attained the broader holiness that was not
permanent and ceased as a natural consequence of time. Yet though they
were denied priestly holiness attained through inaugural rites and
genealogical right, they were charged to achieve another type of holiness:
that which comes by obedience. Because God is holy, the Israelites could
not serve him when they persisted in their idolatrous practices (Joshua
24:19). They were to be separate from all that was unholy (Leviticus
11:44–45). Stipulations were imposed on them that they might not engage
in practices common to other peoples (Numbers 15:40). Their call to
holiness was based on the fact that they had become God’s possession by
virtue of his separating them from the nations (Leviticus 20:26). Thus,
holiness should characterize Israel in its distinctiveness in relation to the
nations with regard to purity laws (Leviticus 11:44–45) or moral
behaviour (Leviticus 19). The same aspect of holiness pertains to the
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Deuteronomic formula, the holy people. In so far as the people are holy to
the Lord their God (Deuteronomy 7:6; 14:2, 21; 26:19), the formula
explains their separation from the practices and cult objects of foreign
religions; not eating what dies of itself; destroying altars, Asherim, and
graven images. Deuteronomy 26:19 declares that through keeping the
whole law Israel will become a people holy to the Lord.”
So, since the Hebrew ṭāhôr [or “clean”] does not parallel with the Hebrew
qdš [or “holy”], then a clean thing does not become holy by applying a
more rigorous version of the same process that transitioned it from unclean
to clean. In other words, the transition of unclean → clean, in relation to
the transition of common → holy, are actually separate processes, where
the former is performed by humans, and the latter is performed by God.
The concept of cleanliness is connected to the idea of suitability for cultic
ritual use or participation. So, clean [ṭāhôr] cannot mean “moral” for the
same reasons that holy [qdš] cannot, because many unclean actions are not
sinful [like menstruation or attending a funeral], and many unclean things
have no moral agency [like animals, moulds, and locations]. Thus,
cleanliness is tangentially related to immorality in the sense that sin [as
immorality] is one possible cultic contaminant, but impurity [ṭūmʾâ] and
immorality [ḥaṭṭāʾt] are in no way interchangeable. So, humans can make
themselves clean or unclean, but holiness is a status that is conferred by
God. It cannot be earned, acquired, or lost through behaviour. Yes, the
verbal form of the root qdš does often take a human subject [commonly
translated “consecrate”]. However, the verb qdš does not describe the
process by which a thing acquires the status represented by the adjective
qādôš. For example, priests are consecrated and priests are also holy, but a
person can be consecrated without either becoming holy or becoming a
priest [1 Samuel 16:5]. The act of consecrating ritual objects for use in the
Temple [Exodus 30:29] actually describes a two–stage process,
“consecrate it” and “it will be holy.” There is a similar two–stage process
in Jonah 1:12, “throw me into the sea” and “the sea will become calm.”
The two events are related, but the one does not mechanically cause the
other. Thus, humans do the first, and God does the second. This is similar
to the way construction of sacred objects worked throughout the ancient
Near East. The final image is the product of both humans and gods. So, the
humans build and “consecrated” the statue [from the Sumerian KU3, an
adjective with a similar range of objects to the Hebrew verb qdš].
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But, the process by which it becomes holy [from the Sumerian DINGIR], So, a determinative is a grammatical element that indicates a category to
described by the metaphor of birth, is a different process, performed by the which the associated word belongs. For example, in English, the $ symbol
gods. Thus, Leviticus 19:2 bears this out: “you will be holy because I am can function as a determinative by indicating that the number to which it is
holy.” In Deuteronomy 7:14 the same construction is used to say “you will attached belongs to the category of an amount of money. Thus, DINGIR
be blessed” [which clearly does not mean “make yourself blessed”]. indicates that the associated word belongs to the category of a god, and
Likewise in Exodus 19:6, Leviticus 26:12, and 1 Samuel 8:17, these words that are accompanied by the DINGIR determinative include the gods
passages are not saying that the people ought to make themselves and their cultic objects, geographic locations, periods of time, people, and
priests/slaves. So, returning to 1 Peter 1:15, it is an exhortation to a abstract concepts. Here is a summary of cognates with the Hebrew qdš:
particular kind of behavior, as opposed to a declaration of a conferred
status. Furthermore, Peter’s use of the Greek ginesthe [for “be”] is Akkadian
Usage DINGIR/ilu Hebrew qdš Ugaritic qdš
different to the Greek esesthe that the LXX uses in Leviticus 19:2. In other qašdum
words, the LXX form is future indicative of the Greek eimi [or “to be”], “Holy
while Peter’s is present imperative of ginomai [or “to come into being”]. Designation
Divine One/God” Reference
Also, the use of ginesthe again in 1 Peter 1:16 is a common variant, and Definition for El and
Title/Attribute [Isaiah 1:4; to deities
esesthe is better attested, but esesthe cannot be translated as an imperative. Athirat
Joshua 24:19]
Thus, Peter was invoking a contemporary 1st century understanding of Ziggurats Ark
what holiness means, in order to exhort his readers to a particular kind of Cultic
Temples Altar Sanctuary Temples
behavior. In fact, Peter’s exhortation also applies to all Christians beyond Sites/Objects
Cult Objects Holy Place
the original audience of his letter! So, Peter’s appropriation of Leviticus Chaos
19:2 did not constitute a demand for all Christians to read Leviticus 19:2 Creatures Creatures The Divine
as a guide to the particulars of moral behavior. Instead, Peter was Belonging to the [Anzu/Tiamat] Council – –
referencing the LXX for his own purposes, not telling his audience Unseen Realm Demons [Psalm 82]
[ancient or modern] how Leviticus 19:2 ought to be read or what the text [dlemnu]
meant in its original context, which was a declaration that a status was Mountains Zion Baal’s
conferred: Israel will, in fact, be holy! Thus, what does it mean to be holy? Places River
Rivers Jerusalem mountain
In the context of the ancient Near East, it conceptually refers to the essence Sabbath/
of divinity, that which belongs to the sphere of God’s being or activity. Months Jubilee
There is a term from a cognate Semitic language that also refers to the Periods of Time dedicated to [Isaiah 8:3; – –
essence of divinity and also significantly overlaps with the semantic range deities Leviticus
of Hebrew qdš: the determinative Sumerian DINGIR [or Akkadian ilu]. 25:12]
Sumerian signs often serve as logograms [or signs that represent whole Priests
words], and are conventionally represented in transliteration by using Persons Cult
King [Leviticus –
small caps. Some logograms are used in Akkadian as determinatives to [Individual] Officiants
21:7]
graphically indicate the class of objects to which they belong. Thus, Professions Nation/Land
DINGIR is used in this way and in transliteration is represented as a Minerals [Exodus 19:6;
superscript d in front of the word that it classifies [like dMarduk]. So, the Abstractions – –
Abstract Zechariah
logogram AN is equivalent to the Akkadian word šamû [or “heaven”], and Concepts 2:12]
the logogram DINGIR is equivalent to the Akkadian word ilum [or “god”].

The Hebrew language, like English, does not use determinatives, but the
category concept [represented by the determinative] can still be used. For
example, in English, the semantic equivalent of the Sumerian
determinative MI can be expressed variously by an adjective [female], a
noun [woman], a pronoun [she], a stative verb [feminized], or a compound
noun [congresswoman]. Interestingly, there is no Hebrew adjective
comparable to English divine. Instead, the adjectival form of the Hebrew
ʾelohîm [for “god”] means “great” and not having the essential properties
of a deity, much like English cyclopian [which also incidentally means
“large”] as not having the essential properties of a cyclops [only one eye].
Andrew Steinmann [21st century biblical scholar] says: “At times Hebrew
uses ‘God’ as a way of describing someone or something that is
surpassingly great: ‘a very great panic’ (‘a panic of God’; 1 Samuel
14:15); ‘like mighty mountains’ (‘like mountains of God’; Psalm 36:6); ‘a
very great city’ (‘a great city to God’; Jonah 3:3).”
So, despite the lexical differences, the Hebrew qdš has considerable
semantic overlap with DINGIR and ilu. Thus, while recognizing that
Israel’s overall theology differs from that of the ancient Near East, we can
still examine the ideas represented by the various elements to try to better
understand what idea is represented by the classification of a thing as holy.
Thus, DINGIR [as a noun or a determinative] refers to the gods and the
various elements that compose their individual identities.
Michael Hundley [21st century ancient Near Eastern scholar] explains:
“How does one navigate this complex system of deities? How are these
deities connected and distinguished? Whereas Mesopotamian narratives
often portray each individual deity as a single, fully integrated whole,
other texts like rituals, god lists, and hymns are far more fluid in their
presentation. Nonetheless, even within narrative there is some fluidity of
presentation. Deities may adopt elements they did not previously possess
(most notably Marduk and storm power in Enuma eliš), appear in different
guises, and be described in different ways all within the same narrative.
For example, Enuma eliš describes Tiamat alternatively as water, a
woman (I:29–34, II:92, 144), a dragon–like creature (IV:97–104), and a
monstrous lump (IV:136). Indeed, transgressing otherwise discrete
empirical categories is a hallmark of the divine even in the narrative. The
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more a deity transgresses categories, the more powerful they often are. In
many cases there is often more than one manifestation or aspect of a
single deity, each of which appears simultaneously connected and distinct,
and many of which are connected with ‘inanimate’ objects. Thus, it would
seem that each deity may simultaneously adopt many forms and be in
many places at once. However, unlike in the rest of the ANE, there is little
evidence of the Mesopotamian deities of the 1st millennium changing
between their forms (changing from anthropomorphic to animal form).
Instead, while they simultaneously occupy forms at once, each form seems
to remain unchanging. Nonetheless, each deity also may come to occupy
new forms (a new cult image). Again, narrative conventions typically
present a deity as only occupying one body at a time. For example, most
major gods are identified with an anthropomorphically conceived divine
person, a statue, a number, a semiprecious stone, a mineral, an animal, an
emblem, a star, a constellation or other celestial entity, and various
characteristic qualities. Ištar, in particular, is simultaneously identified as
a divine person who dwells in heaven, yet is localized in terrestrial temples
(most prominently Arbela and Nineveh), the planet Venus, the number 15,
the semiprecious stone lapis lazuli, and the mineral lead, and understood
as the embodiment of such qualities as love and war. Ištar may also be
alternatively presented as male and female. Each of these interconnected
divine networks composed of many distinct elements may be viewed as a
divine constellation in which the various elements are connected to a more
or less unified entity and share in its identity. In other words, each major
god consists of a constellation of aspects, which may act and be treated
semi–independently. Most divine constellations consist of several
connected deified aspects, with an anthropomorphic core that is always
deified and other occasionally deified elements like heavenly bodies,
abstract qualities, and metals. Each aspect represents a competency,
whether it means control over a specific natural element or force (a star
or a metal), function (writing), quality (truth), or geographical area
(local temples). Like a star cluster, the elements in the network closest to
the anthropomorphic core are more firmly connected to that core and, as
one moves further out from the center, the core exerts an increasingly
smaller gravitational pull, giving these elements greater independence.
Thus, most major deities are made up of several detachable parts that
may be treated independently or as a unit depending on the context and
the interpreter’s perspective and rhetorical purposes. Like LEGO, each

major deity can be taken apart and put back together again. Again, gods
in narratives typically do not exhibit such fluidity, likely because too much
of it would make the deities appear nonsensical. Nonetheless, even in the
context of narratives, while one does not modify deities at will, deities’
attributes, names, epithets, and appearances may be modified according to
the dictates of the context. In fact, the primary aim of Enuma eliš is to
creatively modify or rebrand Marduk in such a way that he warrants
being king of the gods. In Mesopotamia, the whole deity is considered the
sum of its parts, and with each newly added part the whole deity becomes
greater. Mesopotamians adopt an additive approach: often the more
aspects added, the more potent the deity. The addition of (new) aspects
was often accomplished through the accumulation of names or epithets by
which the aspects were verbally ascribed to a particular deity (Marduk’s
accumulation of 50 names served as the accumulation of aspects; or the
accumulation of 15 names by Ninurta in the Anzu myth). As in a communal
human society, the more important functions an individual performs, the
more value they have. Nonetheless, they nowhere synthesize all the parts
into one cohesive whole; rather they amass and juxtapose a representative
sample, which always may be increased or expressed differently. To do so,
they would have to subtract ‘conflicting’ elements to make the whole
cohesive, at least according to modern Western standards, making the
deity less rather than more. Although a deity’s range may expand or in
some cases contract, it is not unlimited. A deity generally operates within a
more or less loosely defined range, determined by its primary attributes.
Even with divine fluidity, certain boundaries are not crossed. For
example, Sîn is not associated with the sun, Šamaš is not associated with
the moon, Aššur and Marduk are not the gods of Nippur, Marduk is not the
god of Assyria, and Aššur is not the god of Babylonia. In addition, several
other classes of deities rest outside of these divine constellations, outside
of the divine collective. Although they are related in some way to the
anthropomorphic deity, they are not part of the divine person. Aššur’s
crown is a god, but it is not Aššur. This slightly more peripheral category
includes divine accoutrements that belong to the deity, divine servants who
serve the major anthropomorphic deities, protective deities, hybrid
creatures (including so–called demons and monsters), rivers, mountains,
and illnesses. These deities may be subdivided into two broad categories:
interior and domesticated versus exterior and wild. Family, friends, the
divine entourage (servants), and the deified objects associated with the
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anthropomorphized deity belong to the domesticated interior. They are
closely affiliated with and often docilely serve the major
anthropomorphized deity, while rivers and mountains exist on the
periphery and remain wild and untamed. Generally, undomesticated
destructive forces on the outside, like demons, monsters, and illnesses, may
infiltrate the interior or alternately may be assimilated into the interior as
divine servants.”
So, divine personalities in the ancient Near East were not described by an
essential definition, but circumscribed by a list, and the purpose of the list
[what Michael Hundley calls “divine constellation”] was to establish
divine identity, specifically in distinction from separate aspects of the
same deity [like Ishtar of Arbela versus Ishtar of Nineveh], and from other
members of the pantheon. Thus, identity establishes the god’s place in the
heavenly bureaucracy, indicating what their responsibilities are, and
when/how their worshipers ought to relate to them. Also, some lesser
forms of DINGIR [like cult objects co–identified with the greater deity]
were occasionally treated as gods in their own right. In other words, they
were the object of rituals and presented with offerings to objects as diverse
as chariots, instruments, weapons, and beds. This is similar to 2 Samuel 6,
where David tried to transport the Ark of the Covenant [God’s throne or
footstool, a holy object, a lesser DINGIR], and the object is mishandled,
and one of the attendants is struck dead. The narrator, who represents the
voice of theological orthodoxy, takes care to note that it was God, not the
Ark, who struck Uzzah [2 Samiel 6:6], but David himself might not have
nuanced his understanding in this way, and his reaction gives insight into
his conception of the event. When he tries to move the Ark again, he offers
sacrifices every six steps as it moves along [2 Samuel 6:13]. Earlier at the
time of Moses when God gives instructions for the Ark’s transport
[Numbers 4:4–20], no mention is made of sacrifices, which indicates that
whatever David is doing, his inspiration for doing so comes from his
cognitive environment, not Israelite orthopraxy. To any observer, David’s
ritual actions would closely resemble those of the Assyrian officials who
made “sheep offerings” to the divine bed as they transport it. In fact,
David’s sacrifices did not match any of the prescribed offerings to God.
Thus, his sacrificial offerings to the Ark in the same way the Assyrians
offered sacrifices to the divine bed were performed in order to appease it
on its journey so that no one would be struck dead.

All of this ultimately supports the fact that labelling something as “holy”
means the same thing as a Mesopotamian labelling an object with a
DINGIR determinative. The orthodox narrator of 2 Samuel 6 neither
praises nor condemns David’s ritual, which represents an act of
syncretism, the mixing of religious systems, no matter what it is; the
sacrifice is simply reported. The reason for this was that the Ark was part
of God’s constellation [not a different deity from himself], as opposed to
Baal or Chemosh, who have their own distinct constellations. Incidentally,
the calf altars at Dan and Bethel [and also the golden calf at Sinai] were
also intended to be aspects of God. The difference in these cases is that
God [and orthodox Israel] did not recognize the legitimacy of these. In
other words, God did not declare them holy [as he did with the ark].
Similarly, the command to make no graven image of God [Exodus 20:4] is
given because images fragment the divine identity into separate aspects,
which, while still representing the same deity, are distinct enough that they
can even fight each other! So, if Arbela went to war against Nineveh, then
Ištar would be fighting against Ištar! Thus, Israelite orthodoxy could not
allow God’s identity to be fragmented in this way, and there could not be a
“Yahweh of Jerusalem” and “Yahweh of Samaria.” This is why there was
only one sanctioned Temple [in Jerusalem] and one sanctioned image [the
Ark], and no other image or cult center was tolerated [Deuteronomy 12].
So, the narrative focus is on David’s respect and deference to the divine, in
contrast with Saul [2 Samuel 6:20–23], and also implicitly with Hophni,
Phinehas, and the elders [1 Samuel 4; 8], not on his understanding of the
nuances of the definition of divinity. But, Israelite orthodoxy is consistent
with Mesopotamian definitions even while expressing theological
innovations. For example, in Mesopotamia, the DINGIR that constituted
the heavenly council would be an object of worship in its own right.
However, in Israel, although God’s divine council is holy, it did not
receive worship! So, entities from the unseen realm that participated in a
divine identity were not worshiped; DINGIR like the dlemnu [or “demons”]
and chaos creatures [like Anzu/Tiamat] in Mesopotamia. Likewise,
orthodox Israel expanded this category of DINGIR to include every
element of the unseen realm to not be worshiped except God, while also
retaining the concept of what the Hebrew qdš actually meant. This is why
Israel’s sanctifying of locations is comparable to the Mesopotamian
conception of geography [like a mountain or river] that is in the
constellation of the divine patron of the feature [who shares its name].
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So, physical rocks or water are sometimes a DINGIR, depending on how
strongly the literary context wants to emphasize co–identification with its
patron. Nonetheless, even if it is a DINGIR, the rocks and water are not
considered to have been physically transferred into the divine sphere; they
are not holy ground where mortals must tread carefully or die. In this sense
they have more in common with Israel’s holy land, which involves the
divinization of the abstraction of territory as opposed to the physical
objects [like water and rocks]. Mesopotamia does have a DINGIR
counterpart to Israel’s holy ground [and Ugarit’s divine mountain
residences] in the form of ziggurats, temples, and the architectural
components of temples [like doorways, pipes, and the pedestal on which
the image stands, like a counterpart to Israel’s holy place]. Thus, the
DINGIR and the Hebrew qdš emphasizes divine co–identification, so the
designation here marks the area as divine territory because the deity is now
present in it and manifested through it. The identification of the space,
building, or ritual object with the god, incorporates it into the unseen
realm, and this is similar to how a modern embassy co–identifies its
buildings and the piece of property it is built on with its sponsoring
country, such that it is considered an extension of its sovereign nation
despite its location on another nation’s physical dirt. Thus, these parallels
continue in the context of kings in Mesopotamia and priests in Israel.
These deified individuals are not elevated to the status of the pantheon,
because there is no record of DINGIR kings receiving sacrifices, and
deified images of Assyrian kings never received worship or offerings.
Gebhard Selz [21st century ancient Near Eastern scholar] summarizes:
“The deified professions or offices do not simply reflect an intentional and
wilful process of sanctification invented for securing the ruling elite’s
position or to stabilize the structure of society. These items could only be
included in the class of divinities because of an existing prototypical
relation to the divine sphere. In other words, it was the idea, the model or
the prototype of the classes ‘Seamen,’ the ‘Temple Experts,’ the ‘Brick–
Makers of the Temple,’ the ‘Lords of the Granary,’ the ‘Temple–Cooks of
Uruk,’ the ‘Gardeners,’ the ‘Barmaids,’ the ‘Tax Collectors,’ the
‘Overseers,’ the ‘Wet–Nurses,’ and so on, which qualified them for
inclusion in the group of divinities. It is interesting to see that some of
these prototypical professions are explicitly personalized. As for the
deified items or paraphernalia, the situation has to be judged somewhat

differently. Here it is not the office but the item that stands in a
synecdochical way for certain concepts: the ‘Crown,’ the ‘Headband’ or
‘Turban,’ ‘the ‘Princely Ring,’ the ‘Staff of the Leader,’ the ‘Nose–Rope’
do not only allude to the respective offices and are not only an outward
sign for them. Rather, these items were actually thought to contain the
respective powers of the respective offices, and these powers were literally
tangible, hence their prototypes qualified also for inclusion in the class
of deities. Statements such as that the ‘crown’ and the ‘staff,’ the regalia,
existed since time immemorial in the heavens and were before the sky–god
An, or that ‘kingship was lowered from heaven to earth’ become sensible,
even logical. One may still judge such statements as metaphorical, but
they are meaningful and precise, much more than wilful traditional
literary plays. It would seem worth following this path and attempting to
identify the more precise ideas behind such deified items as the ‘Lapis
Lazuli Necklace,’ the ‘Stele,’ the ‘Stag–Door’ or the ‘Aurochs–Door,’ the
‘Holy Foundation Peg’ or the ‘Emblem.’ In our context I only remark that,
similar to what we observed with the offices, such items were sometimes
also personalized, for example, the ‘Lady Sceptre,’ the ‘Lady Birth–Brick
is a Protective Goddess.’ In much the same way, contemporary and
slightly later administrative documents focus on officials and offices, not
on the persons holding them. Very much like the iconography of this
period, the beginning of the 3rd millennium, the images seem to
concentrate on prototypes rather than on depicting individuals. The
representations of human beings show a kind of statuary stiffness and
rigidity that is usually underlined by paratactic and hypotactic
arrangement of the individual figures on a given monument. Even when
actions are depicted, their ritualization and formalization can hardly be
overlooked. The stress lies on the prototypical situation, the model
personality behind which all individuality seems to vanish. The sort of
deified offices and functions show clear connections with the basic
Mesopotamian concept of the ‘me’. With this term the Sumerians
designated physical and mental objects alike. Prototype theory here has
the advantage that there is no distinction between a natural sort of
category versus artefact as our Aristotelian training inclines us to
suppose, and, as indicated above, to the Mesopotamians apparently all
these functions and concepts were not only represented by, but were also
inherent in, these objects: for instance, rulership is inherent and contained
in substance in royal insignia. In other words, these objects were not
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mere ‘attributes’; they were thought to contain ‘ideas’ materially. The
concept of rulership is therefore primarily linked to objects like the sceptre
and the crown, to the ‘office,’ and only to a lesser degree to the person
holding that office. Here we may simply recall the well–known fact that in
Mesopotamia permanence has various positive connotations, as can be
simply demonstrated by the use of the words gi–na // kÏnu(m) ‘firm,
permanent’ as opposed to nu–gi–na / lul / lú–im // sarru(m) ‘unreliable;
false, fraudulent.’ The impact of the concept of the sanctification of
rulership is demonstrated by the secondary sanctification processes of the
Akkade and the Ur III periods. A result of such objectification processes
was the sanctification of rulership. At first sight, the fact that the very
same period can also justly be termed Sumer’s Heroic Age seems
somewhat to contradict this postulated formalism. All the heroes,
Gilgamesh, Lugalbanda, and Enmerkar were, however, conceptualized
as prototypes of rulership and only to a lesser degree—if at all—as
historical individuals. They were regarded as prototype rulers who had
fulfilled their functions in an exemplary way. Already from around 2500
BC, there is a votive inscription to the deified Gilgamesh that gives no hint
as to how one could functionally distinguish him from other deities of that
time. Further, the offerings Gilgamesh receives according to the
administrative documents of this period are much the same as those for
other deities. The hero Enmerkar was never written with the divine
determinative and, in contrast to Lugalbanda and Gilgamesh, was never
venerated. In later literary tradition he was compared with Naram–Sîn
and similarly ill–famed.”
In other words, the individual is the embodiment of the sacred office that
they hold; the office sanctifies the individual, not the other way around.
The sacredness of the office, in turn, indicates its origin in the divine realm
as Gebhard Selz says: “kingship was lowered from heaven to earth.”
However, beyond mere origin, Mesopotamian kings were actually thought
to belong to the divine realm, serving as mediators between the gods and
the people. In other words, the king was not simply an exalted man, but
someone with a place in the divine world, and there was an emphasis on
the office over the individual [a DINGIR on the king’s image rather than
the king’s personal name]. Thus, by being co–identified with a divine
office, the individual was effectively incorporated into the divine realm in
order to then receive the DINGIR determinative.

However, like chaos creatures, they do not receive worship [or ritual
offerings], and were never considered actual members of the pantheon.
Thus, in Israel, the divine office with a mediatory role was held not by the
kings, but by the priests! The details of the role differ, but the point of the
comparison is not to say that Israelite priests are the same as
Mesopotamian kings. The point is to say that the comparative use of
DINGIR and the Hebrew qdš did not designate the individual as a god
[whether king or priest]. As with the kings, the Israelite priests indicated
that their priestly office had a divine origin; it was instituted by God rather
than by the people [Exodus 28:1; 1 Samuel 8]. Although the
Mesopotamian kings were DINGIR, the Israelite kings were never qdš.
Nevertheless, the priests were part of the divine realm, enabling them to
enter the sanctuary without defiling it or dying. Thus, it appears that the
Hebrew qdš indicates that it means the same thing as DINGIR and ilu,
signifying that the element so designated was part of the divine
constellation of a particular deity or a participant in a divine office.
In summary, holiness in the ancient Near East was identifying something
as associated with the realm of deity. Many assume that, by keeping the
Torah, Israel would become holy, and that holiness is another word for
piety or for morality, or that the Torah was intended to tell the Israelites
what they ought to do in order to be pious or moral. Likewise, many think
that we are to pursue holiness [the same piety and morality] by obeying the
same rules in order to achieve holiness. This is mistaken and misses the
point. Holiness is connected to the objective of the Torah, but the Torah
does not consist of rules to be obeyed. Thus, its objective is not achieved
by obeying rules. It is common for people to believe that holiness is
something that godly people should aspire to achieve as they attempt to
imitate God. However, God declares his people holy by election decree. It
is a status that he gives, and it cannot be gained or lost by a person’s
efforts or failures. Thus, holiness is the word that identifies elements of the
“constellation” that collectively defines divine identity. In other words,
ancient Near Eastern divine personalities were circumscribed by lists of
attributes that collectively served to establish their identities. These
distinguished between different aspects of the same deity and between
different members of the pantheon, which in turn designated their realm of
patronage and function within the cosmic bureaucracy and indicated the
ways in which their worshipers ought to relate to them, and the
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“constellation” refers to all the elements that compose this list. So, the
elements of the “constellation” were sometimes considered to be divine in
their own right and sometimes not, depending on context and the intimacy
of their association with the deity. Thus, the Hebrew qdš was to designate
the referent as part of God’s “constellation.” Here is a summary:
1. The Hebrew qdš was a term used in reference to God to describe
the full constellation of all that is associated with him, and holiness
included objects [Ark], places [Temple], time [Sabbath], land
[Jerusalem], and communities [Israel].
2. Labelling something “holy” identifies it as one of the spheres of
patronage that collectively define God’s identity: “I’ll take you for
my own people, and I’ll be your God” [Exodus 6:7]. This is
because the Hebrew qādôš is the semantic equivalent of the
Akkadian determinative DINGIR, which was also applied to a
similar range of objects and abstractions.
3. When a thing becomes holy, whether that thing is the abstract
community of Israel or an object like the Ark or the sanctuary, it
means that whatever that thing is or does in some way identifies
something about what God is or does.
4. Holiness is a status given by God to Israel that makes the nation a
part of his identity by virtue of his making a covenant with them.
Israel’s holy status means that God has defined himself as “the God
of Israel.” By making the covenant with them and giving them this
status, he has brought them into his constellation.
5. Holiness is a status that is conferred; it cannot be earned, acquired,
or lost by behaviour.
6. Holiness is not defined by imitating God; rather, God makes the
people holy by identifying himself through his people.
7. For the nation of Israel to be holy means that God will identify and
reveal himself through his interaction with them.

8. It is the community of Israel that is holy, not the individual.
Certainly each individual has a part to play in the identity of the
community, but the focus is on the identity of the group. Only
priests and prophets as individuals were holy.
So, when God made the covenant with the Israelites and declared them to
be his holy people, he declared himself to be their God and declared that
his identity will be reflected by and through them [their status changes].
But, what does this mean for them? What significance will this new status
have for their behaviour? How will this status create a different situation
for them practically speaking? We assume that holiness correlates to a
specific moral character, or that it refers to the moral character of God that
we are supposedly to imitate through obedience to the Torah. Thus,
reflecting God’s identity entails cultivating a particular moral character by
means of obeying the Torah [which will reflect God’s moral character].
However, this is not what the Torah is talking about:
1. The stipulations of the Torah were not rules to be obeyed; they are
descriptive. The objective of reading them is knowing, and not
doing or being.
2. Holiness is a status that is conferred, not earned; Israel is equally
holy whether the nation keeps the covenant or not. Thus, the holy
status is not an objective to strive for.
3. In the ancient Near East, people did not aspire to imitate the gods,
and the gods did not expect their worshipers to imitate them.
Humans were humans and gods were gods; they had different
functions and different natures and were evaluated by different
standards. The gods were inscrutable and unaccountable to human
moral standards, and their motives and actions were mysterious and
incomprehensible to humans. Israel would have conceived of God
in the same way; nothing in the Torah provided them with any
resource for thinking differently about their God, and because of
God’s role as their king, the Israelites [or at least their leaders]
would have aspired to emulate God’s wisdom and justice, just as a
vassal regent would aspire to emulate the wisdom and justice of the
king. However, such emulation is not what holiness [which occurs
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primarily in the context of ritual literature] refers to. Ruling the
vassal state with wisdom and justice is the means by which to
retain God’s favour and blessing; it is not the means by which
Israel will achieve holiness.
So, holiness is always descriptive of deity, even when the referent of the
adjective is something else, and holiness does not describe a property of
Israel; it describes a property of God. In the ancient Near East, identifying
an element as part of a divine “constellation” does not say anything about
the element; it says something about the deity to whose “constellation” the
element belongs. For example, saying that Ares is the “god of war” does
not tell us anything about war; it tells us something about Ares. So, when
God brings the nation of Israel into his “constellation” by declaring it holy,
he declares himself to all observers to be the kind of God who would be
patron to a nation like Israel. In fact, by doing this, God has no intention of
abandoning Israel, and this is one of the qualities he wishes to project
through his relationship with his people: faithfulness. This is expressed by
the Hebrew ʾahab [or “love”] and ḥesed [or “loyalty”]. At the same time,
God does not want to be characterized by indulgence. Instead, his
character is expressed in commitment to order, wisdom, and justice. If
Israel characterizes itself by order, wisdom, and justice, then God will be
pleased with the way the nation reflects on him and will give them blessing
and prosperity so that everyone can see that he is pleased. On the other
hand, if Israel characterizes itself by disorder and injustice [as they often
did], then God will demonstrate his own commitment to wisdom, order,
and justice by inflicting judgment on them so that everyone can see that he
is angry. As a consequence of God’s judgment, Israel can be perceived as
a nation whose God is unable to protect it from the enemy armies who
conquer his people and destroy his Temple [as in the context of Daniel].
This is also demonstrated in the words of Sennacherib [king of Assyria]:
“Sometime later, the king of Assyria sent Tartan, Rab–saris, and Rab–
shakeh from Lachish to King Hezekiah in Jerusalem, accompanied with a
large army. When they called for the king, Hilkiah’s son Eliakim, who
managed the household, Shebnah the scribe, and Asaph’s son Joah the
recorder went out to them. Rab–shakeh told them, ‘Tell Hezekiah right
now, ‘This is what the great king, the king of Assyria says: ‘Why are you
so confident? You’re saying—but they’re only empty words—‘I have
enough advice and resources to conduct warfare!’ Now who are you

relying on, that you have rebelled against me? Look, you’re trusting on
Egypt to lean on like a staff, but it’s a crushed reed, and if you lean on it, it
will collapse and pierce your hand. Pharaoh, king of Egypt, is just like that
to everyone who relies on him! Of course, you might tell me, ‘We rely on
the Lord our God!’ But isn’t it he whose high places and whose altars
Hezekiah has demolished, all the while telling Jerusalem, ‘You’re to
worship in front of this altar in Jerusalem’? Come now, and make a deal
with my master, the king of Assyria, and I’ll give you 2,000 horses, if you
can furnish them with riders. How can you refuse even one official from
the least of my master’s servants and rely on Egypt for chariots and
horsemen? Now then, haven’t I come up—apart from the Lord—to attack
and destroy this place? The Lord told me, ‘Go up against this land and
destroy it!’ At this, Hilkiah’s son Eliakim, Shebnah, and Joah asked Rab–
shakeh, ‘Please speak to your servants in Aramaic, because we understand
it, but don’t speak the language of Judah to us within the hearing of the
people who are on the wall.’ But Rab–shakeh spoke to them, ‘Has my
master sent me to talk about this just to your master and to you, and not
also to the men who are sitting on the wall, who will soon be eating their
own faeces and drinking their own urine—along with you?’ Then Rab–
shakeh stood up and cried out loud, ‘Listen to what the great king, the king
of Assyria has to say. This is what the king says: ‘Don’t let Hezekiah
deceive you, because he will prove to be unable to deliver you from my
control. And don’t let Hezekiah make you trust in the Lord by telling you,
‘The Lord will certainly deliver us and this city will not be handed over to
the king of Assyria.’ Don’t listen to Hezekiah, because this is what the king
of Assyria says: ‘Make peace with me and come out to me! Each of you
will eat from his own vine. Each will eat from his own fig tree. And each of
you will drink water from his own cistern until I come and take you away
to a land like your own land, one overflowing with grain and new wine, a
land filled with bread and vineyards, with olive trees and honey, so you
may live and not die.’ But don’t listen to Hezekiah when he misleads you
by saying, ‘The Lord will deliver us!’ Has any of the gods of the nations
delivered his land from control by the king of Assyria? Where are the gods
of Hamath and Arpad? Where are the gods of Sephar–vaim, of Hena, and
Ivvah? Have they delivered Samaria from my control? Who among all the
gods of these lands has delivered their land from my control, so that the
Lord should deliver Jerusalem from me?’” [2 Kings 18:17–35]
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So, how did God respond to this taunt by the Assyrian king? We read:
“Then Amoz’s son Isaiah sent word to Hezekiah, ‘This is what the Lord,
the God of Israel says: ‘Because you have prayed to me about King
Sennacherib of Assyria, I have listened.’ This is what the Lord has spoken
against him: ‘She despises and mocks you, this virgin daughter of Zion!
Behind your back she shakes her head, this daughter of Jerusalem! Who
are you reproaching and blaspheming? Against whom have you raised
your voice? And against whom have you lifted up your eyes in arrogance?
Against the Holy One of Israel! By your messengers you have insulted the
Lord. You have claimed, ‘With my many chariots I ascended the heights of
the mountains, including the remotest regions of Lebanon; I cut down its
tall cedars and the best of its cypress trees. I entered its most remote
lodging place and its most fruitful forest. I myself dug for and drank
foreign water. With the sole of my foot I dried up all the streams of Egypt!
Didn’t you hear? I determined it years ago! I planned this from ancient
times, and now I’ve brought it to pass, to turn fortified cities into piles of
ruins while their inhabitants, lacking strength, stand dismayed and
confused. They were like vegetation out in the fields, and like green
herbs—just as grass that grows on a housetop dries out before it can grow.
But when you sit down, when you go out, and when you come in, I’m
aware of it! Because of your rage against me, your complacency has
reached my ears. I’ll put my hook into your nostrils and my bit into your
mouth. Then I’ll turn you back on the road by which you came. This will
serve as a sign for you: you’ll eat this year from what grows by itself, in
the second year what grows from that, and in the third year you’ll sow,
reap, plant vine–yards, and enjoy their fruit. Those who survive from
Judah’s household will again put down deep roots and bear fruit
extensively, because a remnant will go out from Jerusalem, and survivors
from Mount Zion. The zeal of the Lord will bring this about.’ Therefore
this is what the Lord says concerning the king of Assyria: ‘Not only will he
not approach this city or shoot an arrow in its direction, he won’t
approach it with so much as a shield, nor will he throw up a siege ramp
against it. He’ll return on the same route by which he came—he won’t
come to this city,’ declares the Lord. ‘I will defend this city and preserve
it for my own reasons, and because of my servant David.’ That very
night, the angel of the Lord went out to the camp of the Assyrian army and
killed 185,000 men. Early the next morning, when the army of Israel arose,
all 185,000 soldiers were dead. As a result, King Sennacherib of Assyria

left and returned to Nineveh where he lived. Later on, as he was
worshiping in the temple of his god Nisroch, Adram–melech and Sharezer
killed him with a sword and fled into the territory of Ararat. Then
Sennacherib’s son Esarhaddon became king.” [2 Kings 19:20–37]
After the Babylonian exile, a similar accusation is levelled against God, to
which he responds through Ezekiel with the promise to restore his people:
“This message came to me from the Lord: ‘Son of Man, when the house of
Israel was living on their own land, they defiled it with their lifestyles and
behaviour; they were as disqualified to be with me as a menstruating
woman is to you. So I poured out my anger on them because of all the
bloodshed throughout the land and because they had defiled it with their
idolatry. Then I scattered them among the nations, dispersing them to
other lands, just as their lifestyles and behaviour deserved. That’s how I
judged them. Nevertheless, when they arrived in those nations, they
continued to profane my holy name. It was said about them, ‘These are the
Lord’s people, even though they’ve left his land.’ I’ve been concerned
about my holy reputation, which the house of Israel has been defiling
throughout all of the nations where they’ve gone.’ Therefore tell the house
of Israel, this is what the Lord God says: ‘I’m not about to act for your
sake, you house of Israel, but for the sake of my holy reputation, which
you have been defiling throughout all of the nations where you’ve gone.
I’m going to affirm my great reputation that has been defiled among the
nations (that is, that you have defiled in their midst), and those people will
learn that I am the Lord,’ declares the Lord God, ‘when I affirm my
holiness in front of their very eyes. I’m going to remove you from the
nations, gather you from all of the territories, and bring you all back to
your own land. I’ll sprinkle pure water on you all, and you’ll be cleansed
from your impurity and from all of your idols. I’m going to give you a new
heart, and I’m going to give you a new spirit within all of your deepest
parts. I’ll remove that rock–hard heart of yours and replace it with one
that’s sensitive to me. I’ll place my spirit within you, empowering you to
live according to my regulations and to keep my just decrees. You’ll live in
the land that I gave to your ancestors, you’ll be my people, and I will be
your God. In addition, I’ll deliver you from everything that makes you
unclean. I’ll call out to the grain you plant, ordering it to produce
abundant yields, and I will never bring famine in your direction. I’ll
increase the yields of your fruit trees and crops so that you’ll never again
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experience the disgrace of famine that occurs in other nations. Then you’ll
remember your lifestyles and practices that were not good. You’ll hate
yourselves as you look at your own iniquities and loathsome practices. I
won’t be doing any of this for your sake,’ declares the Lord God, ‘so keep
that in mind. Be ashamed and frustrated because of your behaviour, you
house of Israel!’” [Ezekiel 36:16–32]
Thus, notice that God’s concern is for his “holy reputation” and not for
Israel’s moral or social condition. Also notice that the restoration is
specifically for the sake of God’s reputation and is not prompted by a
desire to give anything to Israel. Nevertheless, as their God, Israel’s
condition reflects on him, and God does not wish to be seen as defeated by
a ruined and dispossessed people. So, all of God’s interactions with Israel
was to establish his reputation. In other words, God uses Israel to reveal
himself! God establishes and projects his identity and reputation before
both Israel and the surrounding nations. Consequently, God establishes
himself according to the principles of faithfulness, wisdom, order, and
justice, because those were the highest values in the ancient Near East.
Thus, the understanding of order, justice, and faithfulness is circumscribed
in the legal wisdom and treaty documents of the Torah. However, we
should not assume that God wishes to stamp an endorsement on these
conceptions for all time, as if all people in all places and all times who
serve God would be expected to reproduce the cultural values of the
ancient Near East. Likewise, we should not assume that we can substitute
our own definitions for those words and claim that this is what God
supports instead. It further does not mean that we can assume that God
endorses whatever the highest values of any given society happen to be. In
the modern 21st century context, this would be such things as freedom,
equality, self–expression, and general human flourishing. Instead, we
should understand God’s self–revelation not in terms of absolutes or
universals, but rather in terms of contrast. In other words, faithfulness,
order, and justice were not qualities that were normally associated with
ancient Near Eastern gods [although they desired that sort of behaviour
from their worshipers]. God has effectively told the Israelites that he is a
different kind of deity than their culture would lead them to expect of a
deity! Thus, because the purpose of God’s self–revelation was not to
enable the creation of theology textbooks, the details of God’s character
remain elusive.
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Israel was supposed to learn that God cares about the human world, takes
responsibility for his creatures, is concerned for their well–being, and is
not merely interested in exploiting them to gain some benefit from them.
Israel was a means to an end for revelation, but the people also gained
benefits in the form of God’s blessing, favour, and presence, which were
highly desired in the ancient Near East. So, unlike their neighbours, the
Israelites knew what they had to do to retain their God’s favour; they had
no reason to fear retribution for random or unknown offenses. Thus, for
Christians, this understanding helps to make sense of the incarnation,
knowing that Jesus is the incarnate 2nd Yahweh and not an ancient Near
Eastern god, a Greco–Roman god, or an abstract philosophical god. In
contrast, most people do not have these assurances about their gods,
especially not in the ancient world, where the gods did not reveal their
expectations, and saw humanity only as a means to an end for serving
themselves. This is why, at the time of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream, he
appraised Daniel as being someone special: “the spirit of the holy gods is Although Nebuchadnezzar shared his dream to his wise men [v. 7], now he
within him.” This was similar to his assessment of the 4th person in the relates it to Daniel. The “tree” represents both Nebuchadnezzar and his
furnace with Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego: “the appearance of the kingdom, since Daniel says: “it’s you, your majesty! You’ve become great
fourth resembles a divine being” [recall Daniel 3:25]. Nebuchadnezzar and strong, your greatness has grown to the heavens, and your dominion
could not correctly explain Daniel’s unique ability, but he was sure that reaches to the distant parts of the earth” [later in v. 22]. However, Daniel
Daniel was spiritual and had divine help, so he asks: “Belteshazzar, chief also says: “it was ordered for you to leave the stump of the tree in the
of the diviners, since I know that the spirit of the holy gods is within you, ground along with its roots, so your kingdom will be restored to you when
and no mystery too difficult for you, explain to me the vision of my dream you realize that Heaven rules over everything” [later in v. 26].
that I saw, along with its interpretation.”

The phrase “no mystery too difficult for you” is also echoed by Ezekiel,
saying to the ruler of Tyre: “Look! You’re wiser than Daniel, aren’t you?
No secret is too mysterious for you!” [Ezekiel 28:3]

5) What was Nebuchadnezzar’s dream? (4:10–18)

Starting with vv. 10–12, we read: “This is what I saw in the visions of my
head while in bed: I was looking and—listen carefully!—I saw a tree in the
middle of the earth, the height of which was very great. The tree grew
large, became strong, and its top reached the sky. It could be seen to the
ends of the earth. Its foliage was beautiful, its fruit bountiful, and its food
sufficient for everyone. The animals of the field found shade under it, the
birds of the sky lived in its branches, and every creature was fed from it.”
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In other words, the stump indicates that his kingdom was not completely Thus, it is to emphasize the
cut off. As in the case of the parts of the statue [recall Daniel 2], the difference between insignificant
symbolism is fluid enough to pertain to both the king and his kingdom. beginnings and the impressively
The metaphor of a “tree” as representing a kingdom is rooted in Old large end result. The reference to
Testament tradition [Isaiah 2:12–13; Ezekiel 31:3]. For Ezekiel, Assyria the “large branches” alludes to the
was likened to a great cedar in Lebanon: “That’s why it grew taller than imagery of impressive empires, as
any of the trees in the fields. Its boughs flourished. Its branches grew Daniel clarifies [later in v. 21],
luxurious because all the water made it spread out well. The birds in the indicating the future inclusion of
sky made nests in its boughs; all the beasts of the field gave birth under its Gentile nations in God’s kingdom.
branches. All the great nations rested in its shade.” [Ezekiel 31:5–6] So, the ministry of Jesus in Galilee,
however unimpressive its impact on
The point of this imagery in both Daniel and Ezekiel is to portray the Jewish society, and however
extensiveness of a human kingdom and those who are reliant upon and insignificant its political scope, will
benefit from such a kingdom. In comparison, Jesus said: “How can we prove to be of ultimate far–reaching
show what the kingdom of God is like, or what parable can we use to significance! So, the magnificent
describe it? It’s like a mustard seed planted in the ground. Although it’s tree of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream
the smallest of all the seeds on earth, when it’s planted it comes up and clarifies Ezekiel’s context about the
becomes larger than all the garden plants. It grows such large branches Davidic dynasty and the Egyptian
that the birds in the sky can nest in its shade.” [Mark 4:30–32] empire, since both feature towering
cedars, where birds live in the
Jesus was obviously alluding to Daniel and Ezekiel, to show that God’s shade and make nests in the
kingdom will not have its branches chopped off. The “mustard” is the sprawling branches. In other words,
brassica nigra [or black mustard], which can grow to a height of ~10 feet. these “birds” were great nations
In the 1st century, “mustard” was used to treat serpent and scorpion bites, that benefitted from Egypt’s wealth and protection, which means the
toothache, indigestion, asthma, epilepsy, constipation, dropsy, lethargy, “birds” of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream was also a transparent symbol for
tetanus, leprous sores, and many other illnesses. So, since this “seed” of Gentile nations, because Daniel says that “your dominion reaches to the
the mustard plant was popular, it was described as “the smallest of all the distant parts of the earth” [later in v. 22]. Thus, Jesus incorporated similar
seeds on earth.” In other words, the smallness of the “mustard seed” was imagery into his “mustard seed” parable by showing that, despite its
proverbial [it takes ~750 seeds from the black mustard to make ~1 g]. humble and unpretentious beginnings, God’s kingdom will achieve
Although critical scholars scoff that Jesus needed to use horticultural spectacular growth. Whether the imagery of the nesting birds simply
precision, they ironically ignore the deliberate hyperbolic precision that indicated the size of the tree, or whether it symbolized specific nations, the
Jesus utilizes for his cultural world’s use of language. In other words, it background of sprawling bird–havens in Daniel and Ezekiel reinforces the
would be ludicrous for us to expect Jesus utilizing 21st century lingo in imperial pretensions of God’s kingdom that will override human empires.
order to clarify to 1st century hearers that the “mustard seed ranks in the So, in the 1st century, God’s kingdom did not look very impressive, and
upper 1/10th of 1% of smallness in seed sizes.” Instead, Jesus describes its some questioned whether it existed at all. In fact, it appeared to look like a
hyperbolic growth by asserting that it becomes “larger than all the garden defeated, powerless, ragtag group of followers. But, what is real is not
plants” with reference to “large branches” on which “birds” can “nest” so always obvious. What had begun in the Galilean ministry of Jesus would
that this mustard shrub hyperbolically stands out among the garden plants! one day [by the power of God] prove to be of ultimate significance!
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Though its power was hidden, it was not for that reason any less certain,
and its growth was spectacular, as first demonstrated at Pentecost [Acts 2].
The “mustard seed” that was planted through the ministry of Jesus will one
day be in full glorious foliage, and the dominion, glory, and eternal
kingship of Jesus will be evident to all, because it will be ruled by a gentle
and generous king. Unlike the short–lived kingdoms of many human
kings, God’s kingdom will have no end [Revelation 21–22]. The
expectation of such a future kingdom is especially good news to the
powerless, the oppressed, and the persecuted, living under human political
structures that pervert kingdom values [Revelation 17–18].

Peter Chrysologus [5th century Latin archbishop of Ravenna] says: “It is up

to us to sow this mustard seed in our minds and let it grow within us into a
great tree of understanding reaching up to heaven and elevating all our
faculties; then it will spread out branches of knowledge, the pungent
savour of its fruit will make our mouths burn, its fiery kernel will kindle a
blaze within us inflaming our hearts, and the taste of it will dispel our
unenlightened repugnance. Yes, it is true: a mustard seed is indeed an
image of the kingdom of God. Christ is the kingdom of heaven. Sown like a
mustard seed in the garden of the virgin’s womb, he grew up into the
tree of the cross whose branches stretch across the world. Crushed in the
mortar of the passion, its fruit has produced seasoning enough for the
flavouring and preservation of every living creature with which it comes in
contact. As long as a mustard seed remains intact, its properties lie
dormant; but when it is crushed they are exceedingly evident. So it was
with Christ; he chose to have his body crushed, because he would not have
his power concealed. Christ became all things in order to restore all of us
in himself. The man Christ received the mustard seed which represents the
kingdom of God; as man he received it, though as God he had always
possessed it. He sowed it in his garden, that is in his bride, the Church.
The Church is a garden extending over the whole world, tilled by the
plough of the gospel, fenced in by stakes of doctrine and discipline,
cleared of every harmful weed by the labour of the apostles, fragrant and
lovely with perennial flowers: virgins’ lilies and martyrs’ roses set amid
the pleasant verdure of all who bear witness to Christ and the tender
plants of all who have faith in him. Such then is the mustard seed which
Christ sowed in his garden. When he promised a kingdom to the
patriarchs, the seed took root in them; with the prophets it sprang up; with
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the apostles it grew tall; in the Church it became a great tree putting forth
innumerable branches laden with gifts. And now you too must take the
wings of the psalmist’s dove, gleaming gold in the rays of divine
sunlight, and fly to rest for ever among those sturdy, fruitful branches.
No snares are set to trap you there; fly off, then, with confidence and dwell
securely in its shelter.”

So, the tree’s location “in the middle of the earth” reflects the belief that
Babylon was situated in the same central geographical location on Earth.
This is depicted on an 8th century b.c. clay tablet [also known as the
Babylonian Map of the World] where the Earth is perceived as a flat
inscribed disk/compass upon which geographies are plotted, and encircling
this disk is an ocean called in Akkadian nar marratu [or “bitter river”],
which Gilgamesh crossed to reach Utnapishtim [or Noah who survived the
flooded Persian Gulf Oasis during the Younger Dryas ~12,000 years ago].

Paul Delnero [21st century Assyriologist] extensively explains the details:

“The Babylonian Map of the World (BM 92687), also known as the mappa
mundi, was first published in 1889 by the German Assyriologist Felix
Peiser, and it has generated an interest unrivalled by almost any other
object from Mesopotamia, inviting countless commentaries and
interpretations. While progress on understanding the map has undoubtedly
been made, and some of the research that has been published about it is
indeed groundbreaking, in many respects it remains, in the words of the
Classical Archaeologist and Historian, James Muhly: ‘one of our most
famous clay maps, a Babylonian map of the world (mappa mundi), a text
about which a great deal has been written, most of it nonsense.’ The map
consists of three distinct parts. On the obverse of the tablet there are 11
lines of a fragmentary inscription, in which various sea monsters and wild
animals are mentioned together with Utanapishtim, the mythological hero
who survived the Babylonian flood, and the rulers Sargon of Agade and
Nur–Dagan of Purushhanda, who are also known from Akkadian literary
legends, and in particular the composition ‘Sargon, King of Battle.’ This
inscription is followed by a drawing depicting Babylonia in the center, and

some neighbouring polities, regions, and topographic features, surrounded
by a ring a water, outside of which are five preserved, or partially
preserved triangular regions, all but one of which is labelled with the
Akkadian term nagû, which has been translated variously as ‘island’,
‘region’, and even, more recently by Finkel, as ‘mountain’. Inscriptions
are used throughout the map to identify or describe different places and
features. The ring of water separating the inner and outer areas of the map
is identified with the Akkadian word marratu, which means ‘Bitter Water’
or ‘Bitter River’, but is often translated ‘Ocean’. In addition to the label
nagû, written inside four of the five preserved triangles outside the ring of
water, all of the triangles are followed by inscriptions which identify their
distance from one point to another, and the uppermost triangle, near the
top of the map, which is the only one not labelled as a nagû, is identified
instead as ‘Great Wall’ (with the logogram BAD3 GU.LA). Lastly, on the
reverse of the tablet, there is an inscription divided into 9 or 10 sections,
all but one or two of which describe the individual nagû in the drawing on
the obverse. This inscription is followed by a colophon stating that the
tablet was copied from an older exemplar by Ea–bēl–ilī, the son of Işşuru.
Since Bīt–Yakin, one of the territories identified on the obverse of the map,
is first attested in the 9th century, but the inscriptions on the map can be
dated on paleographic grounds to the 6th century BCE, the content of the
map is usually assumed to date to sometime between the 9th and 6th
centuries BCE. The map, which is in the collection of the British Museum,
was given the same accession number as a large group of tablets from
Sippar, but because the father of the scribe named in the colophon has the
same name as the ancestor of a scribe from Borsippa, the tablet is often
thought to come from Borsippa. All of the interpretations of the Map of the
World that have been proposed to date can be grouped according to how
they attempt to answer the following questions: (1) What does the inner
circle of the map on the obverse depict? (2) What do the triangular areas
outside the ring of water represent, and what is their relation to what is
depicted in the inner circle of the map? (3) What does the text on the
obverse describe, and how does the text relate to the map and the text on
the reverse of the tablet? (4) What does the text on the reverse mean and
how does it relate to the map and text on the obverse? (5) What is the
significance of the map and accompanying texts as a whole? In the first
publication of the map, Peiser identified the large rectangle near the top of
the inside of the map as Babylon, and the parallel lines cutting through it
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from top to bottom as the Euphrates. In contrast to many later interpreters,
however, Peiser also argued that the placement of the inscription
identifying the rectangle as Babylon in the left corner of the rectangle
instead of in the center, where it might be expected, was not accidental,
and was intended, in his view, to indicate to the viewer of the map more
clearly that the left bank of the Euphrates is located in the East. Although
Peiser was not able to decipher all of the labels on the inside of the map,
he correctly identified Bīt–Yakin, Habban, and the canal (bitqu) and
swamp (apparu) at the bottom of the circle. Outside the ring of water,
which he interpreted as an ‘Ocean’, he noted the presence of five
preserved nagû, a word which he translated as ‘Gebiete regions’, and
hypothesized, on the basis of the number of nagû described on the reverse
of the tablet, that there were originally eight of these regions. Peiser
interpreted the text on the obverse as a mythological composition about
Babylon and animals that once lived there, but cast doubt on the text
having any relation to the map beneath it. He had equally little to say
about the text on the reverse, except that the eight nagû described in it
probably correspond to the four–world quarters, which he argued are
represented in Babylonian and Assyrian cities with eight gates positioned
in alignment with the four cardinal compass points. Peiser’s conclusions
about the significance of the map were also modest: he interpreted it as a
‘crude, but not incorrect’ depiction of Babylonia sometime around the 9th
century, calling the map simply a ‘babylonische Landkarte’, without
identifying it as a ‘map of the world’, or making any claims about the
regions outside the ring of water. Almost 25 years later, Ernst Weidner in
1922 put forward a radically new interpretation of the map, which was
much less modest in scope. In contrast to Peiser, who focused most of his
attention on the inside of the map, Weidner argued that the text on the
obverse was from the previously unknown 2nd tablet of the literary legend
‘Sargon, King of Battle’, and that the entire map is a visual and textual
depiction of Sargon’s entire kingdom. In support of this interpretation,
Weidner claimed that the eight nagû on the map are the eight regions of
the Caucuses that Sargon had to travel through to reach Anatolia, and that
the ‘destroyed gods’ mentioned in the text on the obverse refer to the cities
Sargon conquered along the way. To address the problem of the placement
of the nagû on the other side of a body of water instead of as contiguous
with Babylonia, as the mountains crossed by Sargon would have been, he
attributed the incorrect location of the nagû to the geographic ignorance
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of the scribes who produced the map. And to answer the difficult question however, was that the islands formed a bridge to the ‘heavenly ocean,’
of why Utanapishtim is mentioned in a text about Sargon conquering which he argued was described in the composition on the obverse of the
Purushhanda, he simply removed this figure from the text altogether and tablet, interpreting the animals mentioned in this text as Zodiacal animal
read the signs in his name as two separate words (Šamaš and napištim) constellations, identified as ‘vanished gods’ near the beginning of the text.
connecting Sargon to the Sun God and life. While Weidner’s reading of the
map was called into question almost as soon as it was published and has
since been dismissed, it stands out as one of the only interpretations that
does not assume a conceptual distinction between the nagû and the center
of the map. To my knowledge, the first scholar to propose that the map had
a cosmological and mythological dimension was Bruno Meissner only
three years after Weidner’s article. Situating the map in the context of
other visual depictions of geographic space in Mesopotamia, like the
Kassite map of Nippur, Meissner argued that the map was intended as a
real map of the world (‘Weltkarte’) that was more or less accurate in the
center, but much less so in the mythological regions outside it, as a result
of the strong influence of theology on the Babylonian conceptions of
geography. Meissner may also have been the first to connect the map with
Herodotus’ description of maps with a similar appearance: ‘I am amused
when I see that not one of all the people who have drawn maps of the
world has set it out sensibly. They show Ocean as a river flowing around
the outside of the earth, which is as circular as if it had been drawn with a
pair of compasses, and they make Asia and Europe the same size’
(Herodotus 4.36.2). At no point in his description of the map, however,
does Meissner claim that the city of Babylon is depicted in the center of it,
or make a sharp distinction between the real and mythological regions of
the map, seeing the map instead as a typical product of a scientific
practice that could not free itself from the mythological conceptions
pervading it. The cosmological dimension of the map began to receive
more serious attention a few years later in a series of studies by Eckhard
Unger in 1929, 1931, and 1937. Most notably, Unger claimed that
Babylon was depicted in the center of the map as ‘the hub of the universe,’
and correctly identified most of the cities and regions around it. Unger
also interpreted the ring of water as an ‘Earthly Ocean’ and the nagû as
islands at the end of the ocean, seeing in them the possible origin of the Having connected the earthly areas of the map with the heavens, he
tradition about the lost island of Atlantis: ‘It is just possible that the concluded that the map was not just a map of the world, but a map of the
legend of Atlantis might be explained as a fantastically exaggerated entire cosmos. While this interpretation of the map has not withstood the
reminiscence of the Babylonian cosmos with its seven islands, especially test of time, Unger’s claim that Babylon is shown in the center, as well as
as this legend has a long tradition behind it.’ Unger’s most radical claim, his separation of the map into real and mythological components, have

since become commonplace. Turning to more recent treatments of the
map, Wayne Horowitz in 1988, and again in 2011, taking into account a
critical new piece that had been joined to the map by Irving Finkel, offered
a new reading of the map that also emphasizes the centrality of Babylon.
Horowitz argued that the center of the map must have been drawn from a
Babylonian (as opposed to an Assyrian) perspective, because: ‘Babylon is
represented by a large rectangle encompassing almost half the width of
the central continent, while Assyria is represented as a small oval.’ In
contrast to the inside of the map, which, in Horowitz’s view, follows
Mesopotamian cartographic conventions, with cities represented as
circles, the Euphrates indicated by two parallel lines, and most of the
cities and regions in their correct relative locations, he interprets the nagû
outside the ring of water as remote islands. The northernmost of these
islands, identified in the inscriptions associated with it as a ‘Great Wall’
(BAD3 GU.LA) and a place a–šar dšamaš la innammaru (‘where the Sun
is not seen’; NU.IGI. LA2), may be connected to literary traditions about
Sargon and Gilgamesh visiting similar regions. Assuming that the text on
the obverse contains allusions to Marduk’s conquest of Tiamat and her
monsters in the Babylonian Creation Epic (Enuma Elish), and to Marduk’s
creation of the animals on top of the sea in ‘The Bilingual Account of the
Creation of the World by Marduk,’ and that the text on the reverse
describes the nagû, Horowitz concludes that the purpose of the map ‘was
to locate and describe distant regions,’ all of which are more
‘mythological’ than the real cities and areas in the map’s center. Lastly,
Irving Finkel, even more recently, has proposed a similar interpretation of
the map that places even greater emphasis on the centrality of Babylon
and the significance of the nagû as remote, semi–mythological regions
beyond it. After identifying the join of the critical new piece with the
upper–most nagû (1995), and producing a brief, descriptive interpretation
of the map for the catalogue to the Babylon exhibition at the British
Museum (2008), Finkel re–examined the map in more depth in 2014. He
connects the map with a newly discovered source for the Akkadian epic
(Atramhasis), which contains an extended description of the boat
Atramhasis built to survive the flood. Finkel describes the map as ‘the
earliest known map of the world’ and notes that Babylon is depicted as
‘awesomely vast in comparison with the other cities on the map,’ claiming
that ‘the map’s content undoubtedly reflects Babylon as the center of the
world.’ Characterizing the location of the cities and ‘tribal conglomerates’
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on the inside of the map as ‘partly accurate, but by no means always so,’
Finkel goes on to argue that these features are ‘far less important than the
great ring of water that surrounds everything.’ Finkel interprets the nagû
beyond the ring as ‘giant mountains beyond the rim of the world which are
unimaginably remote,’ likening the triangles on the map representing the
eight nagû to ‘an eight–pointed crown’ pointing upward toward the sky.
His understanding of the nagû as mountains is in sharp contrast to
previous interpretations of the nagû as islands or regions, but is essential
to his argument that the 4th nagû described on the reverse of the tablet
refers to the place where Atramhasis’ boat landed after the waters of the
destructive flood had receded. In emphasizing the importance of the nagû
on the outside of the map and their ‘unimaginably remote’ distance from
the well–known cities and territories in the middle, Finkel’s reading of the
map is the most recent in a long line of interpretations that dichotomize
the outside and inside of the map into real and mythological places, with a
liminal body of water in–between. Although many scholars who have
interpreted the map have come to strikingly different conclusions about its
meaning and significance, previous interpretations of the map have a
number of essential points in common. One is to assume a sharp
conceptual distinction between what is depicted on the inside and the
outside of the map. With the exception of Weidner, who claims that both
parts of the map were visited by Sargon, all other interpretations
distinguish the interior of the map from the exterior, differing only in
which of the two regions they interpret as being more important to the
meaning of the map. Peisser is non–committal on this point, but Unger
strongly supports a cosmological interpretation of the map, and Meissner
sees the mythological regions of the map as evidence that Mesopotamian
sciences like geography were inseparable from theology. In addition to
Horowitz and Finkel, other recent scholars who see a strong core–
periphery, real–mythological dichotomy in the interior and exterior
regions of the map include Jean–Jacques Glassner (1984), Frans
Wiggermann (1996), Beate Pongratz–Leisten (2001), and Piotr
Michalowski (2010), who have all made similar observations in their
discussions of the map. In addition to assuming a sharp conceptual
distinction between what is depicted on the inside and the outside of the
map, one of the most pervasive assumptions that all of the previous
interpretations of the map share is that the map is static and meant to be
seen from a single, bird’s–eye perspective. Horowitz lends support to this
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view by comparing what is depicted on the map with the description of bank of the Euphrates was
what the mythological ruler Etana sees from the back of an eagle as it flies located in the East. Even if the
him farther and farther away from the surface of the earth. And Finkel exact significance of the
takes this argument a step further in observing that Ea–bēl–ilī, the scribe placement of the inscription
credited with copying the tablet, is identified in the colophon as being the remains uncertain, however, it
son of a man whose name translates as ‘Bird’, stating: ‘After all, the does seem to provide a
whole map is a bird’s–eye view, and the original compiler of this account, frequently overlooked indication
whoever he was, did have a dad called Bird, as we can see from the last that Babylon is not as central on
line of the tablet.’ When looking more closely at the map, however, it the map as is typically assumed.
possesses at least three features that complicate reading it as a static Further evidence against the
depiction of the world, in which Babylon is in the center and the regions centrality of Babylon can be
outside the ring of water are ‘unimaginably remote’ from it: (1) Babylon found in the cities and regions
is not drawn in the center in the map, and there is very little evidence from that are included in the center of
the way the city is represented and labelled that it was intended to be the the map. With the possible
visual and conceptual focal point of the map. (2) The inclusion of cities, exception of Assur, Urartu, Bīt–
regions, and topographic features in the center section of the map whose Yakin, Susa, and less probably
presence is very difficult to explain in an ideological narrative about the Der, the presence of the areas
centrality of Babylon. (3) The occurrence of visual and textual signposting labelled ‘canal’ (bitqu) and
that appears to firmly connect the outer regions of the map with the ‘swamp’ (apparu), which occupy
inhabited center, instead of depicting them as unfathomably remote from more space near the bottom of the map than the rectangle with Babylon
it. With respect to the first point: as others have noted, Babylon is not near the top, are much harder to explain. Furthermore, the presence of
drawn in the center of the map, but instead almost equidistant from the top four circles positioned along the perimeter of the inside edge of the inner
of the inner ring and the round impression in the actual center of the map, ring, two of which are unlabeled and two of which are identified simply as
which may or may not have been created by the compass–like device that ‘city’ (with the cuneiform logogram URU), is also difficult to account for
was used to draw the circular ring of water, as some have claimed. For the in a narrative intended to emphasize the centrality of Babylon in relation
observation that the rings on the map may have been produced with a to other cities. The most conspicuous inclusion in the central section of the
compass, Finkel says: ‘Two concentric circles were drawn in with some map, though, is certainly the region to the immediate west of Babylon
cuneiform precursor of a pair of compasses whose point was actually labelled as ‘Habban’. Label 1 is this proposed starting point of the map,
inserted south of Babylon, perhaps at the city of Nippur, the Bond of with accompanying arrow indicating the direction of the 1st stage of the
Heaven and Earth.’ While the lack of visual centrality may have been proposed itinerary, which, as indicated by the arrows, proceeds counter–
counterbalanced by the relatively large size of the rectangle used to clockwise along the perimeter of the inner circle of the map. Note, in
represent Babylon, the inscription identifying the city is relegated to the particular, how nearly all of the labelled regions and labelled and
far right corner of the rectangle, where the label does not stand out, but unlabeled cities are also located along the same trajectory around the
instead seems to blend in with the cluster of inscriptions identifying perimeter of the inner circle of the map. Label 2 is the term ‘marratu’ with
other places in its immediate vicinity. As noted earlier, the placement of a box indicating the presence of the determinative for river names (‘i7’),
the label identifying Babylon had already struck Peiser, the first editor of which does not occur with any of the other preserved writings of the word
the map, who, in contrast to many later interpreters, argued that the ‘marratu’ inside the ring that separates the inner from the outer regions of
label’s placement was intended to provide a visual indication that the left the map. Note also how the direction of the script in the writing of this

word moves in the same direction as the proposed itinerary through the
inner circle of the map. Label 3 is the area labelled šadû (‘mountain’),
and the proposed crossing point from the inner circle of the map across
the marratu to the outer region of the map where the 2nd stage of the
proposed itinerary begins. Label 4 is the nagû or region with the label:
BAD3.GU.LA 6 bēru ina bi–rit a–šar dšamaš la innammaru (NU.IGI.LA2),
or ‘Great Wall, 6 double–miles between it and the place where the sun is
not seen.’ Note the inclusion of the phrase a–šar dšamaš la innammaru,
which is omitted in the labels for all of the other preserved nagûs. It is
being argued that since the presence of this phrase would have been
inferable in the labels for the remaining nagûs, it was only written with the
1st nagû, and that this nagû therefore marks the beginning of the 2nd stage
of the proposed itinerary. The arrows that follow illustrate the direction of
the proposed itinerary of the 2nd and final stage of the proposed itinerary,
which proceeds clockwise along the perimeter of the outer ring of the map,
coming to an end at the nagû directly above the area labelled ‘Habban’ in
the inner circle of the map. Most interpreters of the map identify this place
with ‘Bīt–Habban’, a tribal area mentioned in at least two late 2nd
millennium Kudurrus in association with a family or tribe that seems to
have possessed land in the region of Namar east of the Tigris near the
Zagros Mountains. Brinkman argues that Bīt–Hamban in the Kudurrus is
a designation for a Kassite tribal group, which he localizes to the east of
the Tigris. More recently, Paulus has disputed the identification of Bīt–
Hamban in the Kudurrus as a province, and like Brinkman, argues that it
is instead a designation for the descendants of the Hamban family,
localizing the land owned by this family in the region of Namar to the east
of the Tigris. So, since a city identified as Hamban and Bīt–Hamban that
can be localized to the same area also occurs in Neo–Assyrian royal
inscriptions, it is not improbable that the texts from both periods refer to
the same place. There are at least two difficulties with the occurrence of
‘Habban’ on the map, however. One is that if it is in fact the same
toponym as the place that occurs in the Kudurrus and Neo–Assyrian texts,
it should be in the east of the map, instead of in the west, at a great
distance from between Assur and Der, where it would be expected. The
other is that even if it is the same Habban, there is little indication in any
of the textual references to the place outside the map that it had any
notable significance to Babylon. In contrast to Bīt–Yakin, which was a
major tribal area within Babylonia, and Assur, which was one of
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Babylon’s main rivals until the collapse of Assyria, Habban seems to have
been a minor and insignificant place with no clear geographical or
political importance. Besides the likelihood that the Habban on the map
refers to a different place entirely, the question remains: what is it doing
on a map that is intended to communicate the centrality of Babylon? The
last, and perhaps the most decisive point against the conventional
interpretation of the map, however, is the way text and image work
together on the map to provide a clear visual guide to indicate to the
viewer how to read the map. There are three features of the map that seem
to serve as indications of how the map is supposed to be read: (1) The
exceptional inclusion of Habban. (2) The visual orientation of the textual
inscriptions in two critical areas of the map. (3) Aspects of the uppermost
nagû that set it apart from the other nagû on the map. The first point may
be the most difficult to prove conclusively, but it is probable that the
absence of any other apparent significance would have made Habban
stand out on the map. Looking at the visual conventions for depicting
different types of locations on the map, cities are drawn as circles, bodies
of water are indicated by two parallel lines, and regions like Urartu and
Bīt–Yakin are identified by unbounded inscriptions. The label ha–ab–ban
is unbounded like Urartu and Bīt–Yakin, suggesting that it was a region
and not a city. Since the region of Habban seems to have been
unimportant politically, it may have been included because it was
geographically significant for what is depicted on the map. More
specifically, it seems likely that Habban is at or near the point where the
map begins. Another key feature that suggests that the map is not drawn
from a bird’s eye perspective is the visual orientation of the inscribed
word mar–ra–tum, which is repeated four times within the ring separating
the inner and outer regions of the map. Instead of writing ‘marratu’ with
horizontal alignment from left to right, in the usual orientation of the
cuneiform script, in the way other places on the map like Babylon, Bīt–
Yakin and the words bitqu and apparu are written, the direction of the
script for the word marratu seems to move counter–clockwise around the
inside of the ring. Since there would have been enough space at the top
and bottom of the ring to write the word in the conventional orientation,
the writing of marratu four times in a continuous flowing sequence seems
to have been intentional. Moreover, only one of the four writings of the
term includes the determinative for bodies of water ‘i7’ (see Label 2),
suggesting that the scribe only wrote the determinative once because its

presence would have been easily inferable in all of the other instances. As
the form with ‘i7’ is likely to be the first that was put on the map, and is
also very near Habban, it is not improbable that the inside of the map was
intended to be read by starting at Habban and rotating the map counter–
clockwise in the direction of the script inside the ring of water, while
moving from one point in the inner circle to the next. If this is done, the
viewer’s eyes move from Habban along the perimeter of the ring through
Bīt–Yakin, the bitqu, Susa, upwards through the swamp, past the channel
branching off the Euphrates, and on through Der, Assur, Urartu, and an
unnamed city, before arriving at the uppermost region on the inside of the
map, which is labelled as a mountain (šadu). Continuing the visual
trajectory northward through the inner circle would bring the viewer past
the ring of water to the uppermost triangle in the outer region of the map.
The triangle above the mountain has at least two exceptional features that
suggest it was the next logical stop in the journey through the inside of the
map that began at or near Habban and ended at the foot of the šadû (see
Label 3). One of these features is that it is identified as a ‘great wall’
(BAD3 GU.LA), and is the only triangle not explicitly labelled as a nagû.
Since, as Horowitz has argued, the phrase ‘great wall’ may also occur in
the ‘Sargon Birth Legend’, where it is written BAD3 AN.KI GALi and is
used to describe a feature of mountains, it is likely that the phrase
connects this region more directly with the mountainous region on the
opposite side of the marratu from it. Another indication that this triangle
might be the beginning of the next stage of the itinerary depicted on the
map is that it is the only triangle that receives a full description. While the
other surviving nagû have only the inscription ‘X number of leagues
between’ (na–gu–u2 6/8 bēru DANNA ina bi–rit), in the uppermost nagû
the phrase ‘six leagues in between’ is followed by the statement ‘where the
sun is not seen’ (a–šar dšamaš la innammaru NU.IGI.LA2; see Label 4).
Since it is equally likely that the same phrase was omitted with all of the
other nagû, because like ‘i7’ with marratu, its presence was inferable (so
that the reader would have known to supply the phrase a–šar dšamaš la
innammaru after na–gu–u2 6/8 bēru DANNA ina bi–rit, to create the label
‘region with 6/8 double–miles between it and the place where the sun is
not seen’), this would suggest that the uppermost nagû was inscribed first
and marked the beginning of the journey through the outer regions of the
map. Rotating the map in the direction of the inscriptions accompanying
each nagû would then take the viewer clockwise around the outer ring
171
from one nagû to the next until one arrives at the last nagû just opposite
Habban on the other side of the ring of water. Further evidence that the
drawing on the map was meant to be read by rotating the map counter–
clockwise as one moved from one point to the next on the inside of the
map, and then clockwise through the outer regions of the nagû, is provided
in the description of the nagû on the reverse of the tablet, where the 2nd
person, durative form of the verb alāku ‘to go’ is used consistently in the
phrase ana šanû šalšu, rebi, etc., na–gu–u2 a–šar tal–la–ku 7 bēru
DANNA (‘to the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, etc., region, to which you go 7 double–miles’),
which occurs at the beginning of each of the descriptions of the eight
regions described on the reverse of the tablet, to instruct the viewer to
move from one nagû to the next. Moreover, since lists of towns, mountains,
and rivers dating to the Early Dynastic Period interpretable as itineraries
are one of the earliest forms of geographic representation in
Mesopotamia, a map which leads the viewer on a visual (and textual)
journey from the closer, more familiar regions of the heartland of
Mesopotamia to the more distant, and less familiar regions beyond it, is
consistent with this tradition. While many questions may still remain
unanswered, moving away from the conception of the map as a static
representation of a real core surrounded by a distant, mythological
periphery, allows for a more dynamic, continuous reading of the map.
When the map is interpreted (solely) as an ideologically motivated visual
representation of Babylon at the center of an ordered cosmos that becomes
increasingly more chaotic the further one moves away from it, the
significance of the other locations on the map becomes unnecessarily
limited to their respective distances from Babylon. Although there is little
doubt that Babylon occupies a place of importance on the map, reducing
the significance of the map to the centrality of Babylon makes it difficult to
read or interpret the map in any other way. But, once the static, core–
periphery interpretation of the map is abandoned, or the possibility of
other interpretations is considered, it becomes easier to recognize that the
locations on the map are interconnected points that take the viewer on a
visual journey from one end of the map to the other, revealing a critical
aspect of the map that had previously been overlooked. The view
proposed here nonetheless leaves many essential questions about the map
unanswered. Most significantly, if the map does in fact depict the proposed
itinerary, what is the significance of this itinerary, and how, if at all does it
relate to any known historical, cultural, or mythological events or

conceptions in, or before the period or periods in which the map and its
accompanying inscriptions were compiled? One of the strengths of the
previous, more static reading of the map, is that it allows for the map’s
textual and iconographic content to be compared to the Babylonian
Creation Story (Enuma Elish) with its cosmogony that situates Babylon
at the center of a new world and cosmological order, complete with
descriptions of vanquished sea monsters that may, or may not, be
parallel to the mythological creatures described on the obverse of the
map. As argued here, however, there are many features of the map that
this interpretation leaves unexplained, including, but not limited to, the
presence of Habban, which play no known role in Enuma Elish or any
other mythological account. Furthermore, core–periphery dichotomies are
not completely absent (and are indeed often prominent) in Mesopotamian
inscriptions and mythological accounts from different periods and places,
and it is not necessary to look any further than the Epic of Gilgamesh with
its accounts of Gilgamesh encountering, in the course of his wanderings
after the death of his companion Enkidu, increasingly more mythological
entities and figures the further he ventures outward from his home, the city
of Uruk, for one of many examples of this conception. But, as paradoxical
as it might seem, it is precisely the familiarity of the core–periphery
dichotomy in ancient Mesopotamia (and cross–culturally) that renders its
appearance in an object as unique as the Map of the World suspect, and
invites a reanalysis of the conventional interpretation of the map. One of
the great difficulties in arriving at a definitive interpretation of the map,
and why such an interpretation has eluded scholars for over a century is
precisely because there are not close textual or iconographic parallels to
this, in nearly all respects, exceptional artefact. All of the known maps
from ancient Mesopotamia depict real places, such as specific fields and
the city of Nippur, and not a single one contains a visual representation
of a mythological scene. Furthermore, the relationship between the
textual labels and the drawings on the other known maps is immediate and
apparent, with the textual labels providing additional and more precise
information that cannot be inferred from the drawing on the map alone.
One of the many examples of how textual labels are used in this way is the
identification of Enlil’s temple, the Ekur, on the map of Nippur, and all of
the other labels which give the names of the gates, canals, temples, and
other places depicted on the map. While textual labels are also used in this
way on the drawing on the Map of the World, the accompanying texts on
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the obverse and reverse go well beyond identifying the names of the
concrete places and features represented on the map, expanding and
enhancing the meaning of the map in ways that have not yet been fully
explained, and are otherwise completely unparalleled in all of the other
known instances of text–image relationships from ancient Mesopotamia.
All of the substantial differences between the Map of the World and other
Mesopotamian maps underscore the uniqueness and exceptionality of this
artefact, raising the question: why would such an original, innovative,
and unparalleled representation be created to communicate a message
about core–periphery relations, which was already completely familiar,
and presumably in little need of further elaboration? The view proposed
here does not answer the question of the significance of the itinerary
proposed, or fully explain how the content of the accompanying
inscriptions relate to the map itself, but the previous interpretations of the
map, which assume a core–periphery dichotomy, do not fully succeed in
answering these questions either. The purpose of the reading of the map
proposed here is therefore not to provide a definitive interpretation that
answers all of the questions about the map that have proven to be
unanswerable, but instead to raise questions that are overlooked in the
more static, and conventional interpretation of the map. It is hoped that
by calling attention to questions that deserve more attention, addressing
these questions in future studies might ultimately lead to an improved and
richer understanding of this extraordinary artefact.”
Paul Ferguson [21st century biblical scholar] concludes: “The belief that
Babylon was the center of the world represented a long tradition. A
quarter of a millennium before Nebuchadnezzar an ancient treatise on the
topography of Babylon identified the city as the ‘link of heaven and the
underworld.’ A. R. George sees this as attributing to the city a position at
the middle point of the cosmos. The only known Mesopotamian map of
the world probably dates from just a few generations before
Nebuchadnezzar. It depicts Babylon as a large rectangle located near the
center of the earth. All the other kingdoms are small circles that revolve
around it. The entire earth is drawn as a large circle with four to eight
triangles radiating around it. These points (nagû) represented distant,
remote regions of the earth. The nagû may be equated with the ‘ends of
the earth’ (or simply very remote regions). In Nebuchadnezzar’s dream
the tree was seen from the end of the earth (v. 11). In v. 22, Daniel

compares this to the fact that the king’s dominion reached to the end of the
earth. In his building inscriptions, Nebuchadnezzar describes his
kingdom as encompassing ‘all the lands, the entire inhabited world,
kings of far–off mountains and remote nagû.’ The dream goes on to state
that in this tree was food for all living creatures and that the beasts of the
field found shade under it. In his Inscription Number 9 the king sees his
vast empire as a tree that shades and nourishes all peoples. He says, ‘The
produce of the lands, the product of mountains, the wealth of the sea I
received in her. Under her everlasting shadow I gathered all men in peace.
Vast heaps of grain beyond measure I stored up within her.’ Interestingly
the ancient geographical treatise on the topography of Babylon calls it the
city that ‘ensures the life of the land.’ The tree’s height reached to the
heavens (v. 11). The king’s father Nabopolassar leaves an inscription
about the restoration of Etemenanki (‘The House of the Foundation of the
Heavens and the Earth’). He claims that he and his sons made its summit
in Babylon ‘rival or equal to the heavens’ (Nebuchadnezzar also made
the same claim). He continually makes the claim that he built the palace
and city from the abyss to the mountaintops. In the ancient world the king
and his kingdom were inseparable. An impressive array of data from the
Mesopotamian world identifies the king as a tree. For example, a
Sumerian royal hymn addressing the king says, ‘O chosen cedar, for thy
shadow the country may feel awe.’ Coxon suggests that the metal bands
around the trunk in v. 15 are a parallel to Mesopotamian cultic trees.”
Furthermore, this cosmic tree “could be seen to the ends of the earth.”
However, there is controversy among lexicographers concerning the
meaning of the Aramaic ḥăzôṯ [for “seen”], since the word only occurs
here. There are two primary views:
1. It is derived from ḥzh [or “visibility, appearance”], since the LXXΟ
translated it as kai hē hopasis autou [or “and his appearance”].
2. It relates to the branches [or the crown of the tree], since the LXXθ
translated it as kai to kutos autou [or “and its span/extent”].
Thus, the 2nd option is preferable, that it means the “span” or “canopy”
that reached “to the ends of the earth” based on the LXXθ rendering of the
Aramaic ḥăzôṯ with the Greek kutos, and this fits the context better.
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So, this description is meant to echo Babel [Genesis 11:4]. Likewise, this
kingdom was a blessing for many, because the “shade” it provided looks at
the protection and security it gave to those who submitted to its authority,
and in light of Jeremiah 27:6–8, the reference to “animals” refers to the
lesser countries/territories that were brought under Babylon’s dominion.
Theodoret [5th century Bishop of Cyr] says: “By ‘foliage’ he refers to the
visible splendour in apparel, throne, palace, warriors bearing shields and
javelins, and foot soldiers, and by ‘fruit’ to the tribute offered from all
quarters. Barbarians lived a wild life, whereas more reasonable and
civilized people, rapid and uplifted in their thinking, continued to pass
their life under his authority.”
Michael Heiser [21st century biblical scholar] concludes: “Scholars note
that the passage obviously draws on this concept of the ‘world tree’ or the
‘cosmic tree.’ You have to think of a giant tree whose boughs reach to the
heavens—the very heights of the heavens, even beyond the sky. It’s
planted on earth, though, so the tree is as tall as the sky is, and then its
roots descend into Sheol to draw up this water. It’s watered by the
abyss—by the deep. So, this tree is like a pole or a column that runs right
through the earth. Again, if you’re thinking about Israelite cosmology; to
the Israelite and other ancient people, it’s a very typical worldview that
the earth was a round, flat disc. It’s set on top of pillars. It’s surrounded
by water. Underneath it is water in the underworld. It’s covered by the
dome that meets the edges of the horizon where light and dark are
separated. There are lots of references to this. But, running right through
the center of this is this gigantic, enormous tree whose branches go to the
heavens and whose roots go down to Sheol. That’s something that the
flat–earthers won’t tell you about, will they? They make a big deal about
Israelite cosmology: ‘Well, we have to believe that the earth is flat because
that’s what the bible says.’ Well, the bible talks about the world tree too,
and I don’t know about you, but we are not running into a giant tree
whose branches extend to the heavens and whose roots go down to
Sheol. So, the flat–earthers conveniently forget that part of ancient
Israelite cosmology. Believing this in the modern world is as dumb as it
sounds, but none of them touch this. They just don’t. They’re either
ignorant of it, or they just conveniently forget it. But, it’s part of biblical
cosmology. This is well–known in ancient Near Eastern scholarship.”

Next in vv. 13–17, we read: “Then I saw in the visions of my head while I
was in bed—and take careful notice!—I saw a holy observer descend from
heaven. He called out aloud: ‘Cut down the tree and cut off its branches.
Strip off its foliage and scatter its fruit. Let the animals get out from under
it, and let the birds leave its branches. Nevertheless, leave the stump and
its roots in the ground, but bind it with iron and bronze in the field grass.
Let him be drenched with dew from the sky, and let him graze with the
animals in the grass of the earth. Let his mind be changed from that of a
man, and let him be given the mind of an animal until seven seasons of
time pass by for him. This order is announced by the observers, and the
holy ones declare the verdict, so that the living may know that the Most
High is sovereign over human kingdoms and grants them to whomever he
desires, and he places the least important of men over them.’”
Then the mood of the revelation changes from v. 13 onwards. There is a
shift from blessing to judgment. Inaugurating the revelation of this
judgment, Nebuchadnezzar “saw a holy observer descend from heaven,” in
order to make an announcement. The Aramaic îr [for “observer”] is
obscure, since it only occurs here in the Old Testament. Furthermore, the
LXXθ transliterated this as ir, whereas the LXXΟ translated this as angelos
[or “angel”]. Nevertheless, it is related to the Hebrew verb ûr [or “to
awake; to arouse oneself”]. In other words, to be awake meant that one
was suitable to serve as a “watcher” [specifically in God’s divine council].
Michael Heiser [21st century biblical scholar] summarizes and explains:
“The Aramaic term r occurs three times in the Old Testament (Daniel
4:13, 17, 23). This Aramaic term is found much more frequently in 2nd
Temple Jewish literature. Scholarly understanding of the meaning of r
depends on the presumed Semitic root from which one presumes it derived.
Dahood proposed that the term came from Ugaritic ǵyr (‘to protect’).
Murray initially believed that a better option was Akkadian ru (‘be
wakeful’), but changed his mind after Kaufman’s important work on
Akkadian influences in Aramaic couldn’t find primary source data for
the connection. As Collins notes, however: ‘Some biblical precedents for
the notion of angelic beings as ‘watchful ones,’ but with different
terminology, have been proposed. The most noteworthy is Zechariah 4:10
which refers to seven ‘eyes of the Lord which range through the whole
earth.’ The Watchers, however, never have this function in Daniel or the
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non–canonical literature. More recent research by Amar Annus leads to
the conclusion that the term does indeed have a connection to Akkadian
material—specifically, the supernatural apkallu, the central figures in
the Babylonian story that is the specific backdrop to the infamous
episode in Genesis 6:1–4. Annus writes: ‘Figurines of apkallus were
buried in boxes as foundation deposits in Mesopotamian buildings in order
to avert evil from the house. The term maṣṣarē (‘watchers’) is used of
these sets of figurines in Akkadian incantations according to ritual texts.
This appellation matches the Aramaic term ʿyryn (‘the wakeful ones’),
for both good angels and the Watchers.’ As the work of Annus and other
scholars demonstrates, 2nd Temple Jewish literature, particularly 1 Enoch
and the Book of Giants, draws on Mesopotamian material for its retelling
of events associated with the flood. ‘Watchers’ is the overwhelming
choice of term for the fallen sons of God in Genesis 6:1–4 in this later
literature; the connection to the Akkadian maṣṣarē provides a secure
basis for understanding the meaning of ʿ r to be ‘vigilant watchfulness.’
This, of course, is consistent with being wakeful and a guardian role.”
Thus, since figurines of the apkallu were called in Akkadian maṣṣarē [or
“watchers”], it is not surprising that Daniel [who was set in Babylon]
writes an equivalent of the Akkadian term [using the Aramaic r].
Furthermore, notice that the Aramaic adjective qaddîš [for “holy”] clarifies
that this “watcher” is indeed a member of God’s divine council. In other
words, since the Aramaic qaddîš was used for God’s people [later in
Daniel 7:18, 21], to “descend from heaven” meant that this was no mere
human, but specifically a “watcher” from God’s divine council.
Michael Heiser [21st century biblical scholar] continues: “The Aramaic
phrase îr wĕqaddîš is translated to mean ‘a watcher, a holy one’ because
the waw conjunction creates an appositional relationship. In other words,
only one heavenly being converses with Daniel in the passage, and when
the heavenly figure speaks, singular participles are used by the writer.
The members of God’s heavenly host as the ‘heavenly ones’ are also
described as ‘holy ones’ (Psalm 89:5–7; Job 15:15). The term qedōš m
may be used to describe people (Psalm 16:3; Daniel 8:24), but it is more
often used of spirit beings in God’s service (Deuteronomy 33:2–3; Job
5:1; Zechariah 14:5; Daniel 4:17). The instance in Deuteronomy 33:2 is
actually a singular form (qōdeš) that modifies the plural ‘myriads,’ a

different Hebrew lemma. The word in Daniel 4:17 is qadd š n, the
Aramaic cognate of qedōš m. The designation ‘holy ones’ does not denote
some quality of perfection. God does indeed charge his heavenly host with
‘error’ (Job 4:17–18). They are not infallible. So, ‘holy ones’ should
therefore be understood in much the same way as earthly ‘holiness’ of
people, places, and objects. The nature of holiness has to do with
proximity and association with the presence of God.”
So, this “watcher” makes a loud proclamation, underscoring the divine
authority with which he speaks. His announcement was that the tree was to
be cut down and its branches, leaves, and fruit removed. Also, the animals
and birds were to flee. This action is would have frightened the king, and
he would have perceived that evil was about to befall him.
Paul Ferguson [21st century biblical scholar] says: “The parallels between
Daniel 4 and the Gilgamesh epic do not end here. Both these works have
statements of the glorification of a king’s building accomplishments. Both
are concerned about the mortality of a human king and the consequences
of arrogance toward deity. The epic contains unprecedented arrogance
toward the gods. Each narrative tells of the chopping down of a very
extraordinary tree. In Gilgamesh and Daniel 4 ‘watchers’ have a
prominent part in the plot. Each piece has a troubling dream or dreams
that must be interpreted. Watchers (vv. 13, 17, 23) are important figures in
the Gilgamesh epic. Besides the guardian of the cedar there are watchers
of the night. There are scorpion people who are stationed at the gate
through which Gilgamesh must pass to find out about eternal life. The
Babylonians knew of personified night watchers who, alert and never
sleeping, control destinies on the earth. Deities were in charge of
watching the night while the great gods slept. Gilgamesh is especially
proud of his expedition with Enkidu to the cedar mountain in which he
killed the guardian and chopped down the sacred cedar. The cedar
mountain is the dwelling place of the gods. It has a gate 72 cubits high.
The towering cedar ‘uplifted its fullness before the mountain; fair was its
shade and full of delight.’ The cedar on the mountain is in the singular
and the forest is a single world tree. The cedar is protected by a guardian
appointed by Enlil, the high god. The guardian Huwawa is a watcher who
never sleeps. Scholars have called attention to many examples of
Mesopotamian kings from Sargon I and onward who seemed to have been
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obsessed with the cedar mountain. A royal inscription of Naram–Sin,
Sargon’s grandson, extols his conquering the mountain and personally
felling cedars there. Nebuchadnezzar speaks of finding one of Naram–
Sin’s inscriptions and refers to him as an ancestor (abu). Apparently this
type of exploit was considered necessary before a ruler could be classified
as a great king. In reading the Wadi Brissa inscription, one is made to feel
that Nebuchadnezzar identified his Lebanon campaign with Gilgamesh’s
expedition to the cedar mountain. This is the longest of his engravings
(800 lines). He made the gigantic work in duplicate on each side of the
pass through which his troops would have marched in Lebanon on their
way to the west. A little farther away a partial triplicate is found. It is the
only monument of Nebuchadnezzar that commemorates a military
expedition. It is dated to the time of the final destruction of Jerusalem (586
BC). Part of it is written in ancient archaic script. There are many word–
for–word correspondences with the royal engravings of Hammurapi. The
mighty cedars are mentioned 20 times, and Nebuchadnezzar calls Lebanon
‘the lush, green mountain forest of Marduk.’ Twice in the inscription he
boasts that he felled the mighty cedars with his own clean hands. The
inscription depicts the king in a pointed, conical hat like the ones worn by
Merodach–Baladan and Nabonidus. He is standing before a tree with an
object in his hand. The deteriorated condition of the relief does not allow
us to make out any more details. In column 4, directly to the left of the
tree, the king states: ‘With my own clean hands I felled the mighty cedars.’
It seems reasonable, then, to assume that this engraving portrays the
king in the very act of chopping down a cedar. Column 5 is written above
and below the tree. Column 6 is in back of the king. Both columns describe
in detail Babylon’s elaborate defence system. The king boasts that he made
the city into a mountain–high fortress. He goes on to state that he gathered
all men to its shadow for their well–being, prosperity and blessing. His
kingdom reached the ends of the earth, and he raised the city of Babylon to
the summit. In column 9 he tells how he had chased away the enemy that
had scattered the people and plundered the mountain. He gathered the
people and made them lie down in security. He built a special road
through the mountains to transport the cedars back to Babylon. Among
other things he used the cedars to roof his palace built on the bosom (irtu)
of the wide world. This inscription clearly shows how totally obsessed
Nebuchadnezzar was with the mighty cedars of Lebanon. It is little
wonder that he dreamed about them. There would have been no more

vulnerable point for God to speak to Nebuchadnezzar about his pride than
through the metaphor of the great tree. He would have had little problem
in identifying the sheltering, nourishing tree with his own kingdom. As an
informed, educated pagan he would realize that this tree would have a
divinely–appointed watcher just as everything significant in his world
did. Imagine his horror and feeling of helplessness when the watcher
actually announces the decree that the tree is to be cut down (vv. 13–14)!
He would have definitely considered this as an unfavourable nightmare
needing the attention of dream professionals. The Babylonian concept of
interpretation would include not only explaining the meaning of the dream
but also removing its undesirable consequences. Only Daniel could do
this by telling the king, in effect, that he must become the kind of ruler
he had advertised himself to be in the Wadi Brissa inscription (v. 27). He
must be a true shepherd to the people entrusted to him by deity. Both
Lugalzaggesi and Hammurapi viewed themselves as making their subjects
lie down in green pastures. Nebuchadnezzar takes over this metaphor in
the Wadi Brissa inscription. The king receives this prescription in total
silence, even though it could have neutralized the foreboding evil. He is
speechless because he has been caught by his own words. Ironically when
the king makes his fateful boast a year later (vv. 29–30) he is probably
standing on the very cedars he bragged about hewing down in the Wadi
Brissa inscription. What is the source of all this extraordinary information
that so vividly displays the intents of the king’s heart? This did not come
from a 3rd century author living in Palestine who sought to revive
interest in Babylonian lore. It came from a God who searches hearts and
who knew the secret rooms in the king’s soul. He is the one who knows
best how to reach every one of us.”
So, since we have limited historical records from the latter part of
Nebuchadnezzar’s reign, we really do not know what kind of disruption
might have gone on within his kingdom. Was there a rebellion? Was there
a famine or other natural disasters? We simply do not know. The text
seems to suggest that the kingdom itself [not just Nebuchadnezzar as an
individual] was disrupted or negatively affected. However, v. 15 indicates
that the divine judgment would not be complete and irreversible. The
stump would be left in the ground. This is because the Aramaic iqqar
šoršôhî [for “the stump and its roots”] indicates that these two words can
be combined to have a singular meaning: “main root” or “taproot.”
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Thus, although the tree is chopped down, enough of it remains [the lower
stump and main root] that life is still left in it! In other words, the tree had
the potential to return to its flourishing state once again. As in the case of
the stump of Isaiah 6:13 and 11:1, a glimpse of hope remained for
Nebuchadnezzar and his kingdom. Also, the purpose of “bind it with iron
and bronze” is not clear, but most likely signified some sort of protection
put on the kingdom while the king himself was rendered unfit to rule.
Silviu Bunta [21st century 2nd Temple scholar] summarizes and explains:
“The scholarship of Daniel 4 has previously noted the connection of the
text to the generic religious symbol of the cosmic tree. However, the
symbol is an all–embracing umbrella term for concepts of enormous
diversity from different cultural and historical environments, concepts far
too complex and diverse to submit to such generalization without
inevitable dilution. The association of the tree of Daniel 4 with this
generic concept fails to contextualize the biblical narrative. The context
for the tree imagery of Daniel 4 might be sought in earlier biblical and
ancient Near Eastern sources. The most commonly evinced literary
parallel to Daniel 4 is Ezekiel 31, where vv. 2–14 contains a strikingly
similar depiction of a tree, which is associated to the Egyptian pharaoh.
Biblical scholarship has also previously noted the connection of Ezekiel to
the Mesopotamian Book of Erra, dated between the 11th and the 8th century
BCE, with a general preference in current scholarship for a later date
within this period. In tablet I of the poem, the god Erra sets out for
Babylon, one of the cities he wants to destroy, to enquire Marduk about
the tarnished state of the latter’s statue and to incite the god of Babylon to
either abandon his city or to join Erra in destroying it: ‘Erra entered
Esagila, palace of heaven and earth, and stood in front of Marduk. He
made his voice heard and spoke to the king of gods, ‘Why does the finery,
your lordship’s adornment which is full of splendour like the stars of
heaven, grow dirty? Your crown of your lordship which made E–halanki
shine like E–temenanki—its surface is tarnished!’’ (Erra I 125–128).
Marduk reminds Erra that his previous abandonment of his statue and of
the city caused a catastrophic flood. His statue suffered damage and he
had to summon the fire god, Gerra, to refurbish it, before he would resume
his residence in it: ‘As for the finery which had been pushed aside by the
Flood, its surface dulled: I directed Gerra to make my features radiant,
and to cleanse my robes. When he had made the finery bright, and finished

the work, I put on my crown of lordship and went back to my place. My
features were splendid, and my gaze was awesome! As for the people who
were left from the Flood and saw the result of my action, should I raise my
weapons and destroy the remnant? I made those original craftsmen go
down to the Apsu, and I said they were not to come back up. I changed the
location of the mēsu–tree and of the elmešu–stone, and did not reveal it to
anyone. Now, concerning that deed which you have said you will do,
Warrior Erra, where is the mēsu–wood, the flesh of the gods, the proper
insignia of the King of the World, the pure timber, tall youth, who is made
into a lord, whose roots reach down into the vast ocean through 100 miles
of water, to the base of Arallu, whose topknot above rests on the heaven of
Anu?’ (Erra I 140–153). Another similar depiction of the mēsu–tree is
extant in STT 199, a tablet dated to the 7th century BCE: ‘as you come out
in greatness from the forest; as you come out from the pure forest, wood of
the pure forest; as you come from the pure forest of mēsu–trees, wood of
the pure forest of mēsu–trees; bright wood, like the spring of a stream,
which is born in the pure heavens, spreads out on the clean earth; your
branches grow up to heaven, Enki makes your root drink up pure water
from the underworld.’ The ensuing text describes the process of the
making of the statue out of the enormous tree. One central feature in the
descriptions of the mēsu–tree is its enormity, which is meant to
accommodate the immense size of the god. Thus, the main common
features of the tree of Ezekiel 31 and of the Mesopotamian mēsu–tree
appear in the depiction of the tree in Daniel 4. It is enormous. Its top
reaches the clouds of heaven. It has the most conspicuous location in the
middle of the earth. Moreover, the sin of the tree of Daniel 4 is hubris, as
is the sin of the kings in Ezekiel 28 and 31. The probability that the tree of
Daniel 4 is a development of the ancient concept of the mēsu–tree is
further supported by the fact that its destruction reflects mutilations and
desecrations of cultic images. Throughout the ancient Near East,
including Canaan, statues of gods were built of wood, as the very concept
of the mēsu–tree suggests (Isaiah 37:19; 2 Kings 19:18). Destructions and
mutilations of divine statues are therefore commonly depicted in terms of
‘cutting down,’ ‘chopping off,’ ‘stripping off,’ ‘burning,’ and ‘scattering.’
Although extant accounts of destructions of captured divine images from
the ancient Near East are scarce, the process, more or less homogenous,
most often entailed casting the statue to the ground (1 Samuel 5:3), cutting
it off (Deuteronomy 7:5; 12:3; Isaiah 10:33; 1 Samuel 5:4; 1 Kings 15:13;
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Exodus 34:13; Micah 1:7), smashing it (Ezekiel 6:6; Isaiah 21:9), burning
it (1 Kings 15:13; 2 Kings 23:6; Deuteronomy 7:5, 25; 1 Chronicles
14:12; Micah 1:7; Isaiah 37:19; 2 Kings 19:18), and scattering its ashes
(2 Kings 23:6; Exodus 32:20; Deuteronomy 7:5; 12:3). The mutilation
and destruction of the resemblance and of the divine paraphernalia of
statues was perceived as the end of their numinous character, of the
presence of the gods within them. The tree of Daniel 4 is mutilated in
similar terms. The verb qeṣǎṣ (‘cut off’) is particularly significant. It does
not only refer to mutilations of human bodies (Judges 1:6; 2 Samuel 4:12;
2 Kings 18:16), but also to the mutilation of cultic objects, particularly to
the chopping off of their golden layers (2 Kings 16:17; 18:16). In 2 Kings
24:13 the term defines the destruction and desecration of the vessels of the
1st Temple in 597 BCE. The chopping of the cultic objects in the Temple
may reflect the destruction of the central cultic image of YHWH in the holy
of holies. The biblical account seems to suggest the throne was stripped of
its gold plate already in 597 BCE, and Psalm 74:6–7 mentions the
breaking of the ‘carved work’ and the burning of the sanctuary, which
might also allude to this disastrous event. In 2 Chronicles 28:24, which is
built on 2 Kings 24:14, the verb qeṣǎṣ (‘cut off’) refers to a similar
destructive act. That the tree imagery of Daniel 4 has theomorphic and
iconic connotations is also suggested in the opening of the story (v. 1),
which describes Nebuchadnezzar ‘flourishing in his palace’ or ‘on his
throne.’ The term ‘flourishing’ is purposefully deployed in the king’s
opening speech to signal a subtle connection with the subject of his dream
and that in the literary structure of the chapter it does achieve an effective
double–entendre. The word commonly refers to the freshness and
luxuriousness of trees (Hosea 14:9; Psalm 52:10) and seems to allude in
the context of Daniel 4 to the deuteronomistic reference to idolatry as
worship ‘under any green/luxurious tree’ (Deuteronomy 12:2; 1 Kings
14:23; 2 Kings 17:10). The term also recalls another main feature of the
mēsu–tree, the wood meant to supply the statuary flesh of the gods,
namely luxuriousness. The mēsu–tree is commonly portrayed as the most
luxurious of all trees. Several conclusions can be safely drawn at the
present stage of my research. First, Daniel 4 shares with Ezekiel 31 the
imagery of an enormous tree. Several common features of the trees
emerge: they are both enormous, both reach the heavens with their tops,
and both have conspicuous and prominent locations. The imagery is most
probably an appropriation of the Mesopotamian concept of the mēsu–tree,

a tree that exhibits the same characteristics: it is enormous, it feeds on
abundant underground waters, its top reaches the clouds of heaven, and it
has a conspicuous and prominent location among the other trees. Second,
the mēsu–tree is the iconic tree par excellence; it provides the flesh of the
gods, the material of their statues. The contexts of both Daniel 4 and
Ezekiel 31 suggest that in both texts the enormous trees fulfil a similar
iconic function, namely constitute iconic presences of the divine. Third, the
image of the iconic tree occurs in both Daniel 4 and Ezekiel 31 in contexts
of concerns with legitimate channels of iconic worship. Like Ezekiel 28–
32, Daniel 2–5 constructs a complex anthropology that identifies
humanity as the only legitimate alternative to idols. Cumulative evidence
leads to the tentative conclusion that already in the exilic period (Ezekiel
28 and 31) an anthropology that defined primeval humanity as the cultic
statue of YHWH emerged in circles of the priestly class. The story of
Daniel 4 attests to the fact that the Persian period witnessed a
development of these speculations about the iconic value of humanity.”
So, since this imagery is about Nebuchadnezzar, his description as a
cosmic mēsu–tree now shifts to his description as an animal–like creature,
and even eating like an animal [vv. 15–16]. The Aramaic ăśaḇ [for
“grass”] is from the Akkadian verb ešēbu [or “to grow luxuriantly”] which
can also mean other forms of herbage [like “plants”] to indicate that the
diet was not necessarily limited to mere grass. Furthermore, his mind
would also be changed from that of a man to that of an animal.
Gleason Archer [20th century biblical scholar] says: “At this point the
symbolism emerges as the angelic watchman declared that the mind of the
stump was to be changed from that of a man to that of a brute beast. The
word for ‘mind’ is leḇaḇ (or ‘heart’), a term that in scripture refers to the
inner self as the seat of moral reflection, choice of the will, and pattern
of behaviour. It includes not only the mental processes, but also the
feelings, affections, and emotions, along with all the motivational factors
leading to decisions and responses to life situations. The person this tree
stump represented was to be transformed into an animal.”
Thus, since the king’s “mind” was the very source of his pride, it is
ironically there that God touched him, and the length of this divine
punishment is to last “until seven seasons of time pass by for him.”
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The Aramaic šiḇ â iddānîn [for “seven seasons of time”] is debated
among scholars. The Aramaic iddān [for “time”] can refer to time in
general or to a definite period of time [like a year]. In fact, Daniel will
utilize the Aramaic iddān to describe “a time, times, and half a time”
[later in Daniel 7:25], where in that context it is undoubtedly 3.5 years.
Furthermore, although the LXXθ translated it as hepta kairoi [or “seven
times”], the LXXΟ instead translated it as hepta etē [or “seven years”].
Josephus [1st century Jewish historian] says: “A little while later the king
saw in his sleep another vision, to the effect that after falling from power
he would make his life with wild beasts and, after surviving in the desert
for seven years he would take power back again. After gazing at this
dream he again summoned the magi and questioned them closely about it
and demanded that they say what it might signify. But, none of the others
was able to discover the import of the dream or to make it known to the
king except for Daniel alone. He interpreted the dream, and just as he
himself predicted to him so it happened. For having spent the
aforementioned period in the desert, when no one dared to take over the
government for the period of seven years, when he asked God permission
to take the kingdom again he was restored to it.”
So, a certain specified period for his punishment was intended, and this
would have been most likely measured in years. While acknowledging that
the Aramaic iddān is sometimes used in a general sense [for “time”], it
can be used of a definite period of time [such as a “year”], and this is the
most likely meaning, because of the dream’s context. Thus, in v. 17, this
announcement/decision is by the decree of the “observers” [or “watchers”]
and “holy ones”; the divine council that stands before God [Genesis 1:26;
Psalm 82:1; 1 Kings 22:18–23; Job 1:6–12; 2:1–6]. In other words, God’s
members in his divine council participated in the making of this decree!
Michael Heiser [21st century biblical scholar] says: “Members of the
heavenly host deliver information from and about God that derive from
council decisions or direct decrees from the Most High. The point is well
illustrated in Daniel 4. The chapter records the dream of Nebuchadnezzar
in which he saw a stupendously tall tree that reached into the heavens.
Part of the dream included a visitation from ‘a watcher, a holy one’ (vv.
13, 17, 23). The watcher informed the Babylonian despot that the tree of

his dream would be chopped down, leaving only its stump. The divine
messenger explained that the tree and its stump were symbolized
Nebuchadnezzar and his future fate. The tall tree was emblematic of the
king’s greatness, while the stump pictured his destiny. God was judging
Nebuchadnezzar for his arrogance; he would suffer temporary insanity
and become like an animal (vv. 13–16). The wordings of vv. 17, 24 in this
regard are of special interest. Not only does the watcher deliver the
decree of the Most High, but we learn that members of the heavenly host
(here called watchers) participated in issuing the sentence upon
Nebuchadnezzar. The passage is clear, however, that input from the
members of the heavenly host did not impinge on the sovereignty of God
(vv. 25–26). Despite the participation of the holy ones in v. 17, the text
affirms that the Most High is sovereign. The wording of v. 25 is clearly
singular. The phrase in v. 26 ‘heaven is sovereign’ is interesting because
the Aramaic word translated heaven (shemayin) is plural and is
accompanied by a plural verb. The plurality of shemayin can point to
either the members of the council or the council as a collective. In any
event, the wording is suggestive of the interchange between council and
Most High earlier in Daniel 4. The council does not act independently of
its Head. Decisions are made and delivered to those affected when that is
in concert with God’s will.”
So, not only was this heavenly decision merely to punish Nebuchadnezzar,
but both he and many other people might learn a valuable two–part lesson.
The reason it refers to more people than just Nebuchadnezzar is because
the Aramaic adjective ḥay is in the plural as ḥayyayyāʾ [or “the living”].
Thus, the 1st lesson is that “the Most High is sovereign over human
kingdoms and grants them to whomever he desires.” The point was clear to
Nebuchadnezzar: he needed to humble himself before the one who granted
him the authority to be king. The 2nd lesson is that “he places the least
important of men over them.” This is not about the most unworthy, but the
most humble! In other words, although the Aramaic šᵊpal ʾănāšîm [for “the
least important of men”] is literally “the basest, worst, and despised of
men,” the Aramaic words are superlative and instead it can be translated:
“the lowliest of men.” Thus, since God has a special regard for humility
[Psalm 138:6], and is never impressed by those who deceive themselves
into thinking they are something [Isaiah 57:15], the Aramaic verb yᵊqîm
[for “he places”] can be translated as a future tense: “he will place.”
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This affirms that God does not generally establish humble men as kings,
because history is full of kings who for the most part were self–centered
and prideful rulers. Instead, God’s future ruler will be the lowliest of men.
His name is Jesus [Zechariah 9:9–10; Matthew 11:29; Philippians 2:8].
Jerome [4th century] concludes: “It is not only of Nebuchadnezzar, king of
the Chaldeans, but also of all impious people that the prophet says, ‘I
beheld the impious man highly exalted and lifted up like the cedars of
Lebanon’ [Psalm 37:35]. Such people are lifted up not by the greatness of
their virtues, but by their own pride; and for that reason they are cut down
and fall into ruin. Therefore it is good to follow the teaching of our Lord:
‘Learn from me, for I am meek and lowly in heart’ [Matthew 11:29].”
Finally in v. 18, we read: “This is the dream that I, King Nebuchadnezzar,
saw. Belteshazzar, tell me its meaning, since none of the advisors in my
kingdom can tell me its interpretation. But you are able to do so because
the spirit of the holy gods is in you.”
Following his recounting of the dream, Nebuchadnezzar then turned to
Daniel and told him to tell the interpretation. The main lesson of the dream
in v. 17, which Nebuchadnezzar himself stated, was already apparent and
needed no interpretation. However, the symbolism of the tree and the
animal–like behaviour did need interpretation. The king admitted before
Daniel that the other wise men of the royal court were not able to declare
the interpretation, and then expressed his confidence that Daniel was able
to do so, because he had “the spirit of the holy gods” in him. The king’s
understanding of Daniel’s ability may have been faulty, but he at least
recognized that Daniel had a way of receiving divine help to interpret
dreams [recall Daniel 2:26]. He recognized that Daniel was different than
the other wise men, and he knew the reason was due to Daniel’s God.
6) What was Daniel’s interpretation of the dream? (4:19–27)
Starting with v. 19, we read: “Then Daniel (also known as Belteshazzar)
was greatly troubled for a while and was terrified by his thoughts. The
king said, ‘Belteshazzar, don’t let the dream or its meaning terrify you.’
Belteshazzar responded, ‘Your majesty, if only the dream were about your
enemies and its meaning about those who oppose you!’”

For a brief moment Daniel stood there, appalled at what he had heard. Was
he appalled because he did not understand the dream? To be “greatly
troubled” might infer that Daniel was confused, but this was not the case.
The reason for his reaction of shock is clarified by the following words:
“terrified by his thoughts.” The Aramaic bᵊhal [for “terrified”] means that
Daniel was frightened by what he had heard, and understood right away
what the dream signified [the interpretation terrified him]. Thus, this
indicates that Daniel personally cared about the king, and any misfortune
for the king was a real concern to Daniel. Furthermore, Daniel might be
greatly concerned about any political repercussions that might eventuate
from this and especially for his people who were living in exile in
Babylonia. So, Nebuchadnezzar could sense Daniel’s astonishment and
emotional reaction of fear and tried to calm Daniel [notice that the king is
still calling Daniel by his Babylonian name “Belteshazzar”]. We can sense
that the king appreciates Daniel as his faithful servant. Conversely,
Daniel’s respect for the king was shown in two ways:
1. Daniel called him by the Aramaic mārᵊʾî [or “your majesty”].
2. Daniel told the king that he wished the dream and its interpretation
were for the king’s enemies. In saying this, he was giving a word
of comfort in a critical moment. Even though the king faced a
difficult future, Daniel was indicating that he stood loyally by him.
So, Daniel’s reaction could have been to think that this pagan king was
merely getting what he deserved, and to be delighted in what was about to
happen. However, Daniel did not hastily take delight in God’s discipline
that befell the king and was able to see himself in a nobler role of being a
friend and spiritual witness to the king.
Jerome [4th century] says: “Daniel silently understood that the dream was
directed against the king, and he felt sorry for the man who had conferred
on him the greatest of honour. So, to avoid all appearance of taunting the
king or appearing as an enemy, Daniel only told him what he understood
of the matter after he had begged to be excused. He explained the truth
without insulting the king; so as to avoid appearing to charge the king
with sinful pride, he explains human power as in itself presumptuous.”
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Next in vv. 20–22, we read: “The tree that you saw, which grew large and
strong until its top reached the sky and became visible to the whole earth
with beautiful leaves and abundant fruit—enough food for everyone—and
under which wild animals of the field found shelter and the birds of the air
had nests in its branches—it’s you, your majesty! You’ve become great
and strong, your greatness has grown to the heavens, and your dominion
reaches to the distant parts of the earth.”
Now in his role as prophet rather than court adviser, Daniel identified
Nebuchadnezzar as the tree of the dream using Jeremiah’s similar imagery
[Jeremiah 27:5–7], because Daniel has read Jeremiah’s book [later in
Daniel 9:2]. Thus, although Daniel merely restated the main points of the
first part of the dream, beginning in v. 22, he gave the interpretation of
what the tree itself signified. He began by saying, “it’s you, your majesty.”
God had allowed Nebuchadnezzar’s kingdom to expand, so that
figuratively it “reached the sky.” This depicts Nebuchadnezzar at the peak
of his political power, dominating the world scene. His authority, his
dominion, the extent of his rule, reached to the ends of the earth [at least
over most of the civilized world]. At this particular time in history,
Nebuchadnezzar’s kingdom was the undisputed superpower of its day that
controlled Mesopotamia to Cilicia, Pirindu and Lydia to the northwest, and
the Levant including Palestine all the way to the border of Egypt to the
west. It was God’s sovereign permission that had allowed this kingdom to
come about and for Nebuchadnezzar to be the man to rule over it all.
Nevertheless, God reminded him of this so that he would realize what was
being taken away from him, and that God was the one who controlled
human kingdoms and those who ruled over them.
Theodoret [5th century Bishop of Cyr] says: “Daniel’s wisdom is worth
admiring: he did not say simply, the big tree, but grown to great size and
strength—in other words, instead of being great from the beginning, you
became great gradually, and instead of having strength from the outset,
you gradually acquired it. So, he goes further, ‘Because you have grown
great and strong, your greatness has increased, you reach to heaven and
your lordship to the ends of the earth.’ It was very fitting and appropriate
for him to relate these things to heaven and earth: he said his lordship had
reached the ends of the earth, that is, his authority, whereas it was not yet
his lordship that had reached to heaven, but his imaginings.”

Next in vv. 23–25, we read: “Your majesty saw a holy observer
descending from heaven and saying, ‘Cut down the tree and destroy it, but
leave the stump in the ground, along with its roots, bound with iron and
bronze in the field grass. Let him be soaked with the dew of the sky and
live with the wild animals of the field until seven seasons pass over him.’
This is the meaning, your majesty, and this is the decree that the Most
High has issued against his majesty, the king: ‘You’ll be driven from
people, and you’ll live among wild animals of the field. You’ll eat grass
like cattle and be soaked with the dew of the sky while seven years pass
you by—until you realize that the Most High is sovereign over human
kingdoms and grants them to whomever he desires.’”
In this second phase of the interpretation, the same pattern is followed:
Daniel restates a part of the dream [v. 23] by recalling vv. 13–14, and then
gives the interpretation [vv. 24–25]. But, notice that the Aramaic verb
wᵊḥabbᵊlûhî [for “destroy it”] was not used earlier when Nebuchadnezzar
recounted the dream. Instead, it was used in regards to God’s kingdom via
the Aramaic lāʾ ṯiṯḥabbal [or “never be destroyed”; recall Daniel 2:44].
Thus, by this verb in v. 23, Daniel draws a deliberate contrast between
God’s kingdom [which will not be destroyed] and Nebuchadnezzar’s
kingdom [which can be destroyed]. Then, in v. 24, Daniel relates the
interpretation of the cutting down of the tree, the metal band, the animal–
like behaviour, the seven periods of time, and clarifies that the decision to
carry all this out came from “the Most High.” However, earlier in v. 17, it
was said to be by decree/decision of the watchers/holy ones. Thus, God
issued the decree, and the divine council affirmed and announced it.
Michael Heiser [21st century biblical scholar] says: “There is no council
acting without God’s approval. This is God making a decision and the
council participates with him to carry out what God wants to happen. This
raises a key question: what does God need with a council? Frankly, God
doesn’t need a council. He doesn’t need anything, but this is what he does,
and this is what he wants. I think a good parallel would be to ask, ‘Why
does God need us? Why does God need the church? Why does God need
people for evangelism, the Great Commission?’ Well, the short answer is
he doesn’t. God could just sort of flip switches on and off about who is
going to believe and not and call it a day, but he doesn’t do that. He has
humans participate with him in something he wants to get done, and this
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takes our mind to the whole idea about a template. We are learning
something about how God operates in the supernatural world with his
divine family, his divine bureaucracy, his divine council, and that’s going
to help inform us about how God looks at our participation, the things he
has tasked us with. So, God doesn’t need a council; he doesn’t need us
either. This is just how he works. We’re not dealing with idols. They are
objects in which fallen, rebellious, hostile, divine beings were thought to
reside. God’s council is in the skies; it’s in the heavens. It’s not on earth
where idols are, and idols are hostile anyway. Thus, the implication here
is that we have a participatory relationship between God and the members
of his family. He allows genuine participation in carrying out his will. A
sub–thought of that is the question: if God is allowing genuine
participation, isn’t everything predestinated? No, that isn’t the case.”
So, this judgment would affect especially the king, for he was to be driven
out from human society and dwell among the wild animals [later in v. 33].
He would even behave like a wild animal, being fed grass, or perhaps
herbage/vegetation [recall v. 15]. Becoming “soaked with the dew of the
sky” probably indicates that he would spend his nights out in the fields and
be covered with dew by morning. He would carry on in this state for
“seven seasons” = 7 years [recall v. 16], until he recognized that God
exercised his authoritative rule over the human realm and had the right to
give it to whomever he wanted. Thus, this punishment was appropriate for
Nebuchadnezzar: he lost control of his kingdom because he lost control of
himself, and by acting like a beast, he was allowed to live with beasts!
Jason Garrison [21st century biblical scholar] extensively summarizes:
“Because of the biblical and extra–biblical records of his life,
Nebuchadnezzar II has influenced later cultures on several levels. For
example William Blake’s famous engraving ‘Nebuchadnezzar,’ created in
the seventeenth century, provided a haunting semblance of the Babylonian
king in his animal–like state. More recently the infamous Iraqi Prime
Minister Saddam Hussein idolized Nebuchadnezzar and attended a
cultural festival where he was celebrated as a new Nebuchadnezzar. The
name even appears in popular media. In the motion picture series The
Matrix, a kind of hovercraft called the Nebuchadnezzar provided transport
for the main characters. In this vehicle people would awake from their
dreams and return to reality. Larry Wachowski, one of the writers and

directors, revealed that the name Nebuchadnezzar related to the biblical
account in Daniel, where the king had dreams and searched for answers.
Interestingly each of these examples accentuates some form of tragedy.
Blake’s artwork memorialized the king’s bovine characteristics when he
was driven from society (Daniel 4). When Saddam Hussein fell from his
position of power during America’s war with Iraq and went into hiding,
soldiers found him in a rudimentary hole in the earth. In the 2nd film
enemies crippled and then destroyed the vehicle in The Matrix. As these
examples suggest, the name Nebuchadnezzar represents both power and
tragedy, even more than 2,000 years after his death. In the Neo–
Babylonian era the name Gilgamesh represented the power and tragedy of
another king who had reigned two millennia earlier. Though the dates of
his reign are unknown, the earliest written accounts of Gilgamesh are
probably no older than the late 3rd millennium BC. The Gilgamesh Epic
was one of the most popular cuneiform texts of the ancient Near East. The
standard version of the epic, which existed during the reign of
Nebuchadnezzar II, emphasized both the power and tragedy of Uruk’s
king. While the Old Babylonian version united the Sumerian texts, and the
Middle Babylonian version saw more variation and diffusion of the texts
among the ancient Near East, the standard version was the final revision
that ultimately unified the diverse Gilgamesh materials into one
instructive story of a man’s struggle for power, friendship, and eternal
life. A king of Uruk in the Sumerian region became the subject of
numerous literary compositions. John Gardner and John Maier attributed
the different spellings of this king’s name to an uncertain reading of the
cuneiform script in the 1800s. In the early phases of translation,
pronunciation of his name varied, but the general consensus of modern
readers is that it is pronounced ‘Gilgamesh.’ Pronunciations included
‘Bilgamesh’ and even ‘Izdubar’ and ‘Gishdubar.’ An early translation
called the work ‘Nimrodepos,’ believing the hero to be the Nimrod of the
Bible (1 Chronicles 1:10; Micah 5:6). Andrew George argued that the
phonetic distinction between Bilgamesh and Gilgamesh was legitimate—
the former was the Sumerian pronunciation, and the latter was the
Akkadian. After the fall of the Sumerian Empire the Assyrians translated
these Sumerian texts into the Akkadian language (still using cuneiform
characters) and eventually combined them into a single story. More legend
than history, the Gilgamesh Epic remained a popular composition for a
millennium and proved useful in several ways. Its popularity is apparent
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not only because of the numerous copies found in Mesopotamia, the
Levant, and Anatolia (Turkey), but also because other compositions in the
ancient world shared some of its literary features. Scribes regularly used it
to teach reading and writing on basic and advanced levels. The ancients
also used it for cultic and religious purposes. Thus, the Gilgamesh Epic
had a strong literary influence in the ancient Near East. The fact that the
Gilgamesh Epic was a key instrument in teaching literacy suggests that
Daniel knew it well. Daniel was one of the Jews taken to Babylon in the
exile of 605 BC. He lived to see the arrival of the Persian Empire and died
around 535 BC. A youth of royal blood and prestige, Daniel, along with
others, was chosen by Nebuchadnezzar to receive the training of a
Babylonian royal scribe. The king selected the best of the captives in order
to give them special training so that they could serve in his court—those of
the best appearance, greater capacity to learn, and especially those of
royal lineage (Daniel 1:3–4, 6). Providing special training for conquered
foreign nobility was a common practice in the ancient Near East. This
gave the king distinctive insight into the royal lives and the thinking of
conquered peoples; and the scribe could serve as an envoy to his own
people, thereby minimizing language barriers. Thus, 2 Kings 18
demonstrates the use of such men who were skilled in language.
Sennacherib sent his envoys with an army to Jerusalem to confront
Hezekiah. In v. 17, the writer identified the envoys as the Tartan, the Rab–
saris, and the Rabshakeh. The best translations for these are ‘commander
in chief,’ ‘chief eunuch,’ and ‘chief cupbearer.’ The Rabshakeh spoke in
fluent Hebrew and was presumably fluent in Aramaic (vv. 26–28).
Grayson contended that this envoy was ‘one of the highest officials in
Assyria’ and obviously spoke a number of languages fluently. He further
suggested that for one to know the language so well, the Rabshakeh’s
family might have been one of the Hebrew exiles taken to Assyria from
Samaria. Nebuchadnezzar may have had similar training in mind for
Daniel and his friends. Daniel learned the languages common to
Nebuchadnezzar II’s reign, including Aramaic and the Neo–Babylonian
dialect of Akkadian, the latter written in cuneiform. Scribes used both
languages in the Neo–Assyrian period, and during Nebuchadnezzar’s later
rule the Neo–Babylonian dialect was of regular use in various archival
documents. Students of these languages made copies of religious texts and
other literature including the Gilgamesh Epic. The first stage of literary
education involved the reading of texts with which the Babylonian youths

grew up, hearing them until they became familiar with basic linguistic
principles of the language. Oral versions of the legends of Gilgameš,
Sargon, and Nāram–Sîn were probably well known to Babylonian
children, and their early exposure to written texts about these fabled
heroes of remotest antiquity in the first level of schooling sought to take
advantage of this. They likely heard these stories regularly; so they were
the easiest with which to begin their education. The second stage
introduced new portions of many more texts for the sake of sharpening
their literary skills and also for developing a Babylonian worldview.
George wrote concerning this second stage: ‘Its purpose, then, was
twofold: to fill the student’s mind with the theological and political
ideology current in the capital and to prepare him for an apprenticeship as
a junior āšipu, a position that we know from colophons was held by many
novice scribes. As far as exposure to literature goes, the storytelling that
characterized the first phase has given way to more serious matters, the
inculcation of a world–view and the acquisition of practical expertise.’ An
āšipu was a Mesopotamian exorcist. The Gilgamesh Epic included
segments of texts that were useful for the most basic introductions to
literary education; yet they also bore complexities that gave helpful
practice to students nearing the end of their training. Though they did not
grow up in Babylon and were not as familiar with the oral traditions of the
region, Daniel and the other selected Hebrew youths would probably have
entered the same training program in Babylon, using the Gilgamesh Epic
as a primer and becoming familiar with its message and imagery.
According to the biblical account Daniel excelled in his abilities as a
scribe, interpreter of dreams, and interpreter of languages (Daniel 1:20;
2:48; 5:24–29), the kind of work expected from Babylonian scribes with
the same training. Since Daniel and his friends excelled in their work, one
might expect to find one of their names on the colophon of tablets found in
late Babylonian period. However, this would be improbable, since the
devout Hebrews would likely resist any attempt to store their work in
pagan temples where the other tablets were usually kept. On the other
hand William Shea has found evidence of the names Hananiah,
Mishael, and Abednego in documents written during Nebuchadnezzar’s
reign. Further, only a limited number of colophons from this period have
remained intact and readable. Nevertheless the standard use of the
Gilgamesh Epic for Babylonian scribal education would have made the
Hebrew youths just as familiar with it as were their Babylonian
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colleagues. The literate community in Babylon likely had heard the story
of Gilgamesh from childhood and later handled the written Gilgamesh
Epic from the beginning until the end of their literary education. Though it
was not a formal religious text, Damrosch argued that scribes viewed
Tablet 12 as an omen text, which ultimately led to Sennacherib’s founding
of a new Assyrian capital at Nineveh. Sennacherib, the son of Sargon II,
moved the capital of Assyria from Dur–Sharrakun to Nineveh after his
father’s death—an expensive and lengthy process. At the time of Sargon’s
demise Nabû–zuqup–kēnu was serving as a scribe and interpreter of
omens, making copies of the 12th tablet of the Gilgamesh Epic (the
colophons bearing his name). On the tablet Enkidu revealed that the souls
of the dead whose bodies have been abandoned never find rest in the
netherworld. Since royal scribes tended to interpret omens, Nabû–zuqup–
kēnu likely referenced this tablet, the one whom he had copied just before
the death of the great king, interpreting it as an unfavourable omen. Since
Sargon’s body had never been recovered, Sennacherib might have feared
his father’s hauntings, leading him to move the capital. This would
suggest that the epic was widely recognized and deeply respected in the
Mesopotamian world. Clearly the literate community of Babylon would
have recognized imagery from the epic. Illustrative of this is in Daniel 4.
This chapter begins with a pronouncement common to Nebuchadnezzar’s
era, which was a greeting that followed the formula that one would expect
from the Neo–Babylonian and Persian periods. It parallels Ezra 7:12,
which was written in a similar time period. Interestingly much of Daniel 4
is written from a 1st person perspective, lapsing into the 3rd person when
the king was suffering in his state of madness. Nebuchadnezzar was
probably unable to comprehend the full reality of his madness while it was
happening. In the middle of his reign while he was ‘at ease in his house’
(v. 4) a voice from heaven declared his judgment (v. 31). After the king
came to his senses, the text switched back to the king’s perspective.
Nebuchadnezzar had a dream that alarmed him (vv. 4–5). Of all the royal
servants who tried to interpret the dream, none could tell Nebuchadnezzar
its meaning (v. 7). Daniel arrived at last and interpreted the dream
successfully (vv. 8, 19–27). After Daniel gave Nebuchadnezzar the
interpretation, he appealed to him to change his ways so that he might
escape the coming judgment of God (v. 27). Nebuchadnezzar’s dream
depicted a large tree that provided shade and food for all the animals that
took refuge under it. A cosmic tree representing kingdoms or people was a

common image in the ancient Near East. An angel, or more accurately a
‘watcher’ (vv. 13, 23), pronounced the destruction of the tree—the
branches cut and the fruit scattered—leaving only the stump with a
curious metal band around it (vv. 14–15). Then the description was no
longer of a tree, but of a man (vv. 15–17). When Daniel heard the
description of the dream, he was distressed, and he revealed that the king
was both the tree and the man of the dream (vv. 20–22). Divine judgment
would lead to the removal of Nebuchadnezzar’s rule and sanity until he
acknowledged that the Most High is the true Ruler of all (v. 25). After
Daniel encouraged the king to repent and seek the favour of the Most
High, one year passed and Nebuchadnezzar saw the fulfilment of the
dream from the time he boasted of his success while atop his palace (vv.
29–30). Removed from power and living like an animal for some time, he
confessed the authority of the Most High and regained his position (vv.
31–36). The final segment of the chapter restates the king’s confession,
which emphasized his new perspective and what the Most High would do
to those with Nebuchadnezzar’s kind of pride (v. 37). The point of the
passage is that God confronts pride. God judged Nebuchadnezzar with a
kind of insanity in order to teach him that God alone granted him success
and that his success was not merely the result of his own efforts.
Nebuchadnezzar’s dream in Daniel 4 consists of images found in the first
five tablets of the Gilgamesh Epic. Most of the late Babylonian copies of
the epic found in the Babylonian region were of the first four tablets.
Scholars have discovered 22 sources of Tablets 1–4 and only 8 sources of
Tablets 5–12. This may suggest greater interest in the content of these first
tablets during that era. These four tablets told of Gilgamesh’s unmatched
greatness, Enkidu’s creation and civilizing, Gilgamesh’s defeat and
befriending of Enkidu, and Gilgamesh’s voyage with Enkidu to the Cedar
Forest in an effort to defeat the supernatural guardian Ḫumbaba and
thereby establish lasting fame. Tablet 4 described the voyage to the Cedar
Forest, and along the way Gilgamesh had a series of dreams. In the
dreams, the ogre Ḫumbaba is represented by some violent and inhuman
force that threatens to crush the hero. Though Ḫumbaba’s image indicated
certain defeat, Enkidu interpreted each dream to show that Gilgamesh
would be victorious. In contrast, Nebuchadnezzar’s dream did not
promise victory, and Daniel, its interpreter, would not interpret it any
other way. Yet Daniel did encourage the king to repent. The Sumerian
King List includes the historical Gilgamesh as the 5th king of the 1st
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Dynasty of Uruk, a ruler even revered as a god by some. He was a popular
king in his day, immortalized through the written records. This, in fact, is
one of the themes of epics: immortalization through a name written in
stone. Gilgamesh’s desire in the first portion of the epic was to become a
famous king whose name would be established forever. His clear desire
was for lasting fame. These remarks are most notable just before his
confrontation with the frightening guard of the mysterious Cedar Forest,
Ḫumbaba, where he stated, ‘Him of whom they speak, I, Gilgamesh, would
see, at whose name the lands are ever in terror. I will conquer him in the
Cedar Forest! How strong is the offspring of Uruk I will cause the land to
hear! My hand I will poise and will fell the cedars, a name that endures I
will make for me!’ (Gilgamesh Epic, 3.4.1–7). Leaving an inscription of
one’s name and story was the best method Gilgamesh could find to achieve
a kind of immortality. It was a method validated by the editor of the
standard version of the epic, Sîn–leqi–unninnī, who called the reader to
consider the wise words written by the king (1.7–10, 26–8). Other
accounts of ancient Akkadian kings who followed this example include
Naram–Sîn, who used phrases comparable to those of Gilgamesh. Several
other kings adopted similar phraseology to describe themselves. Tigay
called these ‘typical of those found in royal hymns and inscriptions of all
periods of Mesopotamian history,’ giving examples from writings of
Hammurapi, Sennacherib, Ashurnasirpal, Ashurnasirpal II, and Tukulti–
Ninurta II. This suggests that the Gilgamesh Epic influenced the royalty
of the ancient Near East and that various kings used the same
terminology in their inscriptions to compare themselves to Gilgamesh,
the iconic ruler who had seen the deep and was wise in all respects (1.1–
6). Apparently Nebuchadnezzar II was no different. Like Gilgamesh, he
sought to make his own name known. Ancient writings clearly exhibit
Nebuchadnezzar’s pride over his palace, cities, and exploits. Though most
of his writings celebrated his building accomplishments, the writings at the
end of his life concentrate on his military victories and portray him as a
great warrior. His comments outside the bible strongly parallel Daniel 4,
including the comments about his greatness because of his building
accomplishments. Several scholars have noted parallels between Daniel 4
and Nebuchadnezzar’s records of historical events. Ferguson argued for
a historical reading of Daniel 4. He drew several parallels between Daniel
4 and the popular literature in the Neo–Babylonian kingdom. Ferguson
sought to prove that Daniel 4 is not a work of fiction, but instead reveals

the true emotions and personality of the historical Nebuchadnezzar. One
of Ferguson’s major premises was Nebuchadnezzar’s familiarity with the
Gilgamesh Epic. The royalty, nobility, and commoners of Assyria and
Babylon were well acquainted with the epic. Some kings prided themselves
on their literary skills. Ashurbanipal II’s royal library, where Austin
Henry Layard and Hormuzd Rassam discovered the Gilgamesh Epic,
contained numerous texts written by the king. Ferguson produced a
compelling description that portrayed Nebuchadnezzar standing on his
roof, gazing at the city he ruled. It was a retelling of the climax in Daniel 4
that included vivid descriptions of the historical setting based on
archaeological finds: ‘He had forgotten that all of the bricks were made of
mud. He had also forgotten the affirmation made at his accession that all
he possessed came from one deity. He had not remembered that his father
had represented himself on a monument as the ‘son of nobody,’ helpless
without his god. He had failed to notice two streets below him called ‘Bow
Down, Proud One’ and ‘May the Arrogant Not Flourish.’ He did not even
recall that one of the names of his palace was ‘The Place Where Proud
Ones Are Compelled to Submit.’ Interestingly Daniel 4 describes
Nebuchadnezzar in a similar fashion as one who exhibited great hubris
because of his accomplishments. Nebuchadnezzar sought fame through
several venues. He, like Gilgamesh, had built notable structures and had
also sought to have his name inscribed in steles and bricks. Scholars of
ancient literature have recognized the tree mentioned in Nebuchadnezzar’s
dream as an important symbol in Babylonian writing. This symbol was
‘congruous’ with Nebuchadnezzar himself and his kingdom, since Babylon
had long thought of itself as the centre of the world. In fact
Nebuchadnezzar’s own writings upheld his self–perception as provider
and protector of his kingdom: ‘The produce of the lands, the product of
mountains, the wealth of the sea I received in her. Under her everlasting
shadow I gathered all men in peace. Vast heaps of grain beyond measure I
stored up within her.’ An ancient treatise about Babylon called the city
one that ‘ensures the life of the land.’ Also both Nebuchadnezzar and his
father Nabopolassar made several references about the summit of
Etemenanki as being ‘rival or equal to the heavens.’ Mesopotamian kings
regularly sought to cut down cedars, since they provided the best lumber.
Nebuchadnezzar’s compulsion to make a name for himself through his
military victories and building projects drove him to the forest for trees
several times. After befriending Enkidu, Gilgamesh decided on a challenge
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to establish his fame, a trip to the Cedar Forest to confront and kill its
guardian, Ḫumbaba. Though Enkidu tried to dissuade him, Gilgamesh was
determined to kill the guardian and level the trees (Gilgamesh Epic 2:260–
301). After undertaking a strenuous journey and enduring some
foreboding dreams of impending doom (Gilgamesh Epic 4:1–250),
Gilgamesh and Enkidu confronted Ḫumbaba and eventually had him at
their mercy (Gilgamesh Epic 5:144–155). Though Gilgamesh had second
thoughts and Ḫumbaba pleaded repeatedly to be spared, the recently
civilized Enkidu continually demanded Ḫumbaba’s execution (Gilgamesh
Epic 5:156–259). Compelled by Enkidu’s words, Gilgamesh slew the beast
and Ḫumbaba was finished (Gilgamesh Epic 5:258–69). Earlier versions
of the epic focused mainly on Gilgamesh’s voyage with Enkidu to the
forest to defeat Ḫumbaba. In Gilgamesh and the Cedar Forest, Enkidu
actually killed Ḫumbaba instead of Gilgamesh. This early version of the
epic also made a vital link between Ḫumbaba and the cedar he guarded,
so that when the tree was cut down, Ḫumbaba fell. Interestingly the same
concept is seen in Daniel 4. When the tree fell, Nebuchadnezzar fell, but
not without some mercy from God. The stump with the band around it
made of bronze and iron is an interesting detail (Daniel 4:15, 23). Perhaps
the best explanation is that the stump was a symbol of the inevitable return
of Nebuchadnezzar to power after his time of insanity. The band may have
been present to hold the base of the roots together so that the tree would
remain alive and grow again. If this is the case, then the stump was a
symbol of God’s grace on the king despite his arrogance. The watchers
paid special attention to the stump to ensure its survival even after the tree
was cut down. Gilgamesh neglected such thoughts of mercy under
Enkidu’s advice. The account of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream in Daniel 4
uses a unique term for heavenly beings. The term for these beings is
‘watcher’ and Daniel 4 has the only occurrences of this word in the Old
Testament, which leads one to wonder why it was used only in Daniel 4.
Several scholars have attempted to explain its use. Collins stated that ‘the
oldest non–biblical attestations are probably those in the Enochic Book of
the Watchers dating from sometime in the 3rd century BCE.’ The word is
also in the Qumran scrolls describing the sons of God and Nephilim of
Genesis 6. These watchers were evil spirits, but other texts portray similar
watchers who were not rebellious. Dahood and Murray suggested a very
old root of the word in Ugaritic, which meant ‘to guard,’ but Collins
called this proposal ‘inconclusive.’ However, the Akkadian word naṣāru

meant ‘a night watchman.’ Its Hebrew cognate described lookouts and
guards of cities (2 Kings 17:9; 18:8; Jeremiah 31:6). Since this Hebrew
cognate appears frequently in the Old Testament, Ferguson expounded on
the parallel between these night watchmen and those in the Gilgamesh
Epic: ‘Watchers are important figures in the Gilgamesh epic. Besides the
guardian of the cedar there are watchers of the night. There are scorpion
people who are stationed at the gate through which Gilgamesh must pass
to find out about eternal life. The Babylonians knew of personified knight
watchers who, alert and never sleeping, control destinies on the earth.
Deities were in charge of watching the night while the great gods slept.’
Thus, ‘watcher’ was a special word to describe the divine guards of
heaven. Here it may have represented the supernatural guardians
appointed similar to Ḫumbaba being appointed to watch and guard the
Cedar Forest in the Gilgamesh Epic. The Assyrian cognate naṣāru can
mean ‘to keep somebody under guard,’ ‘to stand guard,’ ‘to be watchful,’
and ‘to keep watch for celestial phenomena.’ Furthermore, this applied to
Enkidu as Gilgamesh’s guardian (naṣāru), and the supernatural scorpion
people who guarded the gate on Gilgamesh’s journey after Enkidu’s
death. A related word, maṣṣaru, also meant ‘guardian, watchman, watch,
garrison,’ and it identified Ḫumbaba as such. Thus, the great guardian of
the Cedar Forest, Ḫumbaba, might have been a parallel to the watcher in
Daniel 4, since he too was appointed by a god to watch and guard.
Ḫumbaba’s legacy endured into the Hellenized world. Two instances in
the Qumran scrolls identify both Gilgamesh and Ḫumbaba as watchers
who were associated with the ‘sons of God’ in Genesis 6. Ḫumbaba’s
presence in these late texts strongly suggests that his position as a watcher
(as perceived in the ancient Mesopotamian and Hellenized worlds) could
explain the use of ‘watcher’ in Daniel 4. Though Ḫumbaba was a
guardian of the Cedar Forest appointed by the gods, the watcher in Daniel
4 was a ‘holy one’ among the many who served the one true God (vv. 13,
17). After the watcher commanded the fall of the great tree (v. 14), the
stump became the focus, fastened with a band of iron and bronze. The
watcher mentioned the grass of the field and a man who would become
like a wild animal (vv. 15–16). Daniel revealed that both the tree and the
animal were pictures of Nebuchadnezzar’s future, and that he should do
good and righteous deeds in order to avoid this terrible fate (v. 27). Some
have viewed this scene as a reference to Enkidu, the animal–like man
created to challenge Gilgamesh’s oppression. At his creation Enkidu was
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a wild, uncivilized man covered with hair who lived in the forest among
the animals. Eventually he became a civilized human being and befriended
Gilgamesh. They began their adventures together until Enkidu became sick
and died, which led Gilgamesh on a search for immortality. Enkidu
represented the primordial man of antiquity and was seen in this state as a
pitiful character. Gregory Mobley identified the Enkidu character of the
Old Babylonian and Standard Babylonian versions of the epic as the
‘oldest extant literary representative of the wild man.’ The description of
Nebuchadnezzar in Daniel 4 compares closely to Enkidu’s pre–civilized
state. The Enkidu of Sumerian literature was different from that of the
later Babylonian depictions. Later versions of Enkidu arose from a need to
transform the character of Enkidu from beloved servant to alter ego and
may have been original intentions. The Enkidu of the standard version of
the Gilgamesh Epic was not a servant, but a counterpart. Also new to this
late version of the epic (existing during Nebuchadnezzar’s reign) was the
manifest hubris of the two companions. Moran has specifically noted
Enkidu’s arrogance when he encouraged Gilgamesh to kill Ḫumbaba.
Though he was aiding Gilgamesh, Enkidu’s arrogance provoked the anger
of the gods. Moran commented further that ‘the context of the Gilgamesh
narrative certainly establishes hubris as a quality that makes divine
retribution inevitable.’ After Gilgamesh and Enkidu defeated the Bull of
Heaven, Enkidu dreamed of the gods’ sentence of death for him, became
sick, and died in a matter of days. In Daniel 4, Nebuchadnezzar thought
he was ruling in the spirit of Gilgamesh, but he ignored the divine
warnings given to him and received the pre–civilized condition of Enkidu
as judgment. So, just as the name ‘Nebuchadnezzar’ implies both power
and tragedy in the modern world, the name ‘Gilgamesh’ represented these
ideas during Nebuchadnezzar’s rule over the Neo–Babylonian Empire. In
Daniel 4, the scene from the tree to the animal–like state in the dream
occurred suddenly (v. 15). There seems to be an abrupt change of subjects
in this verse. The tree was the topic and then, without warning, someone
would become like an animal drenched with dew. Though some think
about redaction as a possibility, another option arises from the Gilgamesh
parallels. Perhaps Daniel 4 represented the events and some symbols of
Gilgamesh in a reversed order. Henze suggested a similar reversal
regarding Nebuchadnezzar’s devolution from a kingly status to an
Enkidu–like position. However, he denied that the composer of Daniel 4
intentionally used Gilgamesh imagery. Nevertheless, in Nebuchadnezzar’s

dream, images from the Gilgamesh Epic appear polemically in an inverted
order. Similar to the depiction of the Babylonian king in Isaiah 14, who
expected exaltation to the very heavens, but would ultimately go to Sheol,
Nebuchadnezzar expected Gilgamesh–like fame, but instead received the
identity of his pre–civilized counterpart, Enkidu. In the Gilgamesh Epic
the primeval beginnings of Enkidu and fearful actions of Gilgamesh as an
oppressive shepherd subsided when they became friends. Then their first
great accomplishment came at the Cedar Forest when they killed
Ḫumbaba, the watcher and guardian (maṣṣaru). Daniel 4 reversed these
actions. The tree image, as a great and stately figure of Nebuchadnezzar’s
rule, fell at the command of a watcher and guardian, leading not to victory
and pride, but to a period of shameful judgment as the Enkidu character.
The break in v. 15 may have represented a break in the well–known epic,
revealing two scenes in descending order, leading to shame instead of
hubris, and showing that Nebuchadnezzar may have wanted to emulate
Gilgamesh, but would suffer like Enkidu at the will of the one true God (v.
17). Yahweh reversed Nebuchadnezzar’s expectations, using imagery
familiar to his setting.”
Paul Ferguson [21st century biblical scholar] likewise summarizes:
“Nebuchadnezzar’s madness in Daniel 4 is not unique in ancient Near
Eastern literature. The portrayal of the king’s humiliation closely
parallels the Mesopotamian picture of the primordial man, Enkidu,
found in the Gilgamesh epic. His whole body is covered with hair like a
woman. His locks sprout like grain. He knows nothing about people or
land. He eats grass with the gazelles, and with the game he drinks at the
water hole. He ranges at large over the open country. When he becomes
civilized in 7 days he loses his kinship with the animals, and they run from
him. One might say he loses the heart of an animal and receives a human
heart (Daniel 4:16). Gardner and Maier see Enkidu as a representation
of the low primitive state from which civilized people sprang. The same
picture is found in a Sumerian story that relates a dispute between the
cattle and grain deities. In this tale primordial humans knew not the
wearing of garments. They ate grass with their mouths like sheep. They
drank water from ditches. Berossus describes early men of Babylonia as
devoid of culture and living without laws, just like wild animals (SANE, I,
155). A king being warned about possible reduction to an animal–like
state is not unique to Daniel’s book. A generation before the time of
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Nebuchadnezzar’s father, a Median king receives such a warning in one of
Esarhaddon’s treaties. If he does not recognize the authority of his
overlord, this king will be condemned to expulsion from gods and men. He
must roam the open country like a wild ass or gazelle (Daniel 5:21). All
these parallels closely match the state to which Nebuchadnezzar is
reduced. He is driven out from humans and lives with the wild ass. He
receives the heart of an animal. He lives in the open field and eats grass
like an ox. His fingernails become like the claws of an eagle. All this must
take place until seven periods of time pass over him (Daniel 4:15–17, 29–
32; 5:21). The king in seven periods of time undergoes the reverse
process that Enkidu experiences in seven days. Tragically and ironically
he becomes like the wild oxen and the dragons he repeatedly boasted
about placing on the gates of Babylon. He is reduced to the lowest state to
which a man could descend in the Mesopotamian conception. He is
demoted to the original state of man before he received the civilization of
which Nebuchadnezzar is so proud. The phrasing of Nebuchadnezzar’s
fate according to these parallels seems to be a sterling example of
communication. The king was warned that he would descend from the
most exalted state of humanity to the lowest state of existence a
Mesopotamian mind could conceive of. There would have been no plainer
way to tell an educated Babylonian he would be humbled than to inform
him that he was going to become like Enkidu. Schools in
Nebuchadnezzar’s reign were still making copies of the Gilgamesh epic.
Since this epic was one of the most widely circulated pieces of
Babylonian literature, the king would likely have been familiar with it.”
Next in v. 26, we read: “Just as it was ordered to leave the stump of the
tree in the ground along with its roots, so your kingdom will be restored to
you when you realize that Heaven rules over everything.”
The words “will be restored” are not actually a verb in the Aramaic text,
but a rendition of the Aramaic adjective qayyāmâ [or “enduring”]. Thus,
this can be translated: “your kingdom will endure until you recognize.”
The point is that his kingdom would stay intact during this time of
judgment and be safe–guarded by God. Thus, this was a word of grace, for
his kingdom would “endure” and stay intact during this time of judgment
and be safe–guarded by God, allowing the possibility for him to be
restored again to his throne and in his right mind.

In fact, it would be necessary for him to recognize that it is “heaven” that
rules, before any such restoration could take place. In other words, earlier
in vv. 17, 25, the king was to recognize that it is the “Most High” who
rules. Now, in v. 26, Daniel substitutes “Most High” for the Aramaic
šᵊmayin [or “heaven”], referencing God ruling from his heavenly throne.
Thus, who served as the official ruler while Nebuchadnezzar was
incapacitated during these 7 years? One possibility would be that his son
[Amel–Marduk] ruled over the country during this period, allowing the
government to continue functioning. In fact, some contracts that were
signed by Amel–Marduk before Nebuchadnezzar’s death could indicate a
period of co–regency, but Amel–Marduk nonetheless served as king after
Nebuchadnezzar’s death in 562–560 b.c. [Jeremiah 52:31–32].
Donald Wiseman [20th century Assyriologist] says: “It has been assumed
that, since the last contract dated by Nebuchadrezzar’s 43rd regnal year
was written at Uruk (8 October 562) and the first to be dated by his son
and successor Amel–Marduk was written that same day, Nebuchadrezzar
died early in October. However, two contracts dated to the previous
August–September by Amel–Marduk could reflect a period of co–
regency, while another dated 15/V/43 (29 August 562), but with an
unusual formula: ‘the goddess of Uruk, king of Babylon,’ if not a scribal
error, might mean that Nebuchadrezzar died somewhat earlier, and that a
cautious scribe in a time of disturbance following the king's death waited
to see who his successor would be. Later tradition supposed that Amel–
Marduk acted as regent during his father's illness and that there was
confusion at the time of a handover to a successor. Any hiatus was of
short duration, for the same contract datings show that Amel–Marduk was
acknowledged as king in all the major Babylonian cities by mid–October.
He may be identified with the unnamed royal prince conducting business
affairs in 570 BC. It seems likely that Nebuchadrezzar would have acted
to continue the process of hereditary succession, and his son is listed in
the Uruk king list as reigning for 2 years. Berossus considered Amel–
Marduk to have ‘managed affairs in a lawless and outrageous fashion,’
and for this he was assassinated. A fragmentary historical epic attributed
to his reign mentions a Babylonian king who gave arbitrary orders and
refused to listen to the words of a counsellor, whose attention was not
devoted towards promoting the welfare of Esagila and Babylon, who
showed no love to son and daughter and in the end undertook an act of
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penance before Marduk. Though this appears to describe Amel–Marduk,
of whom a daughter Indu, but no son, is named, it could apply to
Nebuchadrezzar in a time of decline.”
Joe Sprinkle [21st century biblical scholar] concludes: “Although there is
no unambiguous extra–biblical corroboration of Nebuchadnezzar’s
madness, there is a broken Babylonian cuneiform text describing events
near the end of Nebuchadnezzar’s reign that might refer to it. It states,
‘Nebuchadnezzar pondered … his life was of no value to him. To Amel–
Marduk he speaks what was not … he does not heed the mention of his
name or pronouncement … he does not have in mind any concern for son
or daughter, for him there is no family and clan does not exist … he prays
to the lord of lords, his hands raised in supplication. He weeps bitterly to
his god.’ A. K. Grayson, who published this text, took the language as
mostly applying to Amel–Marduk, Nebuchadnezzar’s son and unpopular
successor whom the text mentions. Wiseman, however, argues that it
more likely applies to Nebuchadnezzar. The broken nature of the text
precludes certainty, though if it does apply to Nebuchadnezzar it may well
be describing further symptoms of his madness.”
Finally in v. 27, we read: “Therefore, your majesty, may my advice be
acceptable to you: Stop your sinning, do what’s right, and put a stop to
your wickedness by showing kindness to the oppressed. Perhaps your
tranquillity will continue.”
This verse is difficult to translate and interpret, and is read two other ways:
1. To: “atone for your sins by good deeds, and for your misdeeds by
kindness to the poor; then you will have lasting happiness.”
2. To: “atone for your sins by almsgiving and for your iniquity by
mercy to the poor.”
Such translations could easily lead to a theology of salvation by works!
These ideas of “atoning for sins” and “almsgiving” arise from the LXXθ
that reads: tas hamartias sou en eleēmosunais lutrōsai [either “atone for
your sins by alms” or “redeem your sins by alms”]. But, the LXX
translators were not thinking of “atone” like 1st century Christians.

Nevertheless, the Aramaic bᵊṣiḏqâ [for “do what’s right”] can include
almsgiving and charity. Justification for this arises from the parallelism
with the Aramaic bᵊmiḥan ănāyin [or “by showing kindness to the
oppressed”]. In other words, the Aramaic ănāyin [for “oppressed”] can
also mean “poor,” “needy,” or “miserable.” Thus, there were many in
Nebuchadnezzar’s kingdom that were oppressed and afflicted [and poor as
a result], and much of this was the fault of Nebuchadnezzar’s harsh
policies and overly–ambitious building projects. Thus, Daniel calls for the
king to rule over his subjects righteously and fairly [avoiding corruption
and overly harsh measures]. So, Daniel was advising the king to break
from his sins [not to atone/redeem his sins], and this aligns with Paul, that
our salvation from sin is only by grace through faith [Ephesians 2:8–9].
Chrysostom [4th century Bishop of Constantinople] beautifully concludes:
“Do you not see that when Daniel gave that excellent advice to
Nebuchadnezzar, he did not merely consider the poor; but what? Give up
your wealth not that others may be fed, but that you may escape
punishment, and Christ says, ‘Go and sell what you possess, and give it to
the poor, and come follow me’ [Matthew 19:21]. Virginity and fasting and
lying on the ground are more difficult than this, but nothing is so strong
and powerful to extinguish the fire of our sins as almsgiving. It is greater
than all other virtues. It places the lover of it by the side of the king, and
justly. Almsgiving extends to all and embraces the members of Christ, and
actions that extend their effects to many are far greater than those that are
confined to one. Almsgiving is the mother of love, of that love which is
the characteristic of Christianity, which is greater than all miracles by
which the disciples of Christ are made plain. It is the medicine of our
sins, the cleansing of the filth of our souls, the ladder fixed to heaven; it
binds together the body of Christ.”
Thus, Nebuchadnezzar, in all his zeal to build massive cities, temples, and
palaces, had harshly oppressed many people, using them as cheap labour
and paying only meagre wages. They were oppressed and living in
poverty, while he himself enjoyed the luxuries of his palace. Daniel was
keenly aware of these social injustices and beckoned the king to change all
this by being merciful to his subjects. The advice that Daniel offered the
king required a great deal of courage on his part. Thus, if the king were to
heed Daniel’s advice, “perhaps your tranquillity will continue.”
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This fell short of an absolute promise, but it did suggest that this was a
likely outcome for the king. In fact, the Aramaic šᵊlēwâ [for “tranquillity”]
occurs only here in Daniel, but the related Aramaic adjective šᵊlēh was
used earlier in v. 4, where it was used to describe the king “resting” in his
palace prior to the dream. In regard to that flourishing and sense of
security that he had previously enjoyed, God was quite willing to extend to
him this blessedness in life. But, he could not continue to enjoy that while
oppressing his subjects and failing to uphold righteousness in the land.
What he enjoyed [power and a luxurious lifestyle] was not evil in and of
itself, but how he obtained it was obnoxious to God. In the same spirit
whereby God would one day show how much he loved the world by
giving Jesus to die on the cross for all humanity [John 3:16], even now he
showed his care and compassion for every one of those poor and oppressed
members of Nebuchadnezzar’s kingdom. Thus, the prolonging of the
king’s prosperity was conditioned upon breaking from his sinful ways of
oppressing his subjects. Does this mean that God’s judgment could have
been averted if Nebuchadnezzar listened to Daniel’s advice? Scholars are
divided on this issue. Some argue that the judgment would not have been
averted, but only that the time until the judgment would have been
delayed. Others argue that Daniel seems to have held out to the king the
genuine possibility of foregoing this judgment, demonstrating God’s
willingness to forgive. It is hard to be dogmatic on this issue, though the
fact that judgment does not fall immediately, since it transpired after 1
year [later in v. 29], this may indicate that true repentance might have
averted the judgment of God. Of course, God knew exactly what
Nebuchadnezzar would do, and he knew that judgment would indeed
come. Nevertheless, this question should not distract us from seeing the
main issue of v. 27, namely God’s compassion on the subjects of
Nebuchadnezzar and his concern for righteous dealings in his kingdom.
In summary, this is a valuable lesson for all of us. Some people use
positions of authority to serve their own interests, but a true leader is
concerned for the needs and interests of those whom he/she represents.
What about the people around you, and especially those who might be
under your area of responsibility? Do you know their needs, and do you
take time to find out how you might be of help to them? It is not enough to
not oppress others. In fact, it is much more important to see that God wants
us to be men and women of mercy, to really care for people.

God wants us to treasure people more than projects, and human needs
more than deadlines. We are to be agents of mercy to those who are
hurting in this world. We will never be able to right every wrong in the
whole world, but we can be merciful to those in our own sphere of
influence. In our fast–paced world, God calls us to take notice of others
and help those who are struggling. It is not easy, and there is a fierce
temptation to excuse oneself by saying “I just don’t have time.” However,
it is important to God, and he wants us to do the kinds of things that
uphold righteousness, and he delights to see us extending mercy, because
he is like that, and it is no wonder that he wants his people to be like that!
Gleason Archer [20th century biblical scholar] says: “Daniel needed real
courage to inform his royal master that his rule was marred by the sin of
oppression and callousness toward the poor and disadvantaged among his
people. Daniel’s candour might have cost him his high office or even his
life. But, apparently Nebuchadnezzar was so intimidated by the dream as
to feel that he had better do everything possible to placate the displeasure
of the Almighty. Specifically Daniel urged Nebuchadnezzar to adopt two
new policies: (1) to re–examine his conduct in the light of the moral law
(understanding it as binding on him as on his subjects, even though as
their sovereign he was immune to prosecution); (2) to show a new
sensitivity to the plight of the poor in his empire, protecting them instead
of allowing the rich to exploit and oppress them. Nothing is said about
Nebuchadnezzar’s response; the chapter does not aim to enhance his glory
but only that of Yahweh. But, the one–year delay in the judgment on him
implies he made some effort to follow Daniel’s recommendation.”
Eugene Carpenter [21st century biblical scholar] likewise summarizes:
“The tree that the king saw in his dream was a fitting symbol for himself
and his kingdom, both of whom God had blessed in order to give order
and sustenance to the social structure and peoples of the earth in that day.
From the 2nd millennium BC, we have an impressive portrayal of a god as
a cosmic tree that provides sustenance to all living things. That ‘all the
world was fed from this tree’ (v. 12) makes the symbolism quite clear, as
does the historical and political reality of the situation. In the Garden of
Eden, it was trees that fed the first couple (Genesis 2:15–17). Much like
the whole world was fed through Pharaoh’s Egypt in Joseph’s day, and
just as God had brought that about (Genesis 50:19–21), so now God was
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caring for the whole world through the fecundity of the Babylonian
Empire. Although trees were a symbol of fertility and a common subject of
dreams, worship, and religious symbolism (Isaiah 6:13; Ezekiel 6:13;
17:24; 31:8), and wisdom speculation (Psalm 1:3; Proverbs 3:18; 13:12;
15:4), this giant tree and its meaning must be understood primarily from
its surrounding biblical context. The tree of Ezekiel 17:22 and God’s
actions toward it foreshadow God’s posture toward the tree in
Nebuchadnezzar’s dream. Nebuchadnezzar had already adumbrated (v. 4)
what the subject of his dream might be, with his use of the word meaning
‘luxurious’ or ‘prosperous’. The tree’s size, ‘reaching high into the
heavens’ (v. 11), and its location are singled out for special attention,
along with its fruitfulness (v. 12). Babylon’s strategic location on the
eastern side of the Euphrates River placed it at the hub of human
civilization during Nebuchadnezzar’s reign. The tree’s height, reaching
to the heavens, recalls the tower of Babel in Genesis 11:4, with the tower
reaching to heaven, and no doubt it also connects that tower to the
temple–tower complex in Babylon in Daniel’s day. The main building
there bore the name the foundation of heaven and earth. But, more than
just a building, what is in view is the delegated kingship of
Nebuchadnezzar that had become so extensive and extraordinary. God is
interested and concerned about this great kingdom. This time he will not
come down (Genesis 11:5), but will send his holy watcher angel down to
carry out his command (v. 13). Unfortunately, he sees pride and confusion
in Babylon repeated (v. 14; Genesis 11:5–7), for it had begun to seek its
own autonomy again, forgetting the one who gave it sovereignty (Daniel
2:28–30). Likening himself to a god in his hubris, Nebuchadnezzar
asserted that he had built this city for his own honour and splendour (v.
30). The connection of these words with the tower of Babel in Genesis 11
is palpable. The people built a city to magnify their name (Genesis 11:4).
Here the king locates the power of rulership granted by heaven in
himself, disavowing that ‘heaven rules’ (v. 26). His building activity is
still evident today both in the city of Babylon and many surrounding cities
and other areas. He built and restored many temples and ancient temple–
tower complexes. He was pleased with the external structures he had built,
but while they pleased him, they did not please God (vv. 27, 30–31;
Genesis 11:5–9). The cutting down of the tree is spoken of in vv. 13–14,
but the fact that its roots and stump are left implies that it may hopefully
become healthy again and will not die. While the horticultural purpose of

the band of iron and bronze (v. 15) is not technically clear, with respect to
the symbolism of the dream, it most probably represents God’s sovereign
arrangements to hold together the Babylonian government while the
king passed through his time of judgment. This judgment is described as
an event that will teach the king patience and humility. It allows for his
renewal and for God’s glorification (vv. 26, 34, 36). The fettering of the
stump of the tree may also involve a subtle reference to the illness that
seized the king for this period of time. God evidently provided a
supportive group of persons to help keep the rulership of Nebuchadnezzar
intact (‘surrounded by tender grass’) until he could return. In contrast,
after Nebuchadnezzar’s death, the empire went into a time of struggles for
the throne under his successors (561–555 BC), who faced many
difficulties. Finally, Nabonidus (555–539 BC), who had no immediate
family ties to the royal family in Babylon, took the throne. But, under him
(and his son, Belshazzar), serious political, religious, and military threats
arose. The head of gold was gone, and history moved toward a new
world order rather quickly after Nebuchadnezzar’s 43–year reign. The
stump is more than the core rulership of the Babylonian Empire. It also
represents the king himself. The original Aramaic text is shocking in its
expression, for he is to take his place among the beasts, eating the grass of
the field. As the grass is drenched with dew in the early morning, so he
will be also. Strikingly, his own identity will be changed from being human
to that of a beast. According to Genesis, humans were made in God’s
‘image’ with a heart to follow his righteous and divine ways (Genesis
1:26–28). Seven ‘periods of time,’ a somewhat indeterminate amount of
time, indicate that a period of time will be given for this judgment so that
God’s purposes can be accomplished—just as he finished his work of
creation in 7 days and sent Israel into exile for 70 years (7 × 10). Daniel
suggested a remedy for the king that might save him from this terrifying
pronouncement (v. 27), though this apparently went unheeded. The
messengers who delivered the decree to the king are angels (v. 13) who
are vigilant to watch over God’s people and do his bidding toward them.
The word is often translated ‘watchers,’ signifying a group of divine
beings who diligently keep watch to see that God’s plans are properly and
duly carried out. The term is used of the angel Raphael and the archangels
discussed in 1 Enoch 1–36. In case there were any questions concerning
what the dream was about, Daniel spelled it all out (vv. 19–27). The
purpose was twofold: (1) Since the entire world could see this tree (vv. 11,
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22), it would be a clear demonstration to the nations that God alone is the
truly sovereign Most High God. (2) They would see that he gives delegated
authority to whomever he chooses—even to a Chaldean like
Nebuchadnezzar, who has been humbled and made to recognize his
helplessness before the Most High and that heaven rules (vv. 27, 34).
Daniel’s interpretation of the dream is reported in vv. 19–27. The first
thing Daniel realized was that the dream was aimed at the king. With tact,
he informed the king of this (Daniel 2:14). It is clear that the king showed
great respect toward Daniel, even urging him to give the interpretation no
matter what it was. So, Daniel did not shrink from telling the king the
truth. By contrast, Alexander the Great had augurs and soothsayers who
sometimes interpreted his dreams merely to please him, and false
prophets in Israel had prophesied smooth words instead of any true word
from God (Jeremiah 28:10–11). The tree, the king is informed, is ‘you’ (v.
22). This was both flattering and frightening at the same time. Historically,
Nebuchadnezzar was the king who made the Chaldean dynasty (625–539
BC) of the Neo–Babylonian Empire famous throughout the known world.
His reign lasted from 604 to 562 BC, some 43 years. The ancient remains
of Babylon even today, as well as in the time of the Greek historian
Herodotus (485–425 BC), are largely the work of this unusual king. He
was a statesman, a general, a politician, a religious leader, a builder, and
a strategist of unusual ability. His popularity with later Babylonian
generations was well deserved. He is mentioned in nine Old Testament
books, over 85 times in total. Even Israel was destined by her own God to
bow before him, as God’s servant (Jeremiah 25:9; 27:6). But, for all of
this, Nebuchadnezzar also fell down before Daniel, the Judean exile
from Jerusalem, to honour him (Daniel 2:46). His life was clearly
circumscribed by the sovereign Most High God who both honoured him
and humbled him. It was foretold by Jeremiah that God would ‘put
everything, even the wild animals, under his control’ (Jeremiah 27:6). The
splendour and genius of Babylon was tied to this man by the Most High
himself. As he was the head of gold (Daniel 2:38), so he was the great tree.
The decree of the Most High through his holy messenger was fixed.
Nebuchadnezzar was to be judged, and the things spoken concerning him
(vv. 13–16) would take place. The stump and the roots, safely bound by the
band of iron and bronze and carefully fed, represented his successful
restoration—after he had learned the purpose of all of this (vv. 17, 26).
Heaven rules—that is, God rules—not the Babylonian king or any other

human monarch. Any human king is merely his delegated servant. This is
the only place in the Old Testament where ‘heaven’ is a circumlocution for
God himself, for the king was to understand that ‘heaven’ rules (Luke
3:22; 20:4–5; John 17:1). Then v. 27 is surprising, but refreshing. Daniel,
in his respect and concern for the king, and above all in his respect for the
moral and ethical laws of his God, gave a strong but tactfully phrased
admonition to the king. Although the dream would come true, God might
honour the king with a longer reign if he were to abolish his sins and
show mercy to the poor and oppressed. This social charge to this mighty
monarch recalls the thundering prophet Amos, who called for social
righteousness for the poor, the widow, the orphan, and the oppressed
(Amos 4:1; 5:11–12). Daniel’s tact in presenting his admonition reflects
the wisdom of a wise man (Proverbs 15:1), and his mention that the king’s
reign might be prolonged applies the principle that God gave his people:
‘follow my righteous laws, and you will live long in the land I am giving
you’ (Deuteronomy 32:47). This was a principle that was not just for
Israel but for all humanity and especially all human rulers to follow
(Exodus 22:21–22; Deuteronomy 24:17). At the ancient city of Ur, kings
Ur–Nammu and Shulgi had been charged to care for the widow, orphan,
and poor. The great Hammurabi had been told to protect the weak and the
widow. The king’s peace and prosperity could have continued, but
instead, within a year, a decree from heaven overtook him. There are
some hints in this chapter that all was not well with Nebuchadnezzar;
these can reasonably be connected to his illness, which is often referred to
as zoanthropy. A fragmentary text exists that might refer to a time during
his reign when he was suffering from a mental disorder; though the
conclusion is not assured, some scholars would apply it to
Nebuchadnezzar. First of all, his emotional and mental stability is open to
question: He was terrified by the dream, which was really a nightmare (v.
5), he pled abjectly that Daniel help him (vv. 9, 18–19), and the decree
itself indicates that the king was suffering delusions of grandeur, so much
so that he thought he himself was in total control of all the kingdoms of the
world (v. 17). Daniel’s kindness to the king is addressed as if to a person
in serious trouble (v. 19), and his warning and admonition to the king is
instructive (v. 27). He had, by this time, completed his great building
campaigns, including, we assume, the famous hanging gardens of
Babylon. But, he had done all these things while oppressing the poor
(Amos 3:15; 4:1). The king was loaded down with sins, was not practicing
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righteousness, and had not been merciful to the poor. A king with this
resume would be a candidate for instability, to say the least. His seeming
comfort and prosperity was shown to be false. There remains almost no
historical information about Nebuchadnezzar’s last 30 years (592–562
BC). Josephus (Antiquities 10.10.6) records information about him that
seems to refer to a serious possibility of insanity that may have overtaken
the king for an unknown period of time. There is also a text that records an
illness that befell Nabonidus, the last king of Babylon, and his prayer for
healing. He was healed from his illness by the help of a Jewish diviner. All
these traditions are later than Daniel, and it is difficult to discern how
much they reflect the illness of Nebuchadnezzar in this chapter.
Longman rightly observes that it is not cogent to apply the Nabonidus text
to Nebuchadnezzar on the basis of its content, and that, assuming a 6th
century date of Daniel’s book, the other texts were written with the
events of Daniel’s book to inform them.”
7) How was Nebuchadnezzar’s dream fulfilled? (4:28–33)
Starting with vv. 28–30, we read: “All of this happened to King
Nebuchadnezzar. About a year later, as the king was walking on the roof
of the royal palace of Babylon, he commented to himself, ‘Isn’t Babylon
great? I’ve built a royal palace in it by my own might and power, for the
sake of my majesty.’”
This mysterious dream of Nebuchadnezzar was rightfully interpreted by
Daniel. God had warned the king that he would be humbled and made to
understand “that Heaven rules over everything,” and that God puts men in
places of ruling according to his choosing [vv. 25–26]. Now, what Daniel
had foretold is exactly what came to pass [v. 28]. However, it did not
happen immediately! Instead, “a year” passed after Daniel’s interpretation
of the dream before God began to act [v. 29]. Perhaps the king was
beginning to think that there was no danger of judgment from God or that
it had only been a silly meaningless dream. If so, he was wrong, since God
does not forget his word. Daniel had expressed that there was hope for the
king, provided he truly repent [v. 27]. God had given the king “a year” in
which to repent and acknowledge him as the true ruler of humanity.
Unfortunately, the king did not avail himself of God’s grace, and the
opportunity passed him by [vv. 29–30].

Thus, it was a moment of prideful boasting that became the occasion for
God’s judgment. One evening he was taking a stroll on the rooftop of his
royal palace and started boasting in his heart over the city he had built up
to be the most awe–inspiring city of the world in that day. He asked
himself “isn’t Babylon great?” and then made three prideful claims:
1. He claimed to have built it himself as his personal “royal palace.”
The Aramaic h ḵal malḵûṯāʾ [or “the palace of the kingship”] has
the genitive construct, since h ḵal is a loanword from Akkadian
ekallu, and from Sumerian e–gal, which can mean either “palace”
or “temple.” Thus, from his perspective, Babylon was his dwelling
place. He saw the city’s purpose primarily for his personal benefit
and luxury rather than seeing himself as a servant to his people.
2. He claimed to have built it by his “own might and power.” Even
though the city was really built by the sweat of thousands of his
subjects [probably including slave labour and foreign captives], he
viewed the city as a reflection of his mighty strength and gave
himself the credit for its accomplishment.
3. He saw the city’s purpose as being “for the sake of my majesty.”
This was self–centered thinking to believe that the architectural
grandeur of the city was intended for his personal honour. This was
not only an insult to God, but it even violated his own religious
beliefs, for as a worshiper of Babylon’s patron deity [Marduk], the
city was meant to be for Marduk’s honour and glory! From an
earlier part of his reign, Nebuchadnezzar wrote [from the Wadi–
Brisa Inscription]: “from the Upper Sea to the Lower Sea … which
Marduk, my lord, has entrusted to me, I have made … the city of
Babylon to be the foremost among all the countries and every
human habitation; its name I have made/elevated to the most
worthy of praise among the sacred cities. The sanctuaries of my
lords Nebo and Marduk as a wise ruler … always.”
In another inscription [from the East India House Inscription],
Nebuchadnezzar wrote: “In Babylon, my dear city, which I love,
was the palace, the house of wonder of the people, the bond of the
land, the brilliant place, the abode of majesty in Babylon.”
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Berossus [3rd century b.c. Babylonian priest] says: “He magnificently
decorated the temple of Bel and other temples with the spoils of war; he
also restored the originally existing city and fortified it with another one,
and, in order that besiegers might no longer be able to divert the course of
the river and direct it against the city, he surrounded the inner city with
three walls and the outer one with three, those of the inner city being of
burnt brick and bitumen, while those of the outer city were of brick alone.
After walling about the city in this remarkable way and adorning the gate–
towers as befitted their sacred character, he built, where his father’s
palace was, another palace adjoining it, of the height of which and its
magnificence in other respects it would perhaps be extravagant of me to
speak, except to say that in spite of its being so great and splendid it was
completed in 15 days. In this palace he erected retaining walls of stone, to
which he gave an appearance very like that of mountains, and by planting
on them trees of all kinds, he achieved this effect, and built the so–called
hanging garden because his wife, who had been brought up in the region
of Media, had a desire for her native environment.”
Although Berossus is the first writer to mention “the so–called hanging
garden” of Babylon, and claims Nebuchadnezzar was responsible for
creating these gardens to please his queen of Median descent, scholars
argue that this was mistakenly applied to Babylon, and instead the gardens
were created by Sennacherib of Assyria in Nineveh. This is because no
sources contemporary with Nebuchadnezzar have been discovered
mentioning these gardens. Thus, here is a beautiful artistic depiction of the
Nineveh palaces by Austen Henry Layard [19th century Assyriologist].

Likewise, here is a reconstruction of Sennacherib’s garden at Nineveh:
Stephanie Dalley [21st century Assyriologist] summarizes and concludes:
“The Hanging Garden was built at Nineveh, not Babylon, by Sennacherib,
not Nebuchadnezzar or Semiramis. At long last specific evidence has
come to light to reveal the solution to a complex question. The correct
decipherment of a 7th century BC Assyrian inscription gives a match with
the crucial elements in descriptions of later Greek authors. Sennacherib’s
palace garden fulfils the criteria for a World Wonder: the whole project is
magnificent in conception, spectacular in engineering, and brilliant in
artistry, from the start at Khinnis through the aqueduct at Jerwan, into the
citadel at Nineveh, the garden itself, and the palace with wall sculptures
showing scenes from the garden. When in 1854 Hormuzd Rassam
excavated at Nineveh in the North Palace, he uncovered a sculpture
showing a garden with ‘a bridge having three pointed arches,’ and noted,
‘this has been identified by Assyrian scholars as a representation of the
hanging gardens of Babylon.’ He thought that the Nineveh sculpture
showing the garden was a picture of a scene in Babylon. However, this is
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a garden at Nineveh, drawn from damaged stone panels of bas–relief,
now lost, which lined the walls of a room in the South–West Palace.
The pillared walkway surmounted by trees is shown top right. Despite its
recognizable similarity to the Greek descriptions of the Hanging Garden,
there were three main reasons why nobody pursued the possibility that it
was connected directly with the World Wonder. Josephus had expressly
claimed that Nebuchadnezzar in Babylon was the builder. Besides, there
was no reason to think that Nineveh was ever known as ‘Babylon’, nor that
Sennacherib was called ‘Nebuchadnezzar’. Nineveh was supposed to have
been utterly destroyed in 612 BC; if that were the case, the palace garden
of Sennacherib would have been abandoned and neglected long before it
had a chance to enter into Greek tradition. But, the famous Hanging
Garden was said by Q. Curtius Rufus to have been so well built that it
flourished for many centuries, and since Babylon was continuously
occupied into the Islamic period, scholars could take his words at face
value: ‘Although lapse of time gradually undermines and destroys not only
works made by the hand of man, but also those of Nature herself, this huge
structure, although worked upon by the roots of so many trees and loaded

with the weight of so great a forest, endures unchanged.’ For those
reasons many people supposed the match between the Assyrian evidence
and the Greek descriptions showed that Sennacherib’s garden was a
forerunner to the real Hanging Garden built by Nebuchadnezzar in
Babylon a century and a half later. However, critical arguments in
response to this stem from the better understanding of an original Assyrian
text. The sculptured stone panel from the palace of Ashurbanipal at
Nineveh, now in the British Museum, displays other elements from those
later descriptions. The drawing made of another panel, now known as
Original Drawing IV 77, displays yet another extraordinary feature in
accord with the Greek authors. With this core of evidence, other apparent
difficulties can be resolved, leaving no doubt that the Assyrian king
Sennacherib built the garden, which he himself proclaimed as a wonder
for all peoples, in his capital city Nineveh. The concept of building a
World Wonder dates from this period, and continued into the following
rule of the great Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar II. In support of the
new understanding comes some evidence for survival at Nineveh, and the
evidence that cities other than Babylon proper could also be known as
‘Babylon’. Above all, the whole complex of palace, garden, and watering
system are self–evidently brilliant enough to qualify as a marvel, as
Sennacherib himself described them. Several scenarios could be called up
to explain the survival of knowledge and interest for 11 centuries, from
around 700 BC when Sennacherib built the garden and wrote his prism
text, to 40 AD when Philo wrote his description. Supposing the garden was
wrecked completely in 612 BC, the bronze screws melted down and their
emplacements smashed, one might posit that all the details of construction
and appearance became known to Alexander’s men in 331 BC by local
knowledge at Jerwan and Gaugamela, but with legends already
proliferating over whether an Assyrian king, or Semiramis, or
Nebuchadnezzar, was the builder. Later, during the Seleucid and early
Parthian periods when Nineveh was once again a great city and governed
by a stratēgos, the appearance of the garden was still visible on the two
bas–reliefs in the two partially ruined palaces to maintain public interest
in a vanished marvel. In this case the supposed eye–witness accounts of
Classical authors are not to be taken literally. However, it is still a
problem that knowledgeable guides would have been needed to explain
that water was raised invisibly by screws from the aqueduct to the top of
the garden, since presumably they were not to be seen on the sculptured
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panels. If several complete and more–or–less undamaged panels showing
the garden, both in the South–West Palace and in the North Palace, were
still visible in the time when Philo of Byzantium was writing, and if at that
time the Hanging Garden was no longer tended, one might have expected
some mention of the fact that it only survived in sculpture, and that one
could see only ruined remains. Such a theme would have been welcome as
a romantic topic for Greek and Latin poets, and a remarkable example of
ekphrasis. When the Roman poet Sextus Propertius mused upon the
transitory nature and deterioration of World Wonders, he did not include
the Hanging Garden. When some of the older World Wonders had been
superseded by younger marvels, as in the list of Gregory of Nazianz, the
garden was still included. Suppose, on the other hand, that the garden
survived the sack of 612 BC, that Nabopolassar was able to prevent the
robbing of the screws and damage to their emplacements, that the garden
was maintained during the Achaemenid, Seleucid, and early Parthian
periods with intermittent renovation. The two bas–reliefs in the partially
ruined palaces would also have been seen by visitors. However, by the
time of Alexander, people in Assyria could no longer read cuneiform, so
the name of the builder passed into legend. Visitors to Nineveh could
have seen screws in operation, and the roof–top trees, still alive on the
pillared walkway, would have remained a striking feature. In this case
eye–witness accounts would have been available for Classical authors. It
remains uncertain whether the machinery that lifted water to the top of the
garden could have been kept in working order, or whether it was restored
under Seleucid government. If the cast bronze screws were looted in 612
BC or shortly afterwards, the top terraces of the garden would have dried
up, leaving the colonnade with its heavy roofing carrying dead trees. Even
if they were not looted, the screws might have corroded, though it is
significant to note that the great bronze barrier of the 12th century BC
found at Susa is still in good condition in the Louvre. If Nabopolassar
managed to restrain major looting—‘an abomination to Marduk’—before
the vandals reached the garden, the screw might have persisted for
centuries with minimal maintenance, until the civic pride of the first
stratēgos put the garden once again under firm management. Was the
sturdy engineering that brought mountain water to the gardens, orchards,
and fields around Nineveh still functioning, centuries after 700 BC? The
Shallalat dam which probably belongs to that system was still in use as
recently as the 20th century, and the Jerwan aqueduct is recognizably in

place today. Even if the enemy in 612 BC had cut down trees and damaged
installations, the essential provision of abundant water was still there for
the environs of the city. Depletion of income to the city through trade, and
the tax evasion that inevitably accompanies a breakdown of law and order,
would not have stopped the water flowing even if some of the channels
were damaged or obstructed. Some temporary flooding might have
resulted, but such well–drained land is most unlikely to have been
degraded over more than a small part, and local labour could have made
repairs as necessary. Crucial was the state of the aqueduct. If it remained
undamaged or was immediately repaired, it would have ensured that the
citadel could still attract elite occupation. The lower part of the garden
with its supply of water by aqueduct would have remained viable, even if
knowledge of the screws was relegated to literary sources and to folk
memory, available to Strabo and to Philo of Byzantium. My solution
essentially began with the unearthing of that Assyrian sculpture at
Nineveh in 1854, long before I was born. From detailed articles already
published, the attribution of the Hanging Garden to Sennacherib at
Nineveh has now been accepted by many scholars. Three linked but
individual parts to the ancient wonder have been identified. One is the
garden itself, with its terraces and pavilions, conveniently set beside the
palace, and its cunningly integrated, innovative water–raising system.
Another is the complex network of watercourses—aqueducts, canals and
sluices, tunnels and dams that brought water from the mountains to the
garden on the citadel. The third is the sculptured grottoes, rock carvings,
and springs from which waters were drawn, so far distant from their
destination. That the Hanging Garden was built in Babylon by
Nebuchadnezzar the Great is a fact learned at school and can be ‘verified’
in encyclopaedias and histories of ancient times. To challenge such a
universally accepted truth might seem the height of arrogance, revisionist
scholarship at its worst. But, Assyriology is a relatively recent discipline,
and a new understanding is necessary in this instance. Of course, the old,
displaced facts cannot physically be removed from the encyclopaedias, but
even in Assyriology and ancient history, some of the facts that once
seemed secure become redundant. Compendia of knowledge serve a
wonderful purpose in collecting together the received wisdom of one
generation, but like archaeological strata, they are superseded by later
levels as time and progress move ahead, to become relics of the past,
preserving the misguided certainties and unacknowledged assumptions of
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their time. Not every aspect of the matter has yielded to investigation. How
the screw was rotated is still unknown. The location of the gardens, while
plausible, rests upon an informed guess. Speculative is the part played by
either of Sennacherib’s two successive queens, Tashmetusharrat and
Naqia. How much Sennacherib himself was the genius behind the project,
whether he (and his father) inspired a genius engineer and architect, is
unlikely ever to be revealed by any kind of ancient Mesopotamian source.
Research sometimes leads one along unexpected paths. Two
serendipitous discoveries have been Milton’s use of a Greek description of
the garden for the Garden of Eden in book IV of Paradise Lost, and
Ezekiel’s description of Assyria, equating Assyria with the garden and its
channels for watering, a garden so wonderful that it challenged God.
Sennacherib’s hubris in showing himself in the company of the great
gods at Khinnis matches Ezekiel’s accusation. Another satisfying result
has been to show how advanced Assyrian engineering was by the time
Sennacherib came to the throne. We have come a long way since 1877—23
years after the discovery of the panel in Ashurbanipal’s palace—when
Lewis Morgan attributed to Greek and Roman civilization the invention of
‘fire–baked brick ... the aqueduct and sewer ... the arch, the balance scale
... and alphabetic writing.’ All of those inventions are now generally
accepted, mainly as a result of archaeological work, to have been common
in the ancient Near East before the rise of Classical Greek civilization.
Sennacherib can now take his rightful place alongside the great emperors
of later time: Nero with his Domus Aurea, the Sun–king Louis XIV of
France with Versailles, Frederick the Great of Prussia with Sans Souci,
and Henry VIII with Nonsuch (‘unrivalled’), all great builders of palaces
who created gardens as an integral part of their overall design. Like the
other six, this Wonder really existed, and can no longer be written off as
a figment of the imagination, a legend without historical substance, nor
was the garden at Nineveh merely a precursor of the real thing. To
Sennacherib, king of Assyria, belongs the credit for creating one of the
seven Wonders of the ancient world.”
Thus, notice Ezekiel’s accuracy of Sennacherib’s palace garden when he
described Assyria as a cedar of Lebanon, with rivers flowing around the
planting and canals sent to all the other trees of the field, with roots in
abundant water [Ezekiel 31]. Sennacherib’s creation was regarded as an
illustration of excess power, outdoing Eden so as to arouse God’s jealousy.

Thus, Nebuchadnezzar would surely have wanted gardens no less
magnificent than those of the Assyrian kings whose kingdom he had
finally snuffed out, so the tradition of magnificent gardens in Babylon
should not be dismissed, because Babylon’s cultural might was apparent.
Stephen Miller [21st century biblical scholar] concludes: “Babylon was a
rectangularly shaped city surrounded by a broad and deep water–filled
moat and then by an intricate system of double walls. The first double–
wall system encompassed the main city. Its inner wall was 21 feet thick
and reinforced with defence towers at 60–foot intervals while the outer
wall was 11 feet in width and also had watchtowers. Later,
Nebuchadnezzar added another defensive double–wall system (an outer
wall 25 feet thick and an inner wall 23 feet thick) east of the Euphrates
that ran the incredible distance of 17 miles and was wide enough at the top
for chariots to pass. Herodotus claimed that the city was in the shape of a
square, each of its four walls being 14 miles long. He added that the huge
outer wall was about 85 feet wide and rose to a height of 350 feet
(Histories 1.178). However, most believe that Herodotus exaggerated
these dimensions, although he generally was reliable and accurately
reported about the moat, the double–wall system, and other details. The
height of the walls is not known, but the Ishtar Gate was 40 feet high, and
the walls would have approximated this size. A 40–foot wall would have
been a formidable barrier for enemy soldiers.”
In summary, the irony is that Nebuchadnezzar’s father left him a palace
in bad repair, so Nebuchadnezzar built a magnificent palace, complete
with cedar, cypress, painted stone, and other luxurious features. He walked
on top of the palace he envisioned and had built, and as he looked out, he
saw other projects he had completed or wished to attempt: streets, walls,
canals, gardens, temples, and a ziggurat. He built constantly, striving to
make Babylon equal or superior to Assyria and other earlier empires. His
workforce included many skilled people taken as prisoners of war. Though
treated well by the standards of the time, they were not volunteers. Instead,
they were examples of the afflicted people Daniel warned the king to treat
with mercy. Then, in v. 30, he speaks damning, self–praising words with
constant 1st person references, and he takes complete credit for all that has
been done, sharing none with his father, none with his workers, none with
his gods, and none with God. When he looks into his heart, his own
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reflection is all he sees. This theological theme of the arrogant greatness of
Babylon as a place opposed to God runs throughout the bible. It starts with
the tower of Babel [Genesis 11:1–9], whose top, like the tree in the proud
king’s dream, was in the sky [Genesis 11:4]. This theme continues through
the prophets who see Babylon as the instrument of God’s wrath against
sinful Judah and the place of their exile [Psalm 137:1; Jeremiah 20:4–5],
but who also look forward to Babylon’s downfall under God’s judgment
[Isaiah 13:19–23; 14:22–23; 47:1]. The New Testament uses Babylon as a
metaphor for Rome that similarly opposes God [1 Peter 5:13] and as the
label for the immoral capital of the beast that is destined for destruction by
God’s wrath in the last days [Revelation 14:8; 16:19; 17:5; 18:2–24].
Finally in vv. 31–33, we read: “As these words were being spoken by the
king, a voice came out of heaven: ‘King Nebuchadnezzar, this is declared
to you: ‘The kingdom has been taken from you! You’re to be driven away
from people. You’re to live with the wild animals of the field. You are to be
made to eat grass like cattle, and seven years will pass you by until you
realize that the Most High is sovereign over human kingdoms and grants
them to whomever he desires.’’ The decree was fulfilled against
Nebuchadnezzar immediately. He was driven away from people to eat
grass like cattle, and his body was drenched with dew from the sky, until
his hair grew like eagles’ feathers and his nails like birds’ claws.”
Thus, Nebuchadnezzar supposedly entered into an animalistic state. In one
sense, this state was temporal, but it was also conditional, for it would not
be lifted until he recognized that God was the true ruler over humanity and
was the one to bestow the right of ruling on whomever he wished. This
discipline upon the king was temporal, lasting for only “seven years” to
live and behave like an animal. Thus, interpretations of the king’s
animalistic transformation have tended to fall into three categories:
1. Medicalizing
Some scholars medicalize the story by diagnosing the king with
various medical illnesses, like lycanthropy, suggesting that he was
a werewolf. Edward Bouverie Pusey [19th century Anglican cleric]
is credited with popularizing it in biblical studies, being inspired by
Marcellus of Side [2nd century Greek physician], who witnessed
people “who imagined themselves changed into wolves” and names

later Greek writers who experienced similar phenomena. Pusey
also noted that because Nebuchadnezzar’s behaviour and
appearance are more cow–like than wolf–like, perhaps boanthropy
is a better description. Likewise, Robert Dick Wilson [20th century
biblical scholar] believed the lycanthropy diagnosis as accurate, but
loosely interpreted it to include animals other than wolves, and had
difficulty accepting that the condition lasted for 7 years. Thus,
James Alan Montgomery [20th century biblical scholar] concluded
that Nebuchadnezzar had a mild case of clinical lycanthropy.
Recently, André Lacocque [21st century biblical scholar] also
defended boanthropy/lycanthropy.
Ernest Lucas [21st century biblical scholar] says: “What is said
about Nebuchadnezzar’s condition here is often related to the
psychological illness known as zoanthropy, in which people think
that they have become an animal and behave accordingly.
However, the change that happened to Nebuchadnezzar is
sometimes compared with what is described as happening to the
hero in the story of Ahikar: ‘The hair on my head had grown to my
shoulders, and my beard reached my breast; and my body was
fouled with dust and my nails were grown like eagles.’ There are
also parallels with what is said of the wild, animal–like creature
Enkidu in the Epic of Gilgamesh. He is described as hairy,
unclothed, and eating grass before he became ‘civilized’ as a
human being. Therefore, the description of Nebuchadnezzar is
intended to present him as an exile from civilized human society.”
2. Historicizing
Some scholars historicize the story by trying to find its real
historical kernel, specifically by pointing to Nabonidus [not
Nebuchadnezzar] who took a leave of absence for a number of
years, laying a rough historical foundation for the king’s 7–year
animal sojourn [recorded in the Nabonidus Chronicle].
3. Contextualizing
Some scholars contextualize the story by explaining how its motifs
are paralleled with other ancient Near Eastern literature, where the
most commonly argued parallel is Enkidu in the Gilgamesh Epic.
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In other words, Enkidu’s story is the inverse of Nebuchadnezzar’s.
Instead of a civilized man arising out of nature, Nebuchadnezzar
descends from civilization into nature.
So, despite many proposals, the vast majority of scholars continue to
uncritically employ the medicalizing language, that Nebuchadnezzar’s
animal transformation was a type of mental madness. However, this
association of so–called animal madness is problematic, both for the
dangers this animalizing logic poses to real people with mental disabilities,
and for the anthropocentric hierarchy that this logic assumes, in which
humans are mentally superior to non–human animals. Instead, a more
careful reading reveals that Nebuchadnezzar’s animal transformation is not
a descent into a medicalized condition of madness. Rather, the king is
transformed into an animal in order to educate him! He receives an animal
mind so that he may know what animals ironically know: God! This is
because the Old Testament is remarkably positive toward non–human
animals and their intelligence, where the understanding of animals is often
set as an ironic foil to a lack of understanding in humans. For example,
Isaiah proclaims: “the ox knows its owner, and the donkey its master’s
feeding trough, but Israel doesn’t know, and my people don’t understand”
[Isaiah 1:3]. Jeremiah has a similar sentiment: “even the stork in the sky
knows its seasons, and the dove, the swallow, and the crane observe the
time for migration. But my people don’t know the requirements of the
Lord” [Jeremiah 8:7]. Here, animals can possess knowledge even when
humans do not. Likewise, Solomon recognized the intelligence of animals:
“four things on earth are small, but they are very, very wise: Ants aren’t a
strong species, yet they prepare their food in the summer. The rock
badgers aren’t a strong species either, yet they build their dens in the
rocks. Locusts have no king, but they all swarm in ranks. Spiders can be
caught by the hand, yet they’re found in the palaces” [Proverbs 30:24–28].
Even Job was asked by God: “who imparted wisdom to the ibis or gave the
rooster understanding?” [Job 38:36], since vv. 22–35 focuses on celestial
matters [from snow and rain to the constellations], and v. 37 also speaks of
the heavens. Thus, there is a relationship between these birds and heavenly
phenomena, because these are birds known for their wisdom or ability to
predict coming storms, and this provides a key bridge between the
inanimate [Job 38:4–38] and the animate [Job 38:39–40:20].

August Konkel [21st century biblical scholar] says: “The mention of the
ibis (tukhoth) and the rooster (sekwi) in v. 36 has been made clearer by the
discovery of a seal at Nimrod dating from the 8th century BC. The ibis as
the bird of the Egyptian god Thot is well known as announcing the
flooding of the Nile. Ancient Jewish and Christian tradition has associated
the rooster with the announcement of coming rain. This idea has been
confirmed by an 8th century seal from Calah that has an image of the
rooster with the water jars of heaven. The ibis and the rooster were
believed to have wisdom, for they predicted the coming of the rain. It is
still true that the animals have a better sense for when the rain will come
than the weather forecaster.”
Furthermore, the knowledge of animals does not merely occur with regard
to intelligence in general. Instead, many creatures have some specific
perception of God, as depicted in the nature imagery of Psalm 148:
“Hallelujah! Praise the Lord from heaven; praise him in the highest
places. Praise him, all his angels; praise him, all his armies! Praise him,
sun and moon; praise him, all you shining stars. Praise him, you heaven of
heavens, and you waters above the heavens. Let them praise the name of
the Lord, for he himself gave the command that they be created. He set
them in place to last forever and ever; he gave the command and will not
rescind it. Praise the Lord, you from the earth, you creatures of the sea
and all you depths, fire, hail, snow, fog, and wind storm that carry out his
command, mountains and every hill, fruit trees and cedars, living
creatures and livestock, insects and flying birds, earthly kings and all
peoples, nobles and all court officials of the earth, young men and young
women alike, along with older people and children. Let them praise the
name of the Lord, for his name alone is lifted up; his majesty transcends
earth and heaven. He has raised up a source of strength for his people, an
object of praise for all of his holy ones, that is, for the people of Israel who
are near him. Hallelujah!”
Likewise, in Joel, the animals cry out to God in their suffering [Joel 1:18,
20], and the prophet answers them with comfort [Joel 2:22]. This is similar
to depictions of animals crying to God for food [Psalm 104:21; Job 38:41].
In fact, animal knowledge of God appears in narrative texts as well. For
example, Balaam’s donkey “saw the angel of the Lord standing in the
way” [Numbers 22:23], so the donkey has an ability to perceive the
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supernatural even when Balaam initially did not. Again, in Jonah, when
the human inhabitants of Nineveh repent, the non–human animals are
commanded to fast and wear sackcloth with them [Jonah 3:7–8], implying
that animals were also participants in devotion to God. This is why Job
instructs us to “ask the wild animals, and they’ll teach you; the birds of the
sky will tell you. Or ask the green plants of the earth and they’ll teach you;
let the fish in the sea tell you. Who among all of these doesn’t know that
the Lord’s hand made them, and that the life of every living thing rests in
his control, along with the breath of every living human being? The ear
scrutinizes speech just as the palate tastes food.” [Job 12:7–10]
Thus, Daniel 4 does not constitute an instance of animal madness or
stupidity. Instead, the irony is that, due to Nebuchadnezzar’s blind
arrogance, he is forced to take on an animal’s mind and see from an
animal’s perspective in order to gain humble knowledge about God.
Hugh Ross [21st century astrophysicist] says: “Because my home is nestled
against the San Gabriel Mountains, wild creatures—skunks, opossums,
raccoons, hawks, and owls—sometimes show up in my yard, and many
more—deer, coyotes, bears, and bobcats—I see on the trails where I run. I
wish I had more contact with animals. As you may have noticed, people
who live in close association with animals, domesticated or wild, tend to
develop a keen awareness of how to relate to them and how to learn from
them. That goes for farmers, ranchers, herdsmen, veterinarians, trainers,
villagers, and rural folks. When Job says, ‘Ask the animals and they will
teach you,’ these people don’t scratch their heads and wonder: How?
Nonhuman animals speak without words. They teach us by allowing us to
know them and interact with them. They teach by example and illustration,
subtly at times, but never with masks. In one sense, Job and his friends
held an advantage over many of us who now read their story. They lived
closer to the nepesh. They depended on the nepesh for their daily
sustenance. They interacted with both tame and wild nepesh, and not with
just a few species, but a large and diverse mélange. Today, most of the
world’s population lives some distance, whether geographically or
otherwise, from soulish animals. Widespread urbanization has created
concrete jungles where most humans’ contact with nepesh creatures is
limited to highly bred domesticated dogs and cats (though some have
exotic pets) and a few wild animals on display in regional zoos or

preserves. To Job and his peers, God’s handiwork and divine nature
seemed voluminously and ubiquitously evident. However, most humans
today live too far from nature to notice the evidence, to ‘ask the animals’
or be taught by them. All forms of life, like glorious works of art, provide
insights into the heart of the Artist who created them. Scenes of nature’s
grandeur viewed through virtually any lens—human eye, camera,
microscope, and telescope—fill us with wonder. However, the response
that comes from observing and handling nepesh claims a category all its
own, an intensely personal one. Beauty and intricacies of design may be
resplendent in flowers and stars, but only nepesh reveal the infinite variety
and mystery of behaviours made possible by soulish, relational capacities.
We can learn from these creatures in two ways: by observing them in their
natural habitats and relationships, and by interacting with them directly.
Even the most superficial observation of animals in the wild reveals some
insight into God’s character and values. Each soulish species in its own
unique way nurtures its young and trains them for independent adult life,
whether this process takes a few weeks, as in the case of shrews, or many
years, as with elephants and whales. Each is endowed with a specific
advantage over other species in acquiring its nutritional and other
survival needs. The cheetah runs faster over short distances; the lemur
climbs with ease to reach seeds and nuts; the giraffe’s long neck and
tongue allow it to pluck leaves from thorny branches ~20 feet off the
ground; and the owl’s night vision enables it to hunt under cover of
darkness. Each has its own reproductive cycles and rituals, and those that
live in herds or social groups possess innate means of establishing order
and protecting the entire community. Each species also possesses some
specific defence mechanism(s) to protect itself from natural predators.
Whether the variety of camouflage patterns, from spots to stripes and from
subtle colours to bold, or the diversity of shapes and sizes, from tiny,
flexible frames to massive, sturdy ones—the list of variations seems almost
endless, and each seems fixed at optimal levels to ensure a species’
adaptability and longevity apart from human interference. When humans
begin to interact with these creatures, even more wonders come to light.
Almost immediately we realize how such animals respond to reward. The
more we learn about the rewards they value and enjoy, the closer our
relationships with them can grow. From scripture we learn that God
expects us to see him as our rewarder. Our faith is built on the belief that
God exists and ‘that he rewards those who earnestly seek him’ (Hebrews
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11:6). As we look to the animals, we see evidence to support both these
beliefs. The ten nepesh described in Job 38–39 represent just a sampling
of the countless ways God expresses his care for humanity through the
soulish animals. His love seems apparent both in the degree to which these
creatures are willing and able to serve us and bring us exquisite pleasure,
and also in the variety of ways they do so. The nepesh testify of God’s
extravagant generosity to us. Because they have no capacity for sin,
soulish animals can illustrate a purity of devotion we humans long for—
both to receive and to give. Tamed animals show a level of trust and
loyalty that makes us want to deserve their faith. When humans invest in
the challenges of building such trusting, loyal relationships, God reveals a
glimpse of his perfect patience, persistence, and wisdom in building a
relationship with each of us. A person who begins to comprehend the
power and love of God revealed in the soulish creatures has already taken
the first crucial step toward accepting God’s offer of relationship. The
nepesh show us that whatever ‘wildness’ in us separates us from God, God
is powerful enough, patient enough, wise enough, and caring enough to
overcome it. Human ‘wildness’ shows up in our innate tendency to go our
own way, doing what we want or what we deem best rather than what God
shows us to be right and good. Soulish animals can help us recognize the
limits of our ‘taming’ ability, limits that should engender a measure of
humility. Perhaps we humans are not so great and powerful as we often
believe ourselves to be. God reminded Job and his friends that no human
can tame either pride or speech. God alone has the power to tame them.
Only God can ‘look at all who are proud and humble them’ (Job 40:12).
James in the New Testament said, ‘No human being can tame the tongue.
It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison’ (James 3:8). When we humans
attempt to humble others, we tend to do harm in the process. We humiliate
in ways that either tear down and destroy a person or propel a person in
self–defence toward greater expressions of pride or self–exaltation. Only
God has the capacity to cause the precise internal and external
circumstances that will bring a person to appropriate humility. Only God
possesses the love and wisdom necessary to deal with human pride in a
consistently constructive manner. The same problem crops up in our
efforts to say the right thing. Job’s book makes that point with abundant
clarity. If Eliphaz, Zophar, and Bildad came to Job for the right reason, to
offer comfort and support, their words accomplished the opposite effect.
They accused Job of secret sin and wickedness. They exalted their own

virtue and wisdom over his. They deepened and prolonged Job’s suffering.
Where a lack of control does obvious damage, over–control harms people
more subtly. By clamping down on our own or others’ words, we may fail
to express or to hear what needs to be communicated. Feelings that need
to be expressed turn inward, and problems requiring attention get ignored.
The only person ever to speak with perfect timing and words was Jesus
of Nazareth. He spoke hard words and tender words, whatever the
relationship and circumstances called for. He spoke directly as needed
and in stories as needed, perfectly attuned to his hearers’ hearts and
utterly without guile. No orator the world has ever seen can compare.
Sadly, we humans have difficulty accepting our powerlessness and utter
dependency on God in these areas. Meanwhile, even the proudest animals
will trust and depend upon us once we have proven ourselves trustworthy.
Beyond showing us how we’ve run amok, nepesh also offer us valuable
lessons in how to live, lessons about serving and delighting each other,
and serving and delighting the One who cares for us and created us in his
image. Thus, developing a rewarding relationship with a soulish animal,
one in which the creature comes to us rather than cowers or flees, requires
sensitivity to that animal’s needs and consistent effort to meet those needs.
In other words, it requires building trust. The same element plays a crucial
role in successful relationships among humans, and so we do not miss this
point, God provides a striking illustration among birds. In a 2010 study of
267 bird species, four British zoologists discovered a strong correlation
between trust, as exhibited in monogamous relationships, and socially
beneficial cooperation. Although the majority of bird species are thought
to be monogamous, mating behaviour as well as levels of collaboration
differed greatly among the studied species, from one extreme to the other.
However, a significant pattern emerged. The higher the degree of mating
fidelity within a species, the greater the efficiency and complexity of
cooperative behaviour. Conversely, the higher the level of mating
promiscuity, the lower the collaboration level. The zoologists concluded
that division of labour demands a high degree of trust among the
community’s individuals, and mating behaviour helps establish that trust.
The team made one further observation that deserves mention. The species
with higher levels of fidelity and collaboration also displayed higher
survival rates and greater quality of life for individuals within the group.
If we look to the birds for instruction, as Job says, we find that God’s plan
for marriage represents more than some arbitrary moral rule or
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convention. Monogamy contributes to the productive and peaceable
division of labour that makes a high–technology global civilization
function at its best. Behind each of God’s moral laws we find practical,
beneficial reasons for obeying. Birds and mammals provide a host of life
lessons, by demonstration, to those who take the time to study. The great
horned owl, for example, sacrifices its comfort and ease to ensure that
when its hatchlings emerge, it will be able to supply them with adequate
food to survive. Canada geese show care for the weak and injured. If one
is hurt, another, usually its partner, will protect it from predatory attacks
and provide nourishment until healing is sufficient to continue their
journey. The river otter provides remarkable lessons for parents and
teachers alike. Because young otters initially fear water, the parent makes
a game of scampering through the woods with the little ones on its back.
Once the offspring get used to this game, the adult begins to slip briefly
into the water. After the little otters grow familiar with the water rides, the
adult occasionally submerges and lets its young briefly experience
floating. In this step–by–step, fun–filled way, the young otters learn to
swim. Of the many lessons humanity can learn from soulish creatures, two
stand out above the rest. First, we see that sin gets in the way of
relationship success. Just as sin diminishes our capacity to fully benefit
from our relationships with the nepesh, that same sin damages our ability
to relate to God. Second, in their example of relating to us, we see in the
nepesh our own capacity for something more, something higher, and
something beyond our own limits. That ‘something’ is not a thing at all,
but a Being, in some way like ourselves, but perfectly good. As much as
nepesh appear designed and motivated to respond to us humans and bond
with us, likewise we humans appear designed and motivated to respond to
God. In our pride, however, we handle that motivation in strange ways.
We may attempt to tame ourselves through a set of disciplines or rituals to
make us worthy of God’s care. Or, having seen or experienced examples of
that empty effort, we may decide living by our own wits brings more
momentary excitement and pleasure than living to serve and please God
ever could—at least not now. If we allow them, the nepesh can help us
recognize the folly of attempting to make our own way into God’s good
graces or of finding a temporary substitute for relationship with him.
Soulish animals shine a spotlight on humanity’s capacity for both
greatness and wretchedness, a most humbling view if we fully take it in.”

Thus, keeping in mind this positive strand of biblical thought on animals,
the king’s transformation includes changes of three types:
1. Social
Nebuchadnezzar experiences a social relocation, finding a new
home among “the animals of the field” [v. 12]. Daniel repeats this
prediction as he interprets the dream, adding that he will “be driven
from people” [v. 25]. Later, when the dream is fulfilled, a heavenly
voice reinforces this exclusion from other humans using the same
wording [vv. 31–33]. The reason for this social exclusion is to
make him “realize that the Most High is sovereign over human
kingdoms and grants them to whomever he desires” [v. 25].
2. Physiological
Nebuchadnezzar experiences a physiological change at a general
level, “his hair grew like eagles’ feathers and his nails like birds’
claws” [v. 33]. Likewise, the king’s diet shifts away from typical
human omnivorous practice to “eat grass like cattle” [v. 33].
3. Psychological
Nebuchadnezzar experiences a psychological change, as he
recounts his dream, he tells of hearing the watcher demand: “Let
his mind be changed from that of a man, and let him be given the
mind of an animal” [v. 16]. This verse is almost universally read as
a descent into madness, as a complete loss of rationality. What is
clear in this verse is that Nebuchadnezzar’s loss of his human mind
does not mean that he is left with no mind at all. Instead, this is a
substitution, not elimination. This is a replacement of one mind for
another rather than simply a removal of Nebuchadnezzar’s human
mind. Thus, the animalization here is educative rather than
disparaging. The animal mind he is given is of utmost importance,
as it will provide him with a different perspective to correct his
arrogant human mind. So, Daniel reveals to Nebuchadnezzar the
purpose behind his animal transformation: it is to educate him. He
will remain in an animal state up to the point that he gains the
appropriate knowledge of the divine: “until you realize that the
Most High is sovereign over human kingdoms and grants them to
whomever he desires” [v. 25].
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Thus, the king who thinks himself sovereign must learn that only
God is truly in charge. An understanding of the divine is precisely
what the king lacks, and it is only by seeing through animal eyes
that he will acquire knowledge of God. Thus, living as an animal
will teach him to recognize the sovereignty of God, and such
animality provides access to this divine knowledge. At the end of
Nebuchadnezzar’s time living as an animal, he proclaims, “I lifted
my eyes to heaven and my sanity returned to me” [later in v. 34].
Some scholars argue that the Aramaic manda [for “sanity”] is
understood to mean “knowledge,” implying that this is information
that he regains. However, other scholars argue that it is about his
faculty of mind/wits/senses. In other words, the 1st person pronoun
here is about a personal rationality. It was his human mind that was
replaced by an animal mind, but he did not lack rationality during
his time as an animal. Instead, he had an animal rationality. Thus,
his specific human mind was restored to him, and his time spent in
animality has served its purpose. In other words, his human mind
was taken, and he received an animal mind in order to learn, and as
he looked to heaven, demonstrating that he had in fact learned, his
human mind returned. At no point was he succumbed to madness.
Rather, his animal experience provided him with an understanding
of God he otherwise would not have known!
In summary, many scholars writing from within a Western cultural
context has long associated mental disability with animality, and given the
frequently violent treatment of non–human animals, this association places
people with mental disabilities in precarious or even dangerous situations.
Thus, those without mental disabilities should take care to avoid
problematic assumptions that reproduce this dehumanizing rhetoric.
Sunaura Taylor [21st century disability and animal rights scholar] says:
“It’s important to point out that when scholars argue that disability is
central to structuring categories of difference, they are not arguing that
disability trumps such markers of difference as race, gender, or class, but
rather that disability is mutually constitutive of various forms of
difference. In other words, ideologies of race, class, sexuality, and gender
form meanings of disability, just as disability forms meanings about
them. These categories have developed alongside one another, shaping,

impacting, and sometimes merging with each other. Disability studies
scholar Ellen Samuels makes this point well in her discussion of 19th
century anthropologists. She writes, ‘Physicians and anthropologists of the
time did not in fact distinguish between characteristics ascribed to race
and those ascribed to physical and mental ability as we do today.’ She
explains that anthropologists of the day were not analogizing differences
so much as actually ‘merging them into a flexible category of mental
immaturity and incapacity.’ Samuels’ statement is a powerful reminder
that categories that may seem distinct today have at times been
inseparable from each other. Though often overlooked, the category of
animal is also crucial to understanding this history and the frameworks
that define us. Who is human versus non–human may seem clear–cut and
uncomplicated today, but as we know all too well, at different points in
time various human populations have been identified as bestial, more
animal than human, or as missing links of evolution—classifications that
were inextricably entangled with definitions of inferiority, savagery,
sexuality, dependency, ability/disability, physical and mental difference,
and so forth. Samuels’ statement is actually in reference to the racist
anthropology that consigned Native Americans to the status of
evolutionary throwbacks, examples of a less advanced stage in human
development. Such assessments operated in tandem with claims that
intellectually disabled people were examples of a prior stage in human
evolution. Such dehumanization and animalization of race and disability
can be seen in the work of 19th century geologist J.P. Lesley, who argued
human evolution was demonstrated not only by the discovery of so–called
primitive or apelike populations (the non–Europeans), but by examining
the ‘idiots’ and ‘cretins’ of all societies. Individuals scattered all over the
world, through all the human races, with low foreheads, small brains, long
arms, thin legs, projecting, tusk–like teeth, suppressed noses, and other
marks of arrested development; to say nothing of millions of idiots and
cretins produced by the same arrest in every generation of mankind,
sustain the argument. The century prior, the 1700s, had seen the
development of Linnaean taxonomy, the system of classification of
different species that would lay the groundwork for the scientific
classification system we still use today. This system helped position
humans within nature, but it was also embedded in and representative of
racialized and gendered debates over the categorization of humans, using
assumptions about human difference to help name the boundaries
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between human and animal. Systems of species classification have relied
heavily on hierarchies that have placed humans above animals, and these
hierarchies have always been entangled with constructions of human
difference. My point here is not only to expose the importance of the figure
of the animal to histories of categorization and dehumanization, it is also
to make clear that the animal, and, consequently, the human, are
complicated categories, socially determined rather than solely
biologically. Although such historical analysis is too complex to do justice
to here, it’s important to emphasize that histories of dehumanization
invariably exposed Western understandings, assumptions, and bigotry;
understandings that were bound up with racism, ableism, and prejudice
toward animals (as can be seen in J.P. Lesley’s work). In these constructs
animals—a huge, unwieldy category that encompasses creatures as
diverse as mosquitoes, jellyfish, dogs, and orcas—are understood to be
unquestionably inferior creatures. In this anthropocentric view the world
exists for ‘man’ with animals existing completely separate from and lesser
than this pinnacle of creation. With such histories of animalization and
pathologization in mind, it’s no surprise that many people would wish to
distance themselves from both disability and animality. As much as I
recognize the drive and sometimes even the need for such distancing, I
want to challenge such impulses. As disability studies scholar Michelle
Jarman writes, ‘The very real need to challenge fallacious biological
attributes linked to race, gender, sexuality and poverty—such as physical
anomaly, psychological instability, or intellectual inferiority—has often
left stigma around disability unchallenged.’ In many ways a similar thing
could be said of animality: that there has been an urgent need among
dehumanized populations (including disabled people) to challenge
animalization and claim humanity. As urgent and understandable as these
challenges are, it is important to ask how we can reconcile the brutal
reality of human animalization with the concurrent need to challenge the
devaluing of animals and even acknowledge our own animality.”
Thus, if the lives and well–being of non–human animals truly matter, then
any dehumanizing perspective founded upon viewing animals pejoratively
should lose its rhetorical force. As a result, there is much to be gained from
re–examining how we see non–human animals, and the bible can help us
with such a re–examination, specifically when Daniel 4 coheres well with
recent discoveries in non–human animal cognition and behaviour.

Jared Beverly [21st century biblical scholar] concludes: “The so–called
‘madness’ of King Nebuchadnezzar is anything but. This medicalizing
characterization associates mental disability with animality, and
considering the ways Western societies often treats animals, this
association is a dangerous one. Instead, the story of Nebuchadnezzar’s
animal transformation relies on one of the Old Testament’s various
perspectives, the particular one in which non–human animals are
intelligent and have knowledge of the divine. By becoming an animal,
Nebuchadnezzar can tap into this knowledge and repair his human
arrogance. Perhaps these ancient texts can pose a challenge to us today in
our own relations with non–humans.”
Thus, this context crucially dovetails into the Achaemenid–era visual
image of the Heroic Encounter. In other words, this visual motif of
Nebuchadnezzar being “driven away from people to eat grass like cattle”
and that “his body was drenched with dew from the sky, until his hair grew
like eagles’ feathers and his nails like birds’ claws” instead depicts a
heroic figure controlling or engaging in combat with a variety of animals
[including hybrid creatures], and in light of this visual motif from the
immediate socio–historical context, this image of an animalistic
Nebuchadnezzar is resistant to aspects of Achaemenid imperial ideology,
that the true hero is ultimately God rather than any Persian king or deity!
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Furthermore, since explanations of this imagery as a mental illness are
unlikely [as well as the unsatisfactory explanation that this imagery
conveys a subhuman status], the Achaemenid–era iconographic motif of
the Heroic Encounter provides vital data from Daniel’s historical context,
especially if Daniel’s book was written in the 6th century b.c. Thus, there
are three approaches to interpreting the biblical texts with iconography:
1. The Iconographic–Artistic Approach
This is concerned with interpreting images in their artistic contexts.
Each ancient Near Eastern artistic motif can convey different
meanings depending on the contexts in which it is found. This
approach puts an emphasis on the context of an image and its
multiple interpretations based on its geographic and historical
setting. In employing this approach for biblical studies, the scholar
begins with ancient Near Eastern images, first describing them
chronologically, then linking them to biblical texts based on
similarities. This brings up the question of influence: how does one
know whether an Early Bronze image or motif from Egypt was
known by the biblical authors? Here the general principle of
proximity should be considered: the more an image is
geographically and historically proximate to Israel, the greater its
likelihood of influence. The scholar also cannot avoid discussions
of dating biblical texts, giving preference to images from a similar
era. However, this cannot be applied in a strict way when
considering geographic and historical proximity. In other words,
iconographic approaches must consider that cultural affinity can
sometimes be detected between separated groups, and we should
not exclude the possibility that Israel may have had more cultural
influence from Egypt than Ugarit during some periods [which
would be reflected both in art as well as in the biblical text]. For
example, in Amos 1:2, the Hebrew verb shaʾag [for “roars”] was
typically associated with lions, and here it is applied to God. But, a
modern reader may conclude [based on modern notions of lions]
that God is brave or courageous. However, on studying images of
lions in their ancient Near Eastern context, the ancient hearer
would have judged that God is dangerous and terrifying. Thus, the
iconographic–artistic approach can uncover indigenous categories
of meaning for biblical images or metaphors.

2. The Iconographic–Historical Approach
This employs iconography for the reconstruction of ancient Near
Eastern history and cultural phenomena. This approach is valuable
for those who want to understand the religion of Israel in their
ancient context [from 1800 b.c. to 450 b.c.] using iconography.
3. The Iconographic–Biblical Approach
This employs iconography for interpreting the bible’s literary
imagery and figurative language. This approach begins with a
biblical text, metaphor, theme, or word–image, and discusses
iconographic contributions to its interpretation. These contributions
begin with the archaeological record of Israel, and expand to
similar imagery in the wider ancient Near East.
Joel LeMon [21st century ancient Near Eastern scholar] summarizes:
“Ancient art, or iconography, is an important resource for scholars
exploring the cultural milieu from which the bible emerged. Indeed, many
scholars consider the images from the ancient world at least as valuable
for understanding the historical background of the bible as ancient textual
sources. Methods for appropriating such iconographic material within
biblical studies have been developing gradually, with the most important
advances coming since the 1970s. Today, while scholars generally affirm
the increased attention paid to iconography, there remains a degree of
uncertainty about the best methods for interpreting biblical texts in light
of ancient art. The impulse to use ancient art to illuminate biblical texts is
not new. Beginning in the 19th century, with the rise of the great
archaeological collections in Paris, London, Turin, and Berlin, art from
the ancient world captivated scholars and laypeople alike. Generally,
these interpreters assumed that this ancient pictorial material provided
illustrations of the bible or other ancient Near Eastern literature, similar
to the ways in which ‘biblical art’ illustrates characters and stories from
the bible. The subjects in both biblical art and ancient iconography were
thought to be based on texts; or art refers straightforwardly to literature.”
So, recent scholarship adopting these approaches have finally
demonstrated how biblical texts from the Persian period [including
portions of Isaiah, Zechariah, Nehemiah, and Chronicles] either utilized or
evoked Achaemenid imperial iconography and art.
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Margaret Cool Root [21st century ancient Near Eastern scholar] confirms:
“The last 20 years have witnessed great scholarly advancement of our
knowledge about Achaemenid Persian art in the dynastic heartland of
southwest Iran. The impact of this art upon the cultures under imperial
control is, however, largely an undeveloped topic. One overview of the
material evidence provides an indispensible step in the right direction.
Specifically regarding the impact of Persian rule in Israel, major efforts
now enable us to begin an evaluation of the penetration of Achaemenid
art. Analytical studies are moving in the direction of seeing far greater
Persian artistic impact in the provincial regions than was once thought,
and some scholars are making significant advances in correlating
occurrences of strong artistic influence from Persia with specific historical
events and political climates within the 200–year span of the empire. As
we are told in the book of Esther, decrees of the Persian king were sent out
far and wide, translated into the languages of specific localities. We learn
the same from Darius’ own words at Behistun. The discovery that an
Aramaic version of the Behistun text from Elephantine in Egypt
incorporates segments drawn from Darius’ tomb text as well enhances our
appreciation of the availability of material originally created in the
heartland. Now we know that the Behistun relief of Darius was copied
for Babylon along with the text. Official Persian art was designed for
widespread dissemination and message conveyance, just as the official
decrees were. From the imperial coinage emblazoned with imagery of the
king–as–archer to the grandiose metaphorical displays on the
architectural facades of Persepolis, the overarching message is one of a
world under control. The pervasive image of kingship stresses dynastic
identity rather than personal idiosyncracy. The pervasive image of
imperial domain and social hierarchy stresses cooperative—even joyous—
service and the virtues of blamelessness.”
Thus, bringing this motif of the Heroic Encounter into v. 33 reveals how
Daniel’s image of an animalistic Nebuchadnezzar utilizes aspects of
Achaemenid imperial iconography, where for the king to become like an
animalistic creature is to become like those the hero typically controls. In
other words, the animalistic imagery in v. 33 conveys Nebuchadnezzar’s
subordination to God [the true hero]. So, although Nebuchadnezzar
remains a human during the ordeal, he is nevertheless described with
bovine and avian features, which amounts to a hybrid animalistic creature.

In fact, the mentioning of animals earlier in the passage provides a vital
clue to deciphering the significance of v. 33. Notice that in
Nebuchadnezzar’s dream of the cosmic tree, the “animals of the field
found shade under it, the birds of the sky lived in its branches, and every
creature was fed from it” [v. 12]. The text mentions these animals when
the tree is cut down. The living creatures of the field and the birds flee as
they no longer have safety in the tree [v. 14]. Daniel does not interpret the
thinly veiled symbolism of these animals, but their significance becomes
clear when he identifies the tree as the king’s mighty and expansive
empire: the animals are people and nations subordinate to and dominated
by the king. Thus, the image of a hybrid animalistic king combines
elements of such naturally occurring animals to form a liminal being.
When Nebuchadnezzar himself eats grass like a bull and his hair and nails
appear like birds [v. 33], the passage indicates a point of reference for
deciphering such imagery. In other words, the text utilizes the term “bird”
to describe some of the animals taking refuge in the tree [v. 12], and
Nebuchadnezzar himself [v. 33].
Choon–Leong Seow [21st century ancient Near Eastern scholar] says:
“Befitting a dream, the sequence defies logic. One moment the subject is a
tree (v. 15), but the next moment it is a fettered animal (v. 15), and then it
is a human being with the mind of an animal (v. 16). Yet, as in a fantastic
dream, portentous coherence prevails despite the rapid shifting of
images. The tree that used to provide shade and food for animals of the
field is now no longer able to provide. Instead, it has become a needy
animal of the field, pitifully tethered and utterly dependent on others for its
welfare. Significantly, provision comes not from any earthly source, but
from heaven. Whereas animals had previously found shade under the tree
that seemed at first blush to be a cosmic one, this animal is now amazingly
drenched—the Aramaic means, literally, ‘dipped’—in dew from heaven.
The similarity of the Aramaic words for ‘dew’ (ṭl) and ‘shade’ (ṭll)
ironically underscores the difference in the scenarios in a way that
makes sense only in dreams and fantasies. The tree that had been at the
center of the earth and that provided for animals of the earth is now a
tethered animal that receives its provisions from heaven (v. 15).”
Thus, in the immediate textual context, animals signify political beings,
specifically subordinated peoples in an imperial hierarchy of domination.
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So, when Daniel deploys animalistic imagery again at the point where
God’s control of Nebuchadnezzar appears most tangible, it aligns closely
with the usage of such imagery earlier in the passage. This means an image
of an animalistic Nebuchadnezzar conveys his subordination to God, and
is a clear portrayal of God’s sovereignty over all human rulers! In fact, the
king echoes this point as he concludes: “no one can hold back his power or
say to him, ‘what did you do?’” [later in v. 35]. This is because the king
describes his encounter with God as a hybrid animalistic creature to
communicate the inescapable power of God’s hand! Furthermore, because
of this, the king explains what his experience has taught him about God:
“for everything he does is true, his ways are just, and he is able to humble
those who walk in pride” [later in v. 37]. As Nebuchadnezzar accounts for
his time as an animalistic creature, he describes it as one in which he has
become cognizant of the extent of God’s control of him and his own
subordination to God. Thus, appearing and acting like a hybrid animalistic
creature constitutes Nebuchadnezzar’s experiential learning encounter in
which he becomes aware of the sovereignty of God and of his own
subordination to God. This fits directly into the Heroic Encounter motif in
various forms of Achaemenid–era iconography, because this contains
critical evidence from the immediate socio–historical context for
understanding Daniel’s image of a hybrid animalistic king. Scholars
describe the first variant of this visual motif as the “control encounter,”
which depicts a heroic figure dominating two hybrid creatures to his body.
For example, on this 503/502 b.c. cylinder seal from the Persepolis
Fortification Tablet archive, the hero is depicted as grasping the horns of
two winged–bull creatures, but without any weapons against the creatures.
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However, the second variant of this visual motif is described as the
“combat encounter,” where the hero stabs a hybrid creature with a
weapon. For example, on this 500 b.c. cylinder seal, in addition to
grasping the hybrid creature by its horn, the hero attacks with a weapon.
Also, in addition to featuring prominently in monumental imagery, this
motif exists on numerous seals and coinage, which were highly mobile,
and of the 312 seals from Persepolis that feature this Heroic Encounter,
111 are the “combat encounter” variant. As with monumental examples,
below are seals from Persepolis that depict the hero engaging diverse
creatures in combat, whether it is a lion [top] or a hybrid creature [bottom]
incorporating other diverse animal elements [like wings or a human head].

This motif also occurs in

doorways at Persepolis, where
the hero engages with a hybrid
animalistic creature containing
elements of a bull [horns], a lion
[body, mane, and forelegs], and
a bird [wings, rear legs, feet, and
talons that touch the hero’s
shin]. There are other instances
where the hero contends with
naturally occurring animals [like
bulls and lions], and this
represents notions of triumphant
defence within the practical
world of empire maintenance,
graphically depicting the hero as
violently stabbing when fighting
or subduing the hybrid animal.

Other mobile iconographic forms
like stamp seals and coins from
the southern Levant [and some of
the bullae from the Samaria Papyri
found at Wadi Daliyeh], show that
this motif was important to the
central portions of the Persian
Empire and is attested within
provinces like Yehud and
Samaria. Thus, this theme of
heroic combat was understood as a
powerful visual metaphor for
Achaemenid kingship and Persian
imperial ideology in Samaria.
So, what is the hero’s identity? What is the significance of the motif?
Some scholars suggest that the hero in monumental iconography should be
equated with the Persian king, but other scholars argue that the hero does
not correspond to the Persian king in a simplistic one–to–one fashion,
because the heroes often lack royal features.
Mark Garrison [21st century ancient Near Eastern scholar] further explains:
“The monumental sculptures do not depict the hero as a king in
ceremonial regalia, nor do they depict a figure dressed for active battle (in
the Iranian riding habit). The hero in the monumental representations
never wears a crown, nor does he wear the smooth royal shoes that are a
consistent feature in explicit sculptural representations of the king in
ceremonial guise, and although the hero wears a Persian court robe
(rather than battle garb that might hint at a direct metaphorical link
between heroic combatant and brave warrior), he does bare well–muscled
arms in a flash of non–hieratic charisma that departs dramatically from
the static visions of explicit kingship monumentally portrayed elsewhere.
Margaret Cool Root has postulated that the heroic combatant of the
official sculptural program represents the specific ideological construct of
a ‘Persian Man,’ as articulated in several monumental inscriptions
alluding metaphorically to the far–flung military power of the Achaemenid
Empire. In this case, the hero of Achaemenid monumental art could be
read as a generic figure symbolizing the collective force of Persian
208
power. It is possible, furthermore, that there were cultural taboos in the
Iranian tradition of kingship that inhibited explicit depictions of the king in
any position of potential vulnerability. It may even be that ideologies of
kingship actually inhibited the direct intervention of the Persian king in
dangerous battle situations—not because the king was cowardly, but
because the king was in a sense a sacred entity that could not be put at
risk. This may help explain the importance of rendering the monumental
hero figures with ambiguous identity: kingly but not precisely the king and
able to be contemplated as a flexible entity with which every person of
Persian identification could associate himself. It is important to consider
that the capacity of an individual to identify with the Persianness of the
‘Persian Man’ may not have been limited to those of Persian blood lineage
in this imperial context. Herein may lie a key to the extraordinary
prevalence of the hero motif in the Achaemenid glyptic repertoire. The
calculated ambiguity of the imagery at the highest levels of monumental
art may reflect a deliberately exploited mechanism of social incorporation
in an arena where many metaphors for social harmony and cooperative
enterprise were systematically deployed. The very fact of the ancientness
of the heroic vision in one form or another in western Asia guaranteed its
receptivity, its capacity to capture the imaginations of diverse
constituencies. The opportunity offered by the Achaemenid ideology of
the ‘Persian Man’ for broad ownership of the hero role further
guaranteed the appeal of the imagery.”
An example of the hero as the visual equivalent of the literary motif of the
“Persian man” comes from the tomb inscription of Darius I [522–486 b.c.]
at Naqš–i Rustam: “If now you should think: ‘How many are the countries
which King Darius held?’ look at the sculptures of those who bear the
throne, then shall you know, then shall it become known to you: the spear
of the Persian man has gone forth far; then shall it become known to you:
the Persian man has delivered battle far indeed from Persia.”
So, connecting the hero with the literary motif of the Persian man, the hero
amounts to a generic figure symbolizing the collective force of Persian
power and that the generic quality of the hero provided many people [not
just the king and not just the Persians] with an opportunity to identify with
the hero and the empire, a flexibility that would also account for its
ubiquity in the mobile iconographic forms [such as cylinder seals].
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Although the control variant lacks the violence of the combat variant, the Persepolis. In other words, out of the 201 images depicting heroic control,
control variant occurs more frequently in the seals from Persepolis [where 22 depict the hero as a hybrid human–animal, and out of the 111 images
201 out of 312 seals utilize the control variant], while also reflecting depicting heroic combat, 14 depict the hero as a hybrid human–animal.
considerable diversity in terms of the type of animalistic creature that the
hero controls. For example, the hero controls naturally occurring animals,
such as a lion/bull, but in other cylinder seals the hero controls an
assortment of hybrid creatures that combine various features [such as a
winged lion/bull with a human head]. Thus, just as in the combat motif,
hybrid creatures are typically what the hero controls.

Mark Garrison [21st century ancient Near Eastern scholar] continues:

Curiously, while the hero is typically a human figure, there are a few “Themes of heroic control poses the same questions of identity of the hero
instances in which the hero also appears as a hybrid human creature! There (and the beings with which he engages). The control encounter refers to
are 36 instances of a hybrid hero out of the 312 cylinder seals from balanced compositions in which a hero deals with two animals or

creatures; the combat encounter refers to compositions in which a hero’s
attention is directed toward the stabbing or threatening of one animal or
creature. Generally speaking, the control encounter suggests a hieratic
equilibrium—a balancing of forces—that is really quite different from
the combat encounter, with its suggestion of aggression either held at
bay or actively thwarted through the imminent or realized smiting of the
hero’s antagonist. One recent attempt to understand encoded religious
symbolism in the motif of heroic encounter has suggested that the hero
figure in these images represents the god Bal. This theory has been subject
to critique for possibly pressing the limited evidence too far. Yet such
interpretive forays, as well as the learned responses they provoke, alert us
to important possibilities in this multi–cultural context. The same could be
said for Root’s discussion of the possible relation of some Achaemenid
images of heroic control of wild beasts to the notion of the ‘blameless
one,’ emphasized as a personal value in Darius’s eloquent tomb
inscription at Naqsh–i Rustam nearby Persepolis and reiterated in the
biblical story of Daniel in the Lion’s Den. As the biblical tradition
transmits it, Daniel’s blamelessness, rectitude, and right–minded attitude
toward the Achaemenid king was demonstrated by his miraculous capacity
to pacify wild beasts. The numinous equilibrium Daniel achieved with the
beasts, as described in the biblical passage, is suggestive of the aura of
many Achaemenid seals of heroic control, where the grasp of the hero is
more dance–like, more charmed than aggressive. In a similar vein,
Yahweh’s reference to his interactions with a variety of beasts in the book
of Job has been seen as an affirmation that the image of heroic control, or
mastery, of beasts had acquired a particular spiritual overlay among Jews.
A group of Achaemenid–period seals combining a heroic encounter with a
scene of Neo–Babylonian–type worship before an altar presents
interesting analytical possibilities that deserve further study in an attempt
to fathom possible syncretistic meanings embedded in the motif.”
Thus, both motifs of the Heroic Encounter depict the hero as dominant,
whether in an explicit act of violence against a creature [as in the combat
motif], or through the hero’s ability to hold the creatures in place [as in the
control motif]. Whether to create, defend, or maintain the balance of the
empire, the Heroic Encounter was a visual image of the power of the
Achaemenid Empire. They were significant visual depictions of the
mastering of chaos and the ordering of the world.
210
Thus, notice that the central component of this visual imagery is that
hybrid creatures are typically subordinate to a more powerful being. So,
this shows that v. 33 appears simultaneously rooted in and resistant to
Achaemenid imperial ideology attested in the Heroic Encounter motif
while pursuing its own agenda of portraying God as sovereign over all.
This is seen in the fact that the iconographic record provides various
examples that depict a hero contending with a hybrid creature composed of
elements of the same animals that v. 33 uses to describe Nebuchadnezzar
[human, ox/bull, and birds]. Furthermore, the hybrid creatures have
combined bovid and avian elements [due to the hair and distinctive feet
with talons] which appear similar to Nebuchadnezzar, and the congruence
between v. 33 and various instances of the Heroic Encounter motif also
extends to the ideological ends to which each utilizes such imagery. In
other words, in the visual syntax and lexicon of the Heroic Encounter
motif, the more powerful hero dominates/controls the hybrid creatures. In
this case, animalistic imagery suggests being defeated/controlled, a point
that holds true for both the control variant and the combat variant, even as
each has unique implications for exploring socio–political realities of
domination and subordination in an Achaemenid imperial landscape. Thus,
this sort of ideological use of animalistic imagery aligns with the textual
polemics used in Daniel 4, that if Nebuchadnezzar became like a hybrid
creature, then he became like something dominated/controlled.
Nevertheless, even though v. 33 appears rooted in some of the specific
conventions of the Heroic Encounter motif, there are some important
differences that help illumine the significance of Daniel’s imagery. So,
while Daniel 4 shows violent imagery against Nebuchadnezzar, where the
tree is cut down and has its branches lopped off [v. 14], which might
appear to evoke the combat variant, by the time the text depicts the king as
a hybrid animalistic creature, such violence has dissipated. Notice that God
does not hold a weapon to threaten or kill the king. Instead, Daniel
emphasizes God’s dominance over Nebuchadnezzar, rather than killing
him, which resonates with the control variant of the Heroic Encounter
motif. However, notice that God does not reach out his hand to hold the
king in place. Instead, God’s decree, delivered through his divine council,
and interpreted by Daniel, is equivalent to the hero reaching out his hand
to control a creature [like the animalistic Nebuchadnezzar]. Thus, the real
hero, from the perspective of Daniel, has such power that controlling a
mighty king like Nebuchadnezzar need not even require extending a hand!

In other words, that the real hero is God, rather than a Persian man like the
king or his god, v. 33 is deliberately resistant to the very ideology of the
Heroic Encounter motif that it simultaneously evokes! Thus, Daniel
creates a hierarchical ruling structure wherein Nebuchadnezzar’s
sovereignty depends on what God permits in his greater sovereignty.
Brian Charles DiPalma [21st century biblical scholar] concludes: “Scholars
have often pointed to instances of biblical texts utilizing or being
influenced by the literary genres or motifs of neighbouring cultures. In her
recent commentary on Daniel, Newsom points to precisely this reality to
explain the complex negotiations at work in the stories: ‘the colonized
often make use of intellectual and literary forms developed by the
dominant culture but do not simply appropriate them.’ Thus, the
colonized in Daniel 4 engage not just the literary forms of the dominant
culture, but their visual material as well, a point that iconographic
biblical scholarship continues to advance. Whether the Persian period
will prove unique in relation to other periods of ancient Israelite and
Judean history (in the extent to which biblical texts from this time period
allude or respond to imperial art) remains to be seen. Indeed, Root’s
proposal of a connection between the story of Daniel surviving the lion’s
den (Daniel 6) and the control version of the Heroic Encounter motif
merits reconsideration, though that story emphasizes God’s protection of
Daniel rather than Daniel’s ability to protect himself by holding the lions
at bay. By showing how Daniel 4:33 utilizes hybrid animalistic imagery
attested in the Heroic Encounter motif and the ideological symbolism
associated with such imagery in ways that simultaneously resonate with
and challenge Achaemenid imperial ideology, recent scholarship adds
another example of that phenomenon, clarifies the significance of Daniel’s
image of an animalistic Nebuchadnezzar, and demonstrates the
methodological fruits of turning to visual imagery from the ancient
world in seeking to understand biblical literature.”
8) What happened when Nebuchadnezzar was restored? (4:34–37)
Starting with vv. 34–36, we read: “When that period of time was over, I,
Nebuchadnezzar, lifted my eyes to heaven and my sanity returned to me. I
blessed the Most High, praising and honouring the one who lives forever:
For his sovereignty is eternal, and his kingdom continues from generation
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to generation. All who live on the earth are nothing compared to him. He
does what he wishes with the heavenly armies and with those who live on
earth. No one can hold back his power or say to him, ‘What did you do?’
At that moment I recovered my sanity, and my honour and majesty
returned to me, for the sake of my kingdom. My advisors and officials
sought me out, my throne was restored, and even more greatness than I
had before was added to me.”
Beginning with v. 34, the account is expressed in the 1st person. Despite
the humiliation he endured and the so–called deranged mind he
experienced, Nebuchadnezzar still retained a measure of sanity: “I lifted
my eyes to heaven.” The emphasis is not upon the direction of his glance
but upon the change of heart by the king. This would imply that he humbly
sought God, and in light of the stipulations in v. 32, he did indeed
acknowledge God as ruler over human governments and the one who
decides on those who are to rule on earth. Thus, because of this, he says:
“my sanity returned to me.” Consequently, the king’s praise for God is
recorded in vv. 34–35. Notice that the text does not merely say he thanked
God. His response is much deeper than that. It tells us that he extolled,
praised, and glorified him. These speak of a transformed and redeemed
heart. Thus, Nebuchadnezzar himself became a true believer in the same
God as Daniel and will one day stand with Daniel in God’s kingdom that
will be given to Jesus. When Nebuchadnezzar said, “his sovereignty is
eternal, and his kingdom continues from generation to generation,” he was
confessing how temporal his own kingdom was in light of God’s eternal
rule. He no longer saw himself as the one having “might and power” who
acted “for the sake of my majesty” [v. 30]. Rather, he and all inhabitants of
the earth were as nothing in comparison to God [Isaiah 40:17], because
God is absolutely sovereign. This is true “with the heavenly armies and
with those who live on earth.” Furthermore, Nebuchadnezzar confessed
that no one could “hold back his power” or even had the right to question
God in what he does. In a Babylonian document from ~1200 b.c. called
Ludlul Bēl Nēmeqi [or “I will praise the Lord of Wisdom” = Marduk], there
is an opening line reminiscent of v. 35: “whose hands the heavens cannot
hold back.” Scholars note the remarkable similarities the document has
with Daniel 4, suggesting that Nebuchadnezzar [who would have likely
known about such hymns to his god] might have borrowed from its literary
pattern to communicate to his people what he had learned from God.

Paul Ferguson [21st century biblical scholar] says: “Daniel 4 purports to be
the actual words of Nebuchadnezzar except for vv. 28–33. It begins with a
hymn of praise (vv. 1–3) and closes with a hymn of praise (vv. 34–37). Its
opening style is that of an epistle. It is conceded even by critics that the
introduction is compatible with that of Neo–Babylonian and later epistles.
Many have found it incredible that the king would issue such a document.
Montgomery says that ‘as an edict the document is historically absurd; it
has no similar parallels in the history of imperial edicts.’ While it is true
that there are no ‘edicts’ like Daniel 4, it is also true that the chapter does
not claim to be an edict. It is, however, incorrect to say that Daniel 4 has
no matching genre in Babylonian literature. There is a Babylonian
document called Ludlul Bēl Nēmeqi (‘I will praise the Lord of Wisdom’).
This document shows a good deal of similarity to Daniel 4. The piece had
a broad distribution in the ancient Near East judging from the fact that 25
copies and fragments of it have survived. It dates from about 1200 BC.
Lambert has even found an instance where it is quoted in a Neo–
Babylonian royal inscription. It is often referred to as the ‘Babylonian
Job.’ Oppenheim and Lambert do not see this work as the same genre as
Job but rather as a psalm. The text is a ‘monologue of a well read and
poetic Babylonian in a high position.’ Lambert conjectures that he may
have been a feudal lord ruling a city. Like Daniel 4 it opens and closes
with a doxology and confession of the deity’s sovereignty to show mercy or
judgment. It also contains affirmations of his god’s universal kingship
(I.1–40; IV.33–45). An opening line—‘whose hands the heavens cannot
hold back’ (I.9, 11, 27–32)—is reminiscent of v. 35: ‘He does according to
his will in the host of heaven; no one can ward off his hand.’ As in Daniel
4, the speaker announces his intention to provide people with instruction
in worship and to present his situation as a public example of his god’s
ability to punish and restore (I.39–40; IV.27–46). The person’s situation is
associated with a terrifying dream, as in v. 5. The author repeatedly
stresses that four classes of dream interpreters and omen experts could not
help him (II.7–10, 106–110; cf. vv. 6–7). This unfortunate individual, like
Nebuchadnezzar, used to walk like a proud man constantly prattling. He
was put out of his house and had to wander outside like a recluse and an
ox. He lost his position of authority and was replaced by someone else
(I.50–104; II.21). He was like one who had gone crazy. He was fettered.
His fingernails grew out. As in the case of Nebuchadnezzar, the same god
who struck him down now raised him up. After his restoration he proceeds
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down ‘Bow Down, Proud One’ saying ‘He who has done wrong let him
learn from me’ (IV.9–10; III.n–p). Like Nebuchadnezzar in v. 2, he wanted
to make known to all people what his god had done for him. As a well–
informed worshiper of Marduk, Nebuchadnezzar would have known about
various hymns written to his god. It is not unthinkable that he might have
borrowed an old, time–honoured pattern to communicate to his
countrymen the testimony of his lesson in divine sovereignty. In one of
his inscriptions he describes himself as causing ‘to exist in the mouths of
men the fear of the great gods.’”
Thus, in regard to his kingly glory, his majesty and splendour returned to
him [v. 36]. Furthermore, his ministers and nobles began seeking him out
again. During the 7 years that the king was incapacitated, most officials
obviously did not meet with the king to discuss state matters. Now that his
sanity was restored, he could once again meet with them and discuss
official affairs, and Nebuchadnezzar closes by pointing out that: “even
more greatness than I had before was added to me.” This is reminiscent of
Job’s experience [Job 42:12]. This also teaches us something very
important about the grace and the goodness of God. He is incredibly
enthusiastic about bestowing grace. Yes, he may discipline us and take us
through fiery trials that he deems necessary, but in the end he longs to
shower us with tokens of his goodness [Psalm 34:8]. Even
Nebuchadnezzar discovered this truth about God. Although we do not
know at what point in his reign these events happened, it is worth pointing
out that Nebuchadnezzar reigned for 43 years [605–562 b.c.]. He must
have had quite a few years left after his humbling in order for there to have
been enough time to have experienced “even more greatness.”
Finally in v. 37, we read: “In conclusion, I, Nebuchadnezzar, praise, exalt,
and give glory to the King of heaven: For everything he does is true, his
ways are just, and he is able to humble those who walk in pride.”
This last verse is a touching finale to the difficult lesson that the king had
to learn. In saying that he praised, exalted, and glorified “the King of
heaven,” Nebuchadnezzar made clear that he had learned who the true
king was: Yahweh. Furthermore, he confessed that he had learned the
main lesson: “he is able to humble those who walk in pride.” Daniel does
not simply teach that pride is wrong, but that God humbles the proud.

Eugene Carpenter [21st century biblical scholar] concludes: “Daniel’s
admonition and warning went unheeded. Within a year, disastrous things
happened to the Babylonian king. He had built the famous Ishtar Gate, his
royal palaces, the hanging gardens, and much more, and he was still
prospering when he laid claim to it all as a work of his ‘own mighty
power,’ and he arrogantly suggested that the city had been built by him to
display his own ‘majestic splendor’ (v. 30). The builders of the tower of
Babel, Pharaoh, and Nebuchadnezzar are infamous Old Testament
examples of ‘pride goes before a fall.’ In all cases God judged these
humans and their divine–like claims at the peak of their splendour. In
Nebuchadnezzar’s case, God sent down a watcher who carefully observed
his actions and attitudes and announced God’s rejection of him and his
claims (vv. 13, 23, 31; cf. Genesis 11:1–9). Pharaoh Hophra (589–570
BC) nearly matched Nebuchadnezzar in his arrogant boasting (Ezekiel
29:3, 8–10), declaring that ‘the Nile River is mine; I made it for myself.’
Accordingly, both rulers fell. Hophra was given over to Babylon (Jeremiah
44:29–30). Then vv. 31–33 reiterate what has already been given (vv. 13–
16, 24–26), where v. 33 adds the ghastly description of the hideous
judgment to which Nebuchadnezzar was subjected. The heart and mind (v.
16) of an animal was accompanied by appropriate physical manifestations
of animal physiognomy. This treatment of the head of gold in Daniel 2–3
may signal what is coming in Daniel 7 and the true vicious nature of this
empire. For there, the kingdom of Babylon is represented by a beast,
namely, a lion. But, here the king is given the mind of a beast, and there
the beast is given a human mind (Daniel 7:4) and made to stand up on
two legs like a human being. In both descriptions, aquiline features are a
part of the symbolism. Is the human mind given to the beast (in Daniel 7:4)
an indication that Nebuchadnezzar regained his sanity and lived out his
reign as a humble human, ruling over his kingdom with human
sensibilities, as v. 37 would seem to indicate? The paean of praise and
confession closing the chapter (vv. 34–37) matches the first three verses of
this chapter (vv. 1–3), forming an inclusio. The exact amount of time
indicated by ‘seven periods of time’ (vv. 16, 25) is not made more specific
even at the end of the story, but it is ironic that the king who sent Israel
into exile for 7 × 10 years = 70 years was made to experience his own
exile from humanity of ‘seven periods’ of time until he was purified from
his pride. During this time and after gaining his sanity, the king realized
some things about the Most High. He undoubtedly learned much about
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himself in light of the God whom he encountered. He found that God ‘lives
forever’ and rules forever over an eternal kingdom (vv. 36–37). His own
immortality and the fleeting nature of his rulership and own kingdom
became a reality to him, for they had been taken from him in a moment of
time, at the height of his arrogance. Although all the peoples of the earth
had depended upon the king and his kingdom, they were of little
significance before the Most High God. The dependence of the nations
upon the king did not make him a god, nor give him the right to oppress
the poor, to live in sin, and to pursue iniquity. He learned that the Most
High controls not only those on earth (v. 35), but the angels of heaven as
well, who do his bidding, serving as his messengers (vv. 13, 17, 23). He
had preferred not to listen to Daniel’s sage advice and admonition,
insisting upon his own way (vv. 27–30) and refusing to believe that the
Most High would or could stop his rulership, even though he was sinning.
Not only the destructive and disciplinary aspects of God’s prophetic
message were fulfilled, but God’s intention to bring back the king and
restore his honour and glory and kingdom was duly fulfilled (v. 36). God’s
desired effect was reached; Nebuchadnezzar learned that God is in
charge. In the end, the king confessed that God’s acts are ‘just and true’
(v. 37). God could ‘bring low’ those who live in pride: the king was given
the mind of an animal, and made to eat grass like the oxen. Human pride
has no place, even among great kings, before the King of heaven.”
Summing Up …
Nebuchadnezzar praised God for his works [recall Daniel 2:47–48; 3:26–
29], but vv. 1–3 demonstrates that now he knows those previous signs and
wonders did not exhaust God’s power. Now he confesses God’s
everlasting and enduring nature and authority to all the people he rules.
These verses reveal that something startling has happened to
Nebuchadnezzar. This change comes because he learns what pride does to
humans. Pride twists the mind, the heart, and the body. It drives
Nebuchadnezzar to see only his personal dreams and visions, and none of
the afflicted persons around him. Pride flows from the worst mistake of all,
which is putting one’s self in God’s place. Kings are not the only ones to
commit this error. It is a common human failing. So, it is no wonder that
God warns Nebuchadnezzar and every reader about the need to know who
rules the world and assigns duties in every walk of life.
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Jesus said, “blessed are those who are humble” [Matthew 5:5]; “if anyone
wants to come with me, he must deny himself, pick up his cross every day,
and follow me continually” [Luke 9:23]; and “whoever doesn’t receive the
kingdom of God as a little child will never get into it at all” [Luke 18:17].

So, Nebuchadnezzar learns because God chastens the proud, whoever they
are. God rules monarchs, no less than exiles, wise men, and labourers.
Every character in Daniel’s book lives under God’s scrutiny and care. This
fact transcends racial, national, and financial boundaries. No inhabitant of
the earth can correct or coerce God [v. 35]. Like Nebuchadnezzar, all
persons are dependent on the “Most High” [v. 34]. Confessing this fact of
reality is foundational to biblical faith, and foundational to peace of mind.
God disciplines through supernatural means via beings called “watchers”
who view the earth and act with full authority from God and aid humans
[vv. 13, 17]. Thus, Daniel runs counter to materialistic worldviews and
policies. This passage also shows God’s merciful intentions in disciplining
people. God’s work with Nebuchadnezzar is not merely educative, but also
transformative. It is good for him to learn that he is not God, though it is
terrible that it took such drastic measures for him to learn this basic truth.
Thus, suffering has a kindly role here [John 11:4], and enables the king to
appreciate how frail he is. Having learnt his lesson, he is restored to health
and to his throne. It is impossible to know if he acted like a changed man,
just as it is impossible to know how anyone will react to such a second
chance. Thus, Daniel invites discussion about conversion and worship in
every land, and Nebuchadnezzar finally comes to faith in God [vv. 34–37],
but his beliefs about God are a long step in the right direction. He holds
him as the highest God, the one to whom everyone must answer, and the
only one who can save from a furnace. People who confess these truths
may soon see that if God does all these things, then there is nothing for
other gods to do! Then they may find it easier to hold that God is unique
among the gods [Deuteronomy 6:4–9; 32:39]. Likewise, since we see
witnesses like Daniel who love people they could hate, we may understand
that true discipleship flows from God’s love, and love of one’s neighbour.

BELSHAZZAR’S FALL
Daniel 5
Opening Thought
1) What are some of the most outrageous, most public challenges to the
reality and holiness of God that you have witnessed in recent years? Is this
kind of anti–God sentiment and behaviour increasing and becoming more
brazen, or has sacrilegious activity always been this extreme?
Background of the Passage
Judah, because of her stubborn sinfulness, had been taken into captivity by
the Babylonians [Daniel 1]. Although this turn of events [an evil nation
being used as an instrument of judgment against the wayward people of
God] was troubling and confusing to many Israelites [see Habakkuk], it
only demonstrated God’s sovereignty. Psalm 46:10 declares, “Be in awe
and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations. I will be
exalted throughout the earth.” Thus, in the perfect and unstoppable plan of
God, the day of reckoning eventually arrived for godless Babylon too.
Now, in Daniel 5, we shall see the debauchery and demise of the empire
under Belshazzar. Just as had happened with Egypt during the time of
Moses, God brought low an arrogant man and a proud nation, and in the
process he brought glory to himself through a quiet but powerful servant.
The end of Daniel 5 witnesses the appearance of the Medo–Persians on the
stage of world history. At that time, Daniel, a model of humility and
faithfulness during an already lengthy career was in a vital position that
would have an international impact.
Bible Passage
Read Daniel 5
Belshazzar’s Feast
1
King Belshazzar put on a great festival for a thousand of his officials.
He joined all one thousand of them in getting drunk. 2Under the influence
of wine, Belshazzar ordered that the gold and silver vessels his grandfather
Nebuchadnezzar had taken from the Temple in Jerusalem be brought in so
the king, his officials, his wives, and his mistresses could drink from them.
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3
As ordered, they brought in the gold vessels that had been taken from
the sanctuary of God’s Temple in Jerusalem, and the king, his officials, his
wives, and mistresses drank from them. 4As they drank the wine, they
praised gods of gold, silver, bronze, iron, wood, and stone.
The Handwriting on the Wall
5
At that moment, humanlike fingers of a hand appeared near the lamp
stand of the royal palace and wrote on the plaster of the wall. 6While the
king watched the back of the hand as it was writing, his facial expression
changed. Utterly terrified, his legs collapsed and his knees began knocking
together. 7The king cried out to bring in enchanters, Chaldeans, and
astrologers. He announced to the advisors of Babylon, “Whoever can read
this writing and tell me its meaning will be clothed in purple, have a gold
chain placed around his neck, and will become the third highest ruler in the
kingdom.” 8Then all the king’s advisors came in, but they were unable to
read the writing or tell the king what it meant. 9So King Belshazzar
became even more frightened, and his facial expression showed it. His
officials also were thrown into confusion. 10Hearing the voices of the king
and his officials, the queen entered the banquet hall. “Your majesty, live
forever,” the queen said. “Don’t be frightened by your thoughts or allow
your facial expression to show it. 11There’s a man in your kingdom in
whom dwells the spirit of the holy gods. During your grandfather’s reign,
he was found to have insight, intelligence, and wisdom, like that of the
gods. Your grandfather, King Nebuchadnezzar—your kingly
predecessor—appointed him to be chief administrator over the magicians,
enchanters, Chaldeans, and astrologers, 12because he was found to have an
extraordinary spirit, knowledge, and understanding, along with an ability
to interpret dreams, explain riddles, and solve difficult problems. His name
is Daniel, whom the king renamed Belteshazzar. Call for Daniel, and he
will reveal the meaning of the writing.”
Daniel Interprets the Handwriting
13
Then Daniel was brought before the king. The king spoke up and told
Daniel, “So you are Daniel, one of the Judean exiles whom my grandfather
the king brought from Judah! 14I’ve heard about you, that a spirit of the
gods is in you and that you have insight, discernment, and extraordinary
wisdom. 15Take note that the advisors and enchanters were brought before
me to read the writing and explain its meaning, but were unable to do so.
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16
However, I’ve heard that you can provide meaning and Understanding the Text
interpretation, and that you can solve difficult problems. If you are able to 2) What insolent actions did Belshazzar do during his feast? (5:1–4)
read the writing and report its meaning, you will be clothed in purple, have
a gold chain placed around your neck, and you will become the third First, a preliminary overview is required to fully appreciate the context of
highest ruler in the kingdom.” 17At this, Daniel answered, speaking Daniel 5. Since the first major section [Daniel 2–7] emphasizes the Gentile
directly to the king, “Let your gifts and rewards be given to someone else. nations under which Israel was being disciplined [and how God exercised
However, I’ll read the writing for the king and tell him its meaning. 18Your his sovereignty over them], this consists of two halves that are arranged in
majesty, the Most High God gave your grandfather Nebuchadnezzar a concentric structure [Daniel 2–4 and Daniel 5–7], and consequently
sovereignty, as well as greatness, glory, and splendour. 19And because of Daniel 4 is parallel to Daniel 5. In other words, Daniel 4 records the divine
the greatness that he gave him, all people, nations, and languages revered humbling of the Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar, and this is paralleled in
and feared him. He executed those whom he desired to execute, he spared Daniel 5 with the divine humbling of the Babylonian king Belshazzar.
those whom he wished to spare, he promoted those whom he desired to Thus, Daniel 5 is a turning point in this first major section of the book,
promote, and he humbled those whom he wished to humble. 20But when he both from a literary perspective as well as a historical perspective. Thus,
became arrogant and his spirit hardened, he was removed from his royal Daniel 2–4 dealt with Nebuchadnezzar, but now the narrative jumps
throne and his glory was taken away from him. 21He was driven away from forward ~23 years to the time of Belshazzar [Nebuchadnezzar’s grandson].
human society and given the mind of an animal. He lived with wild
donkeys, ate grass like cattle, and his body was soaked with dew from the
sky until he realized that the Most High God is sovereign over human
kingdoms and places over them whomever he desires. 22But you,
Belshazzar, his grandson, haven’t humbled yourself, even though you
knew all of this. 23You’ve exalted yourself against the Lord of heaven.
You’ve had the vessels from his Temple brought into your presence. And
you, your officials, and your wives and mistresses drank wine from them.
You praised gods of silver, gold, bronze, iron, wood, and stone, which
can’t see, hear, or demonstrate knowledge. But you didn’t honour God,
who holds in his power your very life and all your ways. 24Therefore, the
hand that wrote this inscription was sent from his presence. 25This is the
written inscription:
MENE, MENE, TEKEL, PARSIN
26
These are the meanings of the words: MENE: God has audited your
kingdom—and has ended it. 27TEKEL: You’ve been weighed on the
scales—and you don’t measure up. 28PERES: Your kingdom has been Furthermore, Daniel 4 and Daniel 5 are similar in that both are concerned
divided—and will be given to the Medes and Persians.” 29Then Belshazzar with Babylonian kings whose pride must be humbled before God.
gave orders to clothe Daniel in purple, to place a chain of gold around his However, the nature and extent of the humbling is different. In Daniel 2–4,
neck, and to proclaim him the third highest ruler of the kingdom. 30That God progressively dealt with Nebuchadnezzar, revealing more about
night Belshazzar, king of the Chaldeans, was killed, 31and Darius the Mede himself and sovereignly bringing the king to a point of praise to God.
took over the kingdom at the age of 62.

Obviously God could have dealt accordingly with each king by humbling
them until they praised him. However, by the end of Daniel 4, the point
was sufficiently made that God truly rules over human affairs. Thus, there
is no need to demonstrate this again in the same way. Nevertheless,
judgment will fall upon Babylon to advance successive Gentile powers.
Thus, the historical context of Daniel 5 is that Belshazzar was not the sole
ruling king; his father Nabonidus was the primary ruling king. Instead,
Belshazzar served as co–ruler over Babylon in a subordinate position.
Wilfred Lambert [20th century Assyriologist] says: “Nabonidus was the
last king of the Late Babylonian Empire before the Persians put an end to
the succession of local dynasties, and he was certainly the most
individualist ruler of his line. Not only did he espouse religious views
which made him seem a heretic to most of his contemporaries, but this
involved him in a withdrawal from Babylonia to an oasis in Arabia,
where he spent a decade. The chronology of his age is fortunately well
known. From the framework established by the abundant dated
administrative, economic and legal texts, confirmed by astronomical data,
and subject to checks of various kinds, it is known that Nabonidus became
undisputed king by the end of June 556 B.C., and that he lost his throne
practically when the Persians took Babylon on October 12 539 B.C., but
only theoretically when Cyrus entered the city on October 29 of the same
year. Thus, the reign was of 17 years, as stated by Berossus and the Greek
compilation usually called Ptolemy’s Canon. The only cuneiform list to
include him has a damaged year figure, but it can well have been ‘17’
when complete.”
Thomas Fish [20th century Assyriologist] likewise says: “Nabonidus, king
of Babylon (555–539 B.C.), thought of himself as heir to the mission of two
illustrious predecessors, Nebuchadrezzar and Neriglissar, and to their
armies. His failure was due to his origins and tactlessness and to political
forces at home and abroad. Nabonidus had ties with far away Harran
where his mother became high priestess of the Moon–god. His piety
towards his mother and her god partly explains his piety towards both the
city and the god of Harran. He protests his ·devotion to the deities of
Akkad, but he offended local susceptibilities by introducing into Babylon
deities who did not belong there. More relevant to his failure was the
political situation in his day. Within Babylonia itself the years since the
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death of Nebuchadrezzar had been years of unrest and violence against
the crown. Nebuchadrezzar’s son and· successor, Evil–Merodach (2 Kings
25:27), on whose succession Jehoiachin of Judah was set free (561 B.C.),
was assassinated after reigning 2 years. Neriglissar reigned but 3 years.
Nabonidus’ immediate predecessor, a mere child, Labashi–Marduk, was
murdered within a year of his accession. Five years after Nabonidus came
to the throne, Cyrus overcame Astyages the Mede, whose capital,
Ecbatana, he made the capital of his enlarged kingdom (549 B.C.).
Nabonidus reacted to this victory by moving his army into Arabia Felix,
leaving his son Belshazzar in control of Babylonia and its army. Later be
returned to Babylonia and to defeat.”
Thus, Nabonidu spent several years away from Babylon in both Harran
and Arabia, where he specifically conquered the city of Teima in Arabia
strategically situated at the junction of two important trade routes, then
slaughtered the inhabitants, and then repopulated the city. For reasons that
are not entirely clear [although there is evidence that he had offended and
alienated himself from the religious priests of Babylon], he spent 10 years
away from Babylon living in Teima, during which his son Belshazzar was
entrusted with the daily administration of Babylon. In fact, religion was
not the only factor that led Nabonidus to take up residence in Teima. He
was a player on the world political stage, and his excursion into northern
Arabia served to further Babylonian military imperialism in the west and
take control of the important caravan trade routes, thereby gaining control
of the vast wealth of the region. Furthermore, we should keep in mind that
Daniel had been in Babylon for ~66 years, which means he was in his 80s
at the time of the events in Daniel 5. We also know from extra–biblical
sources that it was in 539 b.c. that this feast occurred and Babylon fell to
the combined armies of the Medes and Persians under the command of
Cyrus. During the years leading up to this climactic event, Cyrus had been
leading his armies against the Babylonian Empire. As recorded in the
Nabonidus Chronicle, Cyrus had already conquered the neighbouring
cities to Babylon [Sippar and Akkad], and now his advance had brought
him within a few kilometres of Babylon itself! Thus, the feast of Daniel 5
was no ordinary feast. The Babylonian Empire was in the process of
crumbling. Belshazzar’s father [Nabonidus] had attempted to lead an
assault against the Medo–Persian forces of Cyrus, but had been defeated
and had to flee to Borsippa [Josephus, C. Ap. 1:20].

At the time of this feast, Babylon was surrounded by the troops of Ugbaru,
a general under Cyrus, but Belshazzar and the citizens of Babylon felt
secure behind the massive walls of the city, having enough food and
provisions to outlast a siege of several years. Nevertheless, God had other
plans for Belshazzar and Babylon.
In summary, the events of Daniel 5 took place in October 539 b.c., the
same month/year that Babylon fell to Cyrus of Persia. In other words,
Babylon was losing the war, since Cyrus defeated the Babylonians at Opis
in the north on the Tigris and took the city. Then, on the 10th of October,
Cyrus took Sippar without a fight, and on the 12th of October, the Persians
that were led by Gubaru/Ugbaru [governor of Gutium] took Babylon.
Wendy Widder [21st century biblical scholar] summarizes the details:
“When God’s people were in Egypt, near the end of their first foreign
captivity, they cried out from under the ruthless fist of Pharaoh. The God
of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob heard their cry and set in motion his plan to
redeem the people. In a relentless display of power to a Pharaoh who
boasted that he didn’t know Yahweh, and would not listen to him (Exodus
5:2), God introduced himself. At Pharaoh’s initial demand for a miracle,
Aaron threw his staff before the king and it slithered away. When
Pharaoh’s magicians duplicated this display, Aaron’s snake swallowed up
their snakes. Pharaoh’s magicians mimicked the first two plagues, but
when Aaron struck the dirt and gnats blanketed Egypt, Pharaoh’s
magicians confessed that behind this plague was ‘the finger of God’
(Exodus 8:19). Pharaoh’s heart, however, remained hard until Egypt was
nearly destroyed (Exodus 10:7). After the final plague and the death
angel’s pass over Israelite homes marked with blood, Pharaoh relented
and Moses hurried God’s people out of Egypt. The Israelites travelled to
Mount Sinai, where they camped while Moses met with Yahweh atop the
mountain. At the end of 40 days, ‘the finger of God’ inscribed two stone
tablets with the Ten Commandments (Exodus 31:18; Deuteronomy 9:10).
This unique revelatory text formed the basis of the covenant between
God and Israel. The expression ‘finger of God’ occurs only in these two
contexts, but God’s fingers appear one other time in Psalms, where the
psalmist calls the heavens ‘the work of your fingers’ (Psalm 8:3). His
contemplation of God’s great natural revelation led to humble
acknowledgment that God had elevated humans as rulers in his stead. The
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psalmist voices the only appropriate response: ‘O Lord, our Lord, how
majestic is your name in all the earth!’ (Psalm 8:9). This majestic Lord
took up residence among the Israelites, first, in the portable tabernacle
and then in the wonder of the world that was Solomon’s temple. The
temple was the nation’s pride and joy, and its eventual destruction at the
hands of Nebuchadnezzar was devastating. The record of this destruction
and the slow, painful demise of Jerusalem are found in both 2 Kings and 2
Chronicles. The writer of 2 Kings details the Babylonian incursions of 597
BC and 587–586 BC and describes the fate of the gold, silver, and bronze
treasures of the temple. At the end of the 597 BC siege, Nebuchadnezzar
plundered treasures from the palace and temple. He also took human
plunder: officers, fighting men, craftsmen, and artisans. A decade later
when Zedekiah rebelled, Nebuchadnezzar returned to Jerusalem one last
time, setting fire to the palace, temple, other public buildings, and homes.
Leaving behind a decimated holy city and the lowest strata of society to
work the land, the Babylonians scooped up the last of the temple’s
treasures. The Chronicler’s account of the dispersal of the temple vessels
takes place in three stages. First, some vessels went to Babylon in the time
of Jehoiakim (2 Chronicles 36:10). Then the Chronicler recounts in an
abbreviated way the same events that are in 2 Kings 23:29–24:17.
Nebuchadnezzar’s haul in 597 BC included Jehoiachin and ‘the articles of
value from the temple of the Lord’ (2 Chronicles 36:10). In the final siege
(587–586 BC), the Chronicler records that God handed the people over to
Nebuchadnezzar, who also ‘carried to Babylon all the articles from the
temple of God, both large and small, and the treasures of the Lord’s
temple and the treasures of the king and his officials’ (2 Chronicles
36:18). Those valuable vessels remained in the treasury of
Nebuchadnezzar’s god through the rise and fall of the king’s three
legitimate successors (Amēl–Marduk, Neriglissar, and Labashi–Marduk),
as well as his illegitimate successor, the usurper Nabonidus. But,
Nabonidus was no devotee of the supreme Babylonian god, Marduk.
Rather, the last king of the Babylonian empire favoured the moon god, Sîn,
the chief god of Harran, Nabonidus’ ancestral homeland in upper
Mesopotamia. This is likely the same place Abraham’s family settled
after they left Ur (Genesis 11:31; 12:4). In an inscription entitled
Nabonidus and his God, the king claims this allegiance caused problems
between him and his subjects. He recounts how Sîn visited him and told
him to rebuild the moon god’s temple in Harran. However, the rest of

Babylon ‘acted evil, careless and even sinned against’ the divine power of
Sîn, bringing down his wrath. Mercifully, Sîn spared Nabonidus from this
divine wrath and sent him away from Babylon for 10 years. The
Nabonidus Chronicle, part of the larger historical archive known as the
Babylonian Chronicle, indicates that while the king was 450 miles away
from the royal city in Teima, an oasis in what is today Saudi Arabia, he
left the crown prince in charge—his eldest son, Belshazzar. But, neither
Nabonidus nor his ruling son appears to have lifted a finger in defence of
their empire when Cyrus came with the Persian army in 539 BC.
Historical sources closest to the events indicate that the king had fled and
the once mighty Babylon gave in with barely a whimper. According to the
Nabonidus Chronicle, Cyrus’ army first took over nearby Sippar and then
entered Babylon without a fight 2 days later. The Cyrus Cylinder, an
inscribed clay cylinder commemorating Cyrus’ building projects in
Babylon, supports this account: ‘Marduk made Cyrus enter his city
Babylon without fighting or battle. He delivered Nabonidus, the king who
did not revere him, into his hands.’ Later Greek historians Herodotus and
Xenophon report that the city fell while its people feasted in a drunken
revelry, but this may be an embellishment of the account.”
Paul House [21st century biblical scholar] likewise summarizes and says:
“We take a long historical step between Daniel 4:37 and Daniel 5:1,
because Daniel apparently expected his readers to know Nebuchadnezzar
died in 562 bc, and that three kings succeeded him before Nabonidus took
the throne in 556 bc. Nabonidus was Babylon’s final king, serving until
539 bc, when Persia conquered Babylon. Daniel’s readers are also
expected to recall that Belshazzar (Daniel 5:1; 7:1; 8:1) served as co–
regent in Babylon in his father’s absence, and that he was in residence and
his father was probably out fighting when the city fell. Most of all, they are
expected to recall Daniel 4:37, which stresses God’s power to bring down
the proud, something Belshazzar never learned, at least not until it was too
late. Thus, in the context of Daniel 1:21, his readers would not be
surprised to find an elderly Daniel still in service. However, although his
first readers likely did know these things, or an approximation of them, it
has taken years for modern scholars to reconstruct many of the events just
summarized. For one thing, until 1854 the bible provided the only
evidence that Belshazzar existed, much less that he ruled in Babylon.
For another, though called a king in Daniel 5:1, he did not have all the
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power of a king, but co–regents rarely had such authority. Finally, as
Gerhard Hasel demonstrates in a masterly article published in 1977, it
was difficult prior to the last 60 years to determine when Nabonidus was
away from Babylon, but the years 550–549 to 540 BC are now proven to
be the most likely dates. Though they vary in their details, several ancient
extra–biblical sources describe the circumstances surrounding Babylon’s
fall, so the event is well–attested. Interestingly, Daniel 5 does not
highlight how the city fell. It focuses on why it fell. Pride (Daniel 4:34–
37) and blasphemy (Daniel 3:26–29) led God to hand Babylon over to
Persia. By now, readers will recognize certain continuing plot elements.
Babylon has conquered Judah (Daniel 1:1–2; 5:1–4). A king has a vision
that requires interpretation, but his wise men cannot help him (Daniel
2:1–13; 4:1–18; 5:1–9), so he eventually has Daniel appealed (Daniel
4:1–18; 5:10–12). Daniel explains the situation (Daniel 2:24–45; 4:19–
27; 5:13–28), and receives honour (Daniel 2:46–49; 5:29). Thus, there is
a bit of a ‘court contest’ here. There are also important new features.
Belshazzar shows less respect for God than Nebuchadnezzar did (Daniel
5:1–4), and offers no praise of God (Daniel 2:46–49; 3:26–29; 4:1–3, 34–
37) when Daniel solves his problem. Tellingly, Daniel compares
Belshazzar unfavourably to Nebuchadnezzar (Daniel 5:18–23). The
passage’s tone points towards its purpose, which is to describe why and
when God’s hand wrote the Babylonian Empire’s death notice.”
Starting with v. 1, we read: “King Belshazzar put on a great festival for
1,000 of his officials. He joined all 1,000 of them in getting drunk.”
First, the LXXΟ has a brief preface prefixed to v. 1 that reads: “King
Belshazzar made a great reception in the day of the dedication of his
palace. He invited two thousand men. On that day Belshazzar, excited
from the wine and boasting, praised all the gods of the nations that are
molten and carved in his place. But, to God, the Most High, he did not give
praise. On the same night fingers like a human came out and wrote upon
the wall of his house upon the plaster opposite the lamps, ‘Mene Phares
thekel.’ Now the explanation of these words is: ‘Mene: He has been
counted; Phares: He has been removed; Thekel: He has established.’”
Scholars argue that this preface must have derived from a longer
independent version of the narrative.
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Justin Pannkuk [21st century biblical scholar] summarizes: “Prefixed to the
Old Greek version of Daniel 5 is a brief preface that recounts some of the
plot lines of the narrative. It is argued that the preface must have derived
from a longer version of the narrative, because it lacks elements intrinsic
to the Old Greek and Masoretic Text versions. These elements are
isolated with the help of the typology of story forms developed in folklore
studies. The unique variants preserved in the preface suggest that it
derives from a third, parallel version of the legend. This third version
lacked a reference to the temple vessels from Jerusalem, which allows us
to appreciate the role of the vessels in the Old Greek and Masoretic Text
traditions, especially how they integrate this story into a larger discourse
about the fate of the vessels in post–exilic literature.”
Sin. To me give the gift of long life, and as regards Belshazzar, my first
born son, my dear offspring, put in his heart reverence for thy high
divinity.” Furthermore, evidence from the Persian Verse Account of
Nabonidus shows that Nabonidus had also entrusted the rule of Babylon to
Belshazzar in his absence: “He freed his hand; he entrusted the kingship to
him. Then he himself undertook a distant campaign.” Thus, there is
sufficient evidence to demonstrate that the father and son shared a joint–
regime in which Belshazzar occupied the subordinate position. As a result,
official documents would be dated according to Nabonidus, but Daniel
made reference to Belshazzar, because this was the man in Babylon that
the Jews actually had to deal with and whose royal word could affect them.
Here is a stone relief of Belshazzar shown as the Babylonian crown prince:

Second, notice that the king’s banquet was on “the day of the dedication of
his palace.” This was the New Year akītu festival, to honour the chief
deity of the city, which was held during the first 11 days of Nisan [the time
of Israel’s Passover]. On the 2nd day of the festival, the šešgallu–priest
prayed to Marduk, extolling the god’s victories and seeking his favour for
Babylon, its people, and the temple Esagila. Also during this festival, the
god Nabû [Marduk’s son], would arrive from Borsippa. On the 5th day, it
honoured Marduk through the cleansing of his temple, priestly offerings of
animal sacrifices, prayers, and a recitation of the Enūma Eliš. On the 10th
day, the king of Babylon then “took Marduk by the hand” and would
accompany Marduk [the statue], and lead a grand procession from Esagila
through the streets of Babylon. On their way from the main gate of the
Esagila along Marduk’s processional street and through the Ishtar Gate,
singers, dancers, and musicians would accompany them. After the
procession, the statue was transferred from a horse–pulled jewelled chariot
to a boat, and the statue eventually arrived at the special akītu shrine
outside the city’s walls, where an extravagant feast was prepared before
returning to their usual temple residences. Thus, this would explain why a
banquet was being held at a time when the city was under assault.
Nevertheless, critical scholars have attacked the historicity of this passage
on numerous matters, especially in regard to the naming of Belshazzar as
“king” of Babylon. This is because extra–biblical literature consistently
refers to Nabonidus as the king of Babylon rather than Belshazzar.
However, we do have clear evidence that Belshazzar was the son of
Nabonidus: “O Moon god preserve me, Nabonidus, king of Babylon, from

The hosting of great banquets was typical of Persian kings [Esther 1], and
both Herodotus [Hist. 1.191] and Xenophon [Cyr. 5.15] report that the
capture of Babylon was partly aided by the fact that the Babylonians were
celebrating a festival when “the citizens drink and make merry the whole
night long.” So, the idea of a banquet “for 1,000 of his officials” is no
exaggeration at all, especially if this particular banquet took place on the
12th of October in 539 b.c., because Babylon fell on the 16th day of Tašritu
during the 17th year of Nabonidus [according to the Nabonidus Chronicle].
John Collins [21st century 2nd Temple scholar] says: “According to Ctesias
and Dinon, the Persian king ‘used to dine in company with 15,000 men
and 400 talents were expended on the dinner’ (Athenaeus Deipnosophistae
4.146e). This fantastic number is due in some part to the custom by which
bodyguards and other royal troops received food as payment (Athenaeus
Deipnosophistae 4.145e). The number ’15,000’ may have its origin in the
Persian king’s bodyguard of 1,000. The sum of 400 talents is also given by
Herodotus (7.118) as the cost of providing a meal for the army of Xerxes
en route to Greece, and this figure may have influenced the later Greek
writers. Even if we allow for exaggeration, the Persian rulers were
evidently known for lavish entertainments.”
So, the king set the tone for the evening by drinking wine before them,
since the durative force of the Aramaic šāṯēh [for “getting drunk”] is
intended to stress the ongoing activity until they reached a state of
inebriation. Thus, in light of these historical circumstances, if the armies of
the Medes and Persians had already conquered the neighbouring cities of
Sippar and Akkad, and if the Babylonian army led by Nabonidus had
already suffered a defeat north of Babylon, why would Belshazzar have
been holding a banquet at this crucial time when the enemy forces were
surrounding them? The answer is that, since Belshazzar’s feast was the
akītu festival in honour of the Babylonian moon–god Sîn, this also
ironically occurred on the 16th–17th of Tašritu when they were surrounded!
Albert Wolters [21st century biblical scholar] extensively explains:
“According to Daniel 5, the Neo–Babylonian king Belshazzar was
celebrating a great feast in the night when Babylon fell and he himself met
his death. Although the Greek writers Herodotus and Xenophon also
mention a feast at the time of Babylon’s fall, many biblical scholars have
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been reluctant to give the story much credence. On the other hand,
Assyriologists like Paul Garelli and archaeologists like David Stronach
are prepared to accept the historicity of Belshazzar’s feast. An intriguing
attempt to give the story some historical plausibility was undertaken by
William Shea, who argued that the feast in question might have been a
celebration of Belshazzar’s coronation as sole ruler, after the defeat of his
father Nabonidus. Although this proposal would explain a number of
historical difficulties in the story of Belshazzar, it is not supported by any
explicit contemporary records and remains quite speculative. Instead, the
evidence suggests that Belshazzar’s feast is to be understood as an akitu
festival in honour of the Babylonian moon god Sîn. This akitu suggestion
was first made in 1989 by Paul–Alain Beaulieu in his book The Reign of
Nabonidus, which is currently the most authoritative account of the reign
of Belshazzar’s father, based on a careful study of all the relevant
cuneiform inscriptions. One of the major themes of this book is the
determined attempt made by Nabonidus to replace Marduk as head of
the Babylonian pantheon with the moon god Sîn. Part of this
revolutionary religious policy was the restoration of the temple of Sîn in
Harran, a city traditionally devoted to the worship of the moon god. It was
in Harran, with which Nabonidus had strong personalities, that there was
an akitu festival of Sîn, apparently celebrated on the 17th of Tašritu. When
Beaulieu comes to his discussion of the fall of Babylon, he brings the
above information to bear on the stories of the feast found in Herodotus,
Xenophon, and Daniel. He writes: ‘The tradition of the festivities might
reflect historical fact. According to the chronicle, Babylon was taken on
the 16th of Tašritu. Accepting that Nabonidus imposed new features of the
cult of Sîn in the capital after his return from Teima, it is conceivable that
festivals linked with the cult of Sîn at Harran were transplanted to
Babylon, perhaps even the akitu festival. This festival started on the 17th of
Tašritu. As Babylon was captured on the eve of the 17th, the festivities
mentioned by Herodotus and Daniel may have been those of the Harran
akitu festival, as celebrated in the capital by the supporters of Nabonidus.’
By putting Belshazzar’s feast in the context of Nabonidus’ overall program
of promoting the worship of Sîn, Beaulieu can make a plausible case for
connecting this feast with the akitu festival of Harran, especially since the
date of the latter virtually coincides with the date of the former. A similar
point was made in 1990 by Lawrence Wills in his book The Jew in the
Court of the Foreign King: Ancient Jewish Court Legends. In a discussion

of the relationship of the Old Greek to the Masoretic Text in Daniel 5,
Wills makes the following comments: ‘The vague ‘great feast’ in the
Masoretic Text occurs at a very specific time in the Old Greek proem: ‘in
the day of the consecration festival of his palace,’ most likely the day of
the New Year (akitu) Festival. We see in the Wadi Brissa inscription
mentioned above in regard to Daniel 4, that in the very context of the
renewal of the palace there is a description of the New Year Festival and
of the magnificent feast which Nebuchadnezzar set out for his honoured
guests.’ Although Wills considers the story of Belshazzar’s feast to be
fictitious, he argues that it is put in the realistic setting of the great feast
that Nebuchadnezzar, according to one inscription, put on at the
Babylonian akitu festival. Unlike Beaulieu, he does not put this festival in
the context of the Sîn cult; in fact he seems to have in mind only the
familiar akitu festival of Marduk, which was celebrated at the beginning of
the religious New Year in Nisanu. He seems to be unaware that an akitu
festival was also celebrated at the beginning of the civil New Year in
Tašritu. Nevertheless, it is striking that he too sees in Beishazzar’s feast a
description of this characteristic Babylonian institution. The significance
of his argument is that it gives independent support to one aspect of the
suggestive proposal made by Beaulieu. There are two further arguments
in support of Beaulieu’s proposal that Belshazzar’s feast represents an
akitu festival in honour of the moon god Sîn. The first is based on the
astronomical facts of the moon’s movements; the second on a recently
deciphered Aramaic manuscript. There is a good astronomical reason why
a festival in honour of the moon god should be celebrated on the 17th of
Tašritu and why that date should be one on which, according to
Babylonian astrological lore, ‘Sîn is propitious to mankind.’ The reason is
that this date always falls in the days immediately following either the
Harvest Moon or the Hunter’s Moon, the only times during the year
when the moon for several days running rises right after sunset and
shines throughout the night. The phenomenon of Harvest Moon and
Hunter’s Moon has to do with the angle of the ecliptic relative to the
horizon and is technically described in terms of the moon’s ‘retardation’
in different seasons of the year. The full moon nearest the fall equinox (the
Harvest Moon) introduces a period of several days when the moon rises
right after the sunset, and that the same phenomenon, though less marked,
can be observed after the next full moon (the Hunter’s Moon). Although it
is true at every full moon that sunset and moonrise are virtually
222
simultaneous, it is only in the case of Harvest and Hunter’s Moon that this
near simultaneity holds for a longer period. The effect, of course, is that
the moon has the whole night to itself for a number of successive nights.
Because the Babylonians used a lunar calendar that was periodically
intercalated to make it match the solar year, the 17th of Tašritu would
invariably come right after either the Harvest Moon or the Hunter’s Moon,
and would therefore always fall in one of the two periods of near
simultaneity that we have described. We find a close parallel in the case
of the Jewish feast of Tabernacles (or Sukkot), which begins on the 15th
of Tishri. Since the Jewish calendar is modelled on the Babylonian one,
and Tishri is simply the Jewish equivalent of Babylonian Tašritu, it is
instructive to observe that the first day of Sukkot always falls within a
day or two of either the Harvest Moon or the Hunter’s Moon. In 1991,
for example, it coincided with Harvest Moon (September 23), as it did in
1990 (October 4), but in 1989 it fell on the same day as Hunter’s Moon
(October 14). It is clear that the 3rd day of Sukkot, which corresponds to
the 17th of Tašritu in the Babylonian calendar, would in each case come in
the days immediately following these two special full moons. The upshot of
these reflections on the lunar calendar is therefore that the 17th of Tašritu
always fell during one of the two periods of the year that the moon had an
unusually prominent place at night. It should also be remembered that the
Harvest Moon and Hunter’s Moon, by a curious trick of perception, are
popularly believed to be unusually large and luminous. It is therefore
singularly appropriate that the akitu festival in honour of the moon god
Sîn should take place on the 17th of Tašritu, when the lunar deity, several
days after full moon, retained its sway throughout the night. In light of
this, it is significant that Daniel 5 pictures Belshazzar’s feast as a
nocturnal festivity. Xenophon also explicitly states that the festival in
question lasted the entire night (Cyropaedia 7.5.15). This is a detail that
supports Beaulieu’s hypothesis that it was indeed the akitu festival in
honour of Sîn that was celebrated in Babylon on that fateful Tašritu night,
since it was only during the night that the moon god showed himself to
his worshipers in all his splendour. We turn now to the second argument.
Our discussion so far has served to support the hypothesis of an akitu
festival in honour of the moon god Sîn, which was celebrated during the
month of Tašritu both in Harran and in Babylon. This hypothesis has
recently received strong support in a 1991 article by Richard Steiner
entitled ‘The Aramaic Text in Demotic Script: The Liturgy of a New Year’s

Festival Imported from Bethel to Syene by Exiles from Rash,’ and reports
on the latest results of the attempt to decipher and interpret Papyrus
Amherst 63. This intriguing text, which had earlier yielded a paganized
version of Psalm 20, seems to have belonged to a community of people
originally from Rash in Mesopotamia who had first been deported to
Bethel in Samaria by the Neo–Assyrians, and had subsequently found their
way to Syene in Egypt. The relevance of Steiner’s article to the theme of
this article is clear from the following quotation: ‘It is now clear that we
are dealing with the liturgy of a New Year’s festival (IVB/8 rs.š,n.nm)
celebrated in Epiph = Tishri (VIlI/13, XV/2), like the Jewish Rosh
Hashanah holiday, rather than in Nisan, the first month of the Persian–
Babylonian calendar. The rituals of the festival, as narrated in the text, are
similar to those of the Babylonian Akitu festival.’ It seems, therefore, that
the enigmatic Papyrus Amherst 63 preserves the liturgy of an akitu
festival that was celebrated in the Jewish month Tishri, that is, the
Babylonian month Tašritu. This akitu festival also had a connection with
the moon god. According to the earlier article on this text, written by
Steiner together with Charles Nims in 1983, in which they published their
discovery of the paganized version of Psalm 20 in Papyrus Amherst 63, the
deity to which the liturgy was dedicated had as one of his names Sahar,
the West Semitic name of the moon god. Furthermore, Steiner and Nims
deduced from a number of features in the text that the prayer embedded in
the liturgy was recited at night, possibly when the moon was visible. The
liturgy apparently goes back to an original setting in Rash (or Arash), a
region situated between Babylonia and Elam, and to the time of the Neo–
Assyrian king Ashurbanipal. Although Steiner does not mention it, it is
also significant that the Rash of the liturgical papyrus was geographically
close to Ur, which was one of the two traditional centers (along with
Harran) of moon worship in ancient Mesopotamia. What is more, there is
evidence of an akitu festival in Ur, which was celebrated in the month of
Tašritu in honour of the god Nanna (Nannar), the other traditional name
of the moon god in the cuneiform documents. Taking all these data
together, it appears that Papyrus Amherst 63 preserves elements of the
liturgy of an ancient Mesopotamian nocturnal akitu festival, celebrated
in honour of the moon god in the month Tašritu. This of course fits
perfectly with the thesis that Belshazzar’s feast represents just such an
akitu festival. To summarize, we can say that there is evidence from
Harran, Rash, and Ur for an akitu festival in honour of the moon god
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celebrated in the month Tašritu. Since Belshazzar’s feast was also a
festival celebrated in Tašritu, specifically in the days following the
Hunter’s Moon, it is likely that it is a 4th example of this akitu festival of
the moon god. As Beaulieu has seen, this conclusion fits well with what
we know about Nabonidus and his religious policies in the closing years
of the Neo–Babylonian Empire. After an absence of 10 years in Teima,
during which he had left his son Belshazzar in charge of Babylon,
Nabonidus had returned in 543 BC, timing his return to coincide with
the date of the Harran akitu festival on the 17th of Tašritu. In the final 4
years of his reign he worked actively to promote the worship of Sîn,
seeking to replace Marduk as the head of the Babylonian pantheon. He
completed the restoration of the two major shrines of the moon god, the
Ehulhul of Harran and the ziggurat of Ur. He even attempted to convert
the great temple of Marduk in Babylon (the Esagil) to the worship of Sîn.
Needless to say, he encountered the fierce resistance of the priests of
Marduk, who were already incensed because the king had for several
years, by his absence, effectively cancelled the great akitu festival in
honour of Marduk, which was celebrated in the month Nisanu. The
outrage of the Marduk priests is reflected in the so–called ‘Verse
Account of Nabonidus,’ which accuses Nabonidus of worshiping the god
‘Ilteri’—a designation that turns out to be an enigmatic spelling of
Sahar, the West Semitic name of the moon god. It would be entirely
consonant with the general policy of Nabonidus if, in these final years, he
introduced into Babylon that other akitu festival in honour of Sîn that was
celebrated in Tašritu and had his son and co–regent Belshazzar preside
over it in his absence. In fact, Beaulieu has recently suggested, in another
connection, that the king may have organized religious ceremonies for
Sîn in Babylon during the last year of his reign. The picture that emerges
is therefore the following. In the final years of the Neo–Babylonian
Empire, there were two akitu festivals, one in honour of Marduk, which
was celebrated in Nisanu, the other in honour of Sîn, which was celebrated
in Tašritu. Both were New Year festivals, since the cultic year began in
Nisanu and the civil year began in Tašritu (in fact, the name tašritu means
‘beginning’ in Akkadian). We must bear in mind that such a double akitu
celebration is also attested elsewhere in ancient Mesopotamia. Because
Nabonidus was fanatically devoted to Sîn at the expense of Marduk, he
boycotted the akitu festival in Nisanu and favoured the akitu festival in
Tašritu. Belshazzar’s feast as recorded in Daniel 5 therefore fits well, not

only with what we know of the akitu festival of the moon god in Harran,
Rash, and Ur, but also with what we know of the overall politics of the
last years of Babylon. In conclusion, the festival which ancient sources
connect with the fall of Babylon in 539 BC may have been an akitu festival
in honour of the moon god Sîn. This can be supported by two additional
arguments. First, the dates of the festival (the 16th and 17th of Tagritu)
would always have come immediately after the Harvest Moon or Hunter’s
Moon. Second, a Mesopotamian akitu festival celebrated in Tašritu and
dedicated to the moon god appears to be the background of the Aramaic
liturgy preserved in Papyrus Amherst 63. Given the religious politics of
Nabonidus’ last years, in which Sîn was promoted at the expense of
Marduk, it is likely that a similar akitu festival took place in Babylon at
the time of its fall.”
Furthermore, since this was a drunken orgy just before Babylon fell
[Xenophon, Cyr. 7.5.15], scholars give three more reasons for this feast:
1. Since Cyrus defeated Nabonidus ~2 days earlier and ~80 km north
at Sippar, they knew it was over, so it was the height of hedonism.
2. The banquet was meant to rally their leaders before the coming
battle. Belshazzar felt confident, given Babylon’s fortified wall,
that he could hold out. Israel’s Temple vessels were a reminder of
previous victories. This reminder served to encourage his officials.
In fact, since the Euphrates River ran through the city for plentiful
water supply, and they had ample provisions to outlast any siege
[Herodotus, Hist. 1.190; Xenophon, Cyr. 7.5.13], this would have
also caused them to feel invincible to Cyrus’ attack against them.
3. Belshazzar used this occasion to declare himself sole king upon the
defeat of his father. If that were the case, then calling him “king”
here naturally follows [later in Daniel 7:1].
Finally in vv. 2–4, we read: “Under the influence of wine, Belshazzar
ordered that the gold and silver vessels his grandfather Nebuchadnezzar
had taken from the Temple in Jerusalem be brought in so the king, his
officials, his wives, and his mistresses could drink from them. As ordered,
they brought in the gold vessels that had been taken from the sanctuary of
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God’s Temple in Jerusalem, and the king, his officials, his wives, and
mistresses drank from them. As they drank the wine, they praised gods of
gold, silver, bronze, iron, wood, and stone.”
The Aramaic māʾn [for “vessels”] were a type of silver/gold goblet, since
they were used for drinking purposes. If these vessels were taken during
the 1st deportation of 605 b.c. [recall Daniel 1:2], then ~66 years had
passed since they were removed to Babylon. Thus, it is amazing that
Belshazzar would even know of their existence! Furthermore, what
prompted him to bring them out for use on this particular night? It suggests
that he knew something about the history of the Jewish exiles and the
worship of their God, which means he also knew of the events pertaining
to his grandfather Nebuchadnezzar and how he had come to a personal
faith in Israel’s God [recall Daniel 4:1–3, 37]. In fact, he knew about
Nebuchadnezzar’s dream that Babylon would be overthrown by another
kingdom [recall Daniel 2:39]. Thus, he purposely had them brought out to
make the point that he himself scoffed at these matters, reinforcing the
message that the Medes and Persians were not to be feared. In fact, these
“gold and silver vessels” were formerly used in the worship and service of
God, but now they were used sacrilegiously in his drunken orgy while also
exalting the deities and idols of Babylon. This is because the Aramaic
šēgᵊlāṯēh ûlḥēnāṯēh [for “his wives and his mistresses”] could also be
translated “his consorts and his mistresses,” because the Aramaic terms
are foreign loanwords and are difficult to translate with precision. In other
words, the Aramaic šēgal is a loanword from Akkadian ša ekalli [or
“queen”], so that the broader lexical meaning can be either “royal wife” or
“royal consort.” For example, notice that the queen of Artaxerxes was
referred to as a šēgal [Nehemiah 2:6], but the LXXθ translated it as
pallakai [or “young concubine”] from the Greek verb pallakeuō [or “to be
a concubine”]. Likewise, the Aramaic lᵊḥēnāh is a loanword from
Akkadian laḥḥinatu, which refers to a woman who has duties in a court
session [or “concubine”], but the LXXθ translated it as parakoitoi [or “one
who lies beside”]. Thus, Belshazzar had a large harem in typical oriental
fashion, and these Aramaic terms refer to various members of his harem,
including some of his concubines, though one may have had a higher
status than the others. So, Belshazzar was not simply making an innocent
mistake. Instead, he was knowingly and openly defying God, and it
remained to be seen if God would respond to Belshazzar’s challenge.

Nevertheless, the irony is that God had already answered this challenge
~150 years earlier through Isaiah as to what he would do with idolatrous
Babylon [Isaiah 46:1–2; 47:1–15], and again ~50 years earlier through
Jeremiah about Babylon’s judgment [Jeremiah 50:1–2, 18; 51:7–8, 11, 41–
44, 57–58]. So, all of this was prophesied long before Belshazzar acted
arrogantly and defiantly, presuming that the gods of Babylon [and he as
their representative] would protect them. So, here is iconography of men
holding ornamental drinking cups [which the Greeks called “rhytons”] that
was common in Persia and Assyria, since these cups held wine/liquids for
drinking/libation to a deity. These two functions overlapped their feasts.
Jonathan Greer [21st century ancient Near Eastern scholar] summarizes:
“Belshazzar receives a message from Yahweh for his act of drinking from
ritual vessels looted from the Jerusalem temple. That such an act was
considered sacrilegious within the context of the story is clear enough, but
the reason for Belshazzar’s original and seemingly odd request for
temple vessels is not given. Does this portrayal of drinking from ritual
vessels reflect actual practice from an earlier time period, now
225
incorporated into the Hellenistic form of the tale? Or is the scene simply
the creation of an imaginative storyteller and devoid of any authentic
Mesopotamian connection? If there is resonance with actual practice,
what might have been the significance of such an action in Mesopotamia,
and why might this element have been included in the story? We need to
explore this act of drinking from ritual vessels in Daniel 5 against the
backdrop of cultic feasting in Mesopotamian sources. The portrayal of
Belshazzar was rooted in the practice of the royal consumption of the
‘leftovers’ of sacrifices offered to the gods, attested in Neo–Assyrian and
Neo–Babylonian texts and images, and perhaps signified in the common
artistic motif of ‘the king and the cup.’ Viewed in this light, the nature of
the violation of Belshazzar’s drinking is clarified, and the portrayal of this
practice in the story may be seen as polemic against the notion of a
divine association with kings relevant throughout the various stages of
the story’s formation. The story of Belshazzar’s feast is known in at least
three distinct versions. First, there is the Aramaic version contained in the
Masoretic Text, and represented in fragmentary material from Qumran
(4QDaniela and 4QDanielb, both early–mid 1st century BC manuscripts)
and echoed in Greek Theodotion. Second, we have the Greek version
identified as the Old Greek, represented in Hexaplic editions: the Syro–
Hexapla (7th century AD) and Codex Chisianus (9th–11th centuries AD)
and at least one pre–Hexaplaric papyrus (Papyrus 967, 2nd–3rd centuries
AD). Third, we have the so–called ‘Preface’ (contained in the same texts
witnessing the Old Greek), a duplicate account placed before the longer
Old Greek version, summarizing what was likely a third independent
version of the story. Discussion continues among those prioritizing the Old
Greek, others prioritizing the Masoretic Text (followed by Greek
Theodotion), and yet others seeing the Preface as a summary of the
earliest version of the story, while a growing number of scholars suggest
that each of the traditions stem from a common source or oral tradition.
Such diversity among the versions of this story (and others in Daniel’s
book as a whole), along with differing canonical placements and
additional Qumran allusions to Danielic literature, suggest that the form
of the story in Daniel’s book in the Masoretic Text represents a later
‘crystalized’ stage in its development rather than a standard or ‘final’
form. However, most situate the origin of the story (whether oral or
written) in the Persian or early Hellenistic period when it apparently
enjoyed some degree of independent circulation in a Hebrew and/or

Aramaic form prior to being incorporated as part of a ‘story collection’ of
Court Tales represented in Daniel 1–6 (or Daniel 2–6, or Daniel 2–7).
While the actual form of the earliest versions of the story of Belshazzar’s
feast, or any of the other Court Tales, may now be obscured by the hand of
the compliers of the story collections, these tellers were no doubt closer to
the Neo–Babylonian and Persian contexts that provide the literary
setting for the stories we see represented in the later versions. As such,
many have recognized the value of Mesopotamian sources for providing
background information for a number of the motifs portrayed in these
stories—whether as memories from the Neo–Babylonian or Persian
periods, recalled to provide the setting for the literary creations, or as
contemporary realities of Persian or Hellenistic diaspora communities in
Mesopotamia, where certain customs from earlier periods were
maintained. Examples of Mesopotamian ‘colouring’ include historical
connections (though sometimes obscured in the apparent merging of
historical realities from the reigns of Nebuchanezzar II and Nabonidus),
as well as institutional and cultural associations. Among the latter,
specific connections have been made between the fiery furnace episode in
Daniel 3 and actual practice known from Mesopotamian sources, as well
as between the lions’ den episode of Daniel 6 and the ‘literalization’ of a
literary motif found in texts (transforming the metaphor of a ‘pit of lions’
into a literal description). These examples are in addition to general
connections concerning settlers from Yehud in the region of Babylon, the
customs of the Neo–Babylonian and Persian courts, and the incorporation
of Akkadian, Aramaic, and Persian vocabulary. Thus, here I aim to add to
this growing list of examples of Mesopotamian motifs employed in the
Court Tales by spelling out a connection between Belshazzar’s drinking
from the temple vessels in Daniel 5 and examples of similar practices in
Mesopotamian sources before exploring their significance. Just as
Belshazzar’s act of drinking occurs within the context of a feast,
Mesopotamian examples of drinking from ritual vessels also come from
descriptions, both literary and iconographic, of feasts. These feasts are
mostly confined to the royal realm and closely related to the ‘feasts’ of the
gods, namely sacrificial offerings. Indeed, a fundamental aspect of
‘sacrifice’ in many ancient Near Eastern societies was the belief that
deities, like humans, desired and even required food. Allusions are found
in Egyptian, Hittite, and Ugaritic literature, as well as in biblical texts, but
nowhere is this notion more apparent than in Mesopotamian texts that
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describe the ‘feeding of the gods.’ While the ways in which sacrifice was
conceptualized is not always clear, the texts themselves are unapologetic
and matter–of–fact in their descriptions of the various ‘meals’ provided
for the deities. Evidence from Assur and elsewhere suggests that meals
were offered two to four times daily, with extra offerings made during
festivals. The table was set, food was prepared and presented before the
‘birthed’ image whose mouth had been ‘opened’ through incantations, and
the god ate and drank. Still, detailed knowledge of the rituals of sacrifice
and the ‘meals’ of the gods in 1st millennium BC Mesopotamia was
confined to the ministering priests and the king alone, and little is left of
their accounts. The few prescriptive texts that have survived are hardly
comprehensive manuals, perhaps each serving as more of an aide–
m moire, and the extant descriptive texts and temple records mostly
consist of receipts concerning the transportation of foodstuffs. What does
seem clear from what is extant in Neo–Assyrian and Neo–Babylonian texts
is that the complete immolation of a sacrificial victim by fire comparable
to the ‘burnt offering’ of ancient Israel was only rarely practiced in this
period. Thus, an understanding of what actually happened in a material
sense to the food and drink that was presented to, but not physically
consumed by, the deity in the ritual meal remains somewhat clouded. That
said, contrary to later polemical assertions that the priests secretly ate the
offerings such as one finds in Bel and Dragon, it seems clear that the
Mesopotamian priests understood the transformation from ‘offerings’ to
‘food for the gods’ in a symbolic or multi–dimensional way, and that there
was no pretending that the offerings had vanished. In fact, certain texts
contain instructions for ‘clearing the table’ after the god finished his
meal, implying full recognition of the physical presence of the food and
drink. A number of Neo–Assyrian texts provide details about what came
next in their specification that the ‘leftovers’ (rēḫāti) from the offerings to
the gods—all of the food items that were offered—were sent to the king for
his banquet (SAA 13, 156:3–10; SAA 15, 218:8–11). Human consumption
of the remains of sacrifices offered to the gods was not unheard of in the
ancient Near East and, in fact, gifts from the ‘king’s table,’ often
sacrificial remains incorporated into a royal banquet, were at times
redistributed not only to the royal court but also to priests and patrons as
gifts to leverage power. In the Neo–Assyrian context, special emphasis
was placed on the person of the king and his primary, if not exclusive,
right to the sacrificial leftovers. When such boundaries were transgressed,

punishment was meted out as one may observe in the demotion of a
presumptuous priest who consumed sacrificial offerings mentioned in a
certain Neo–Assyrian letter (SAA 13, 18:2–9). Once the king received the
leftovers and they were incorporated into his royal banquet, the food and
drink would have apparently absorbed some sacred import from their
original status as an offering to the gods, transforming an episode of
feasting into a sacred event. Indeed, the sacred banquet motif and its
connection with royal feasting has a long history in Mesopotamia
stretching back well into the 2nd millennium BC, if not before, with
influence that was felt throughout the Mediterranean world in later
periods. Such feasting events were utilized by these ancient monarchs to
create and maintain power structures by associating themselves with the
deity in order to validate their sovereignty and exercise authority over
their subjects. In texts from Assur and in iconographic representations,
sacred banquets were often juxtaposed with descriptions of sacrifices in
literary and pictorial forms. The details of food type and amount and even
the order of presentation of ritual offerings to the gods are parallel to the
same details of food type, amount, and presentation order in the royal
banquet that follows. Indeed, these details may be seen to confirm that the
king in fact feasted on the sacrificial leftovers. Thus, in addition to
confirming that the king in fact feasted on the sacrificial leftovers, these
materials provide particular details concerning the types of food—and
drinks—consumed. Though the term rēḫāti (‘leftovers’) is more frequently
employed for different forms of meat, especially in later periods, the
semantic range is broad enough to incorporate liquid offerings as well. In
fact, since the Assur texts are best understood as lists of leftovers taken
from, rather than offered to, the deity, one observes that wine, beer, and
milk were explicitly included in the rēḫāti. Though these texts have often
been understood as describing offerings made to the deity, the language is
quite clear in describing that these are what are afterwards taken from the
deity’s presence (the ‘divine leftovers’). Indeed, in a few cases they are
explicitly named rēḫāti sǎpān Asš r (‘leftovers of what was offered before
Ashur’). Thus, divine leftovers consumed by the king, according to these
texts, included not only food but also drink. It is also interesting to note
that manuals describing the tākultu festivals detail the opening toasts and
the invocation of the deity to ‘drink!’ (s t ). But, if libations were poured
out before the deity, how could they be consumed later by the king? While
it is clear that libations were poured out upon the ground in a number of
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instances, libations were at least sometimes poured into a vat, and that the
libated wine in the vats may then have been imbibed by the king, perhaps
paralleling a broader ancient Near Eastern custom. Irene J. Winter has
further identified an ethnographic parallel with a Vaisnavite
libation/bathing ritual in which liquids are first poured over the image of
a deity, then collected, and finally distributed to devotees for drinking—
notably poured into the devotees’ cups from the same vessels that were
used to pour the libation over the deity. Indeed, several texts speak of
‘libations of the vat’ (maq sǎ hariu), presumably referring to libations
poured into vats, as well as libations poured into the ‘eating bowl’
(mākassu) before the deity (SAA 20, 25, 26). One letter of complaint
against a certain lamentation priest clearly describes this practice and
then makes explicit the connection between the libated wine and the king’s
allotment (SAA 13, 134). In describing this regular custom, the text states,
‘They would fill the wine with the one golden bottle in front of Bel and the
one in front of Nabu. They would be decanted. The wine was the palace
allotment.’ Such actions apparently were not entirely confined to the royal
realm, as a text describing an initiation rite for the secrets of Ishtar clearly
notes libation of beer into a pithos (SAA 20, 29:7). In another, an official
blesses and gives drink from what may have been libated wine to a master
of a banquet of Gula (SAA 20, 30:8). A third text (SAA 20, 55) describes
the distribution of the rēḫāti from a meal before Shamash and details the
distribution of the libations to the city scribe. While such texts illustrate
libations into vats and the redistribution of the contents, they
demonstrate that the custom may have expanded beyond the king. It is,
however, important to note that these are not offerings to Ashur, and that
in the case of the rēḫāti, other texts make clear the king’s first right to the
offerings. The royal iconography of the Neo–Assyrian corpus may provide
further graphic illustrations of these practices rooted in the close
association between drinking and offering. On the close association
between drinking and offering, it is interesting to note the difference of
opinion regarding the purpose for Room G of Ashurnasirpal’s palace, the
wall of which displays the king in the classic pose seated on his throne
with the cup balanced on his finger tips—was it a room for public libation
ceremonies or for royal banquets? For example, an examination of the
White Obelisk suggests that libations were at times poured into collection
vats, as apparently depicted in Register A3, where the king is shown
poised with a small bowl in hand over a large rounded vat with a flaring

rim on a stand in front of an incense altar and ritual table before the
temple, along with the caption: ‘B t–natḫi of the city of Nineveh: I perform
the wine libations and sacrifices of the temple of the exalted goddess.’
Thus, there can be little doubt that, at least here, the libation was collected
in a vat and not poured onto the ground. From this point, then, one may
suggest that the libations would have been carried along with the other
food to the king for his sacred banquet, as may be illustrated further in the
White Obelisk. The offering scene above flows immediately into several
banquet scenes of participants eating and drinking as depicted in two
registers (B3, C3), and repeated again in parallel portrayals (D7, A7).
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The vat into which the libation was poured is not evident in the current
state of the scenes, but it may have been worn off, since the areas where
one might expect it are significantly damaged. Further, this type of vat is
present in many other banquet scenes. Regardless, it is notable that the
same food items shown in the offering depictions are also shown laid out
before the king in the banqueting scenes. It is also interesting that the king
is drinking from a bowl of roughly the same size and shape as the libation
vessel, and it may be logical to assume that the wine he is imbibing came
from the offering vat. Another example may be observed in a pair of scenes
from the Balawat Gates of Shalmaneser III.
In one scene, the king is depicted as poised to pour out his offering into a
bulbous jar placed on a stand before the incense stand, altar, standards,
and the image. Then, in a second scene, the seated monarch is shown
about to drink from a similar bowl, while a stand is shown behind his
attendant with two larger jars that appear similar to the libation jar.
However, the damaged state of the bands as well as the position of the
stand that blocks the view of the base of the vessel in the portrayal of the
offering scene prohibits a close comparison of the vessels. Similar use of
cultic vessels and furniture in both offering and banquet scenes in the
same context may be observed in the palace reliefs of Ashurbanipal.

In this lion libation scene, while the libation is clearly poured on the
ground, one also observes a detailed depiction of an offering table,
incense stand, and a distinctly carinated shallow bowl. These very same
elements—an offering table, incense stand, and the carinated bowl—are
also displayed in the ‘garden banquet’ scene from the same palace room.
Notice that the king and his queen are eating at the same type of ritual
table used in the offering scene, and drinking from identical bowls used in
the offering scene. Furthermore, in this scene the action is bi–directional,
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centering on the king and his banquet. When one traces the origin of the
food from the left, it originates from a priest before passing into the hands
of the captured Elamite nobles and then to the king. From the right, one
traces the origin of the beverage to the type of vat into which libations are
poured, shown here with the same type of carinated bowl suspended above
its rim. Both origins would seem to suggest a connection between the food
and drink of the cultic offering and that of the royal banquet. This
depiction may have further importance as a cultic scene within Elamite
tradition, as seals from the 2nd millennium BC show gods and goddesses
in the same pose. Thus, the iconography of these scenes, and others,
correlates well to the texts considered above. In both corpora, the Neo–
Assyrian kings are described as the recipients of the divine leftovers—both
food and drink—that were to be consumed at ritual banquets. But, what
was the significance of such a practice? In its simplest form, consuming
divine leftovers could be understood as inviting the favour of the gods
through a transmuted blessing by contact with food offered to them.
Certainly, Neo–Assyrian texts echo this idea of a blessing. An expanded
understanding would place the god in the role of the king, and the king in
the role of a vassal who received food from the table of his superior. Thus,
a hierarchy was established: the king was blessed by the god in receiving
food from the sacred table, and the king’s underlings as an extension of
him, in turn, were blessed by the king in receiving food from the royal
table. But, there may be more to it than simple privilege in the receipt of
religiously–charged food and drink, and the hierarchy that was
established may not only have been scalar, but may also exhibit a symbolic
homology. Indeed, as many have noted, the role of the king took on
intensified ideological garb during the Neo–Assyrian expansion and
empire. The king described himself not only as a mediator of the gods, but
also as conceived or nurtured by the gods and even taking on his own
divine melammu, the ‘awe–inspiring splendour’ associated with Ashur.
The physical image (s lmu) of the king could even be marked with the
DINGIR sign and sacrifices may have been offered to it. Yet while the king
was in every way the image of god, the king was still human: he served the
gods in the cult, albeit as a sort of high priest, and his personal name was
never written with the DINGIR sign in inscriptions. Indeed, the king in a
sense embodied two souls: one human, as represented in his person, and
one divine, as represented in his office. Viewed from heaven, the king is
the principal divine emissary to his earthly community; viewed from
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earth, he is the principal emissary of his community before the Such mutilation was apparently carried out at the hands of the Medes
pantheon. Such ideology was used to drive the propaganda of the empire, and Babylonians upon the fall of Nineveh in 612 BC. As images were not
and consuming the leftovers of the divine was one metaphor that was merely ‘representations’ but rather manifestations of the ‘real,’ this image
easily incorporated and utilized within this framework. For example, was apparently singled out for destruction as an attack on the divinely
notice how Sargon II described receiving the divine leftovers as validation embodied king himself. A careful examination of the relief shows the
of his sovereignty upon his conquest of Babylon in 710 BC (Annals of efforts to which the iconoclasts went to remove the whole image of the
Sargon II, 311–313), or how the succession of the crown prince bowl. The proposition that the bowl is the object of the destruction, rather
Ashurbanipal was confirmed by his receipt of the divine leftovers that were than the hand may be supported by noting that in the image of
usually reserved for king Esarhaddon alone (SAA 16, 106, r1–8). This Sennacherib receiving booty from Lachish that was subject to this same
sacred consumption, then, came to represent the nexus of human and wave of destruction in Nineveh, only the king’s face is mutilated and his
divine that the king embodied, giving him the right to rule the human right hand, without the bowl, is seemingly left intact.
world as a representative of the gods. In the artistic propaganda of the
reliefs, then, it is suggested here that the image of ‘the king and the cup’—
a ubiquitous depiction of the Assyrian monarch at this time—became a
synecdoche for this larger concept. Though this image certainly implied
the strength of wealth, even justice, of the king, it may more fully describe
the whole process of consuming the divine leftovers, itself an act that
represented the very essence of what it meant to be the embodiment of
the divine. The fact that the motif of the seated king and the cup derives
from images of deities in the very same pose only bolsters the argument in
light of the close connection with the overlap of drinking and offering
observed above. If such ideology is behind this image, it is interesting to
note that in the vandalized relief of Ashurbanipal’s ‘garden banquet,’
the iconoclast not only etched out the king’s face, but also his bowl.

Furthermore, that the iconoclast hacked out the faces of both

Ashurbanipal and his queen Ashur–Sharrat, but only Ashurbanipal’s bowl
and not Ashur–Sharrat’s bowl, may strengthen the suggestion that the
target was the motif of ‘the king and the cup,’ rather than any specific
figure holding a bowl. While these observations are potentially significant
in their own right for Assyriology, we now return to Belshazzar’s feast of
Daniel 5 and note a number of connections. The most obvious point of
general similarity is the occasion of royal dining in Daniel 5 and the
descriptions of the Mesopotamian banquets. Belshazzar makes a ‘great
feast’ for ‘a thousand’ of his lords (or ‘two thousand’ in the Preface, likely
misreading the parallelism of his Semitic Vorlage), reminiscent of the

spectacular feasts boasted about by the Assyrian monarchs, such as in
Asš r–nas r–pal II’s well–known banquet stela in which he claims to have
fed ~70,000 people for 10 days with a lavish spread. That the feast of
Daniel 5 may have cultic overtones is implied by the praising of the
various gods of gold and silver, bronze, iron, wood, and stone in the
Masoretic Text, or handmade idols in the Old Greek, or gods of the
nations made of metal or wood in the Preface, and its similarity (without
the polemic) to the invocations of various gods in the Neo–Assyrian texts
listed earlier, as well as in Neo–Babylonian and Persian examples. As an
example closer to the versions of Daniel 5, consider the banquet of Cyrus
described by Xenophon, inaugurated with sacrifices and libations. Indeed,
it may be argued that all feasting in the ancient world had a ‘religious’
component to it and there was no clear division between the sacred and
the profane in the way that such a division is regarded today. Rather,
eating events in the ancient world are better plotted on a spectrum based
on the degree to which the sacred aspects of the event are embedded in the
practices of everyday eating, on the one hand, or emphasized in a
specialized meal set apart by its focus on the intersection between the
human and divine worlds, on the other. Insofar as the Daniel story in all
extant versions identifies the invocation of various deities and that this
practice parallels accounts of banquets in Mesopotamian contexts, it
seems that the authors emphasized the sacred nature of the banquet.
Some scholars have suggested a more specific connection between the
banquet described in Daniel 5 and an ak tu festival, especially in the
Preface where it explicitly states that the festival took place ‘on the day of
the dedication of his palace,’ perhaps even a memory of an historical ak tu
for the moon–god Sin. Such may have been the basis for descriptions in
classical sources that describe the fall of Babylon as taking place during a
‘festival’ (Herodotus, Hist. 1.191 and Xenophon, Cyr. 7.5.15), or somehow
related to Cyrus’ reinstatement of the ak tu upon his victory (COS 2.124)
that may have been remembered and incorporated. Regardless of whether
or not each of the traditions envisioned the feast specifically as an ak tu
festival, the receipt of rēḫāti to provide some of the fare would fit the
context of the banquet portrayed in Daniel 5. In fact, the designation of the
event in the Old Greek as an (‘feast’) instead of as the more
typical δ χή (‘banquet’) used in the Preface and throughout Esther (1:3;
5:4, 8, 12, 14), may suggest a more direct connection between the banquet
and the sacred leftovers in that this is the same word used by the LXX for
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Hebrew (‘allowance’) in 2 Kings 25:30, convincingly derived from
Akkadian rēḫtu (singular of the plural rēḫāti) and incorporated into
Hebrew as a loanword in the Neo–Babylonian period. Notice also the
various traditions of Daniel 1:5 describing the food allotments for Daniel
and his friends. These provisions of food and wine are described in the Old
Greek as ‘leftovers from the house of the king’ and in Greek Theodotion as
daily provisions coming ‘from the table of the king.’ If the custom of the
rē āti was in the mind of the author, it is no wonder Daniel and his
friends are portrayed as rejecting the provisions. Thus, at least for the
authors of the Old Greek, or more likely for the authors of the Semitic
Vorlage behind the Old Greek, a connection between Belshazzar’s banquet
and the receipt of the rēḫāti may be suggested. This connection may stem
from an historical memory that, in fact, Belshazzar, ruling as crown prince
in Babylon, received the sacred rē āti, reserved only for the king. Such
an event would have been memorable in that it was unprecedented and
only generated by his father Nabonidus’ move to Teima that resulted in the
division of the rēḫāti between them. Such may suggest an association
between Belshazzar and kingship. More specific to the close association
between libation ‘leftovers’ and drinking observed in the Mesopotamian
sources earlier, some have suggested that the ‘praising’ of the gods in the
various accounts of the Daniel 5 banquet involved libations. While this
seems likely, as it was a common practice at ancient banquets, a more
direct parallel may be observed in the Old Greek version of the story in
which Belshazzar commands his unspecified attendants (simply ‘they’ in
the text) to bring in the sacred vessels taken from Jerusalem ‘to pour wine
into them’ before he and his entourage drink from them. The fact that the
wine is poured into ritual vessels, and then Belshazzar and his entourage
drink from them, suggests a parallel to the examples of this practice in
Mesopotamian texts and iconography outlined earlier. The type of vessel
that may have been envisioned for the drinking taking place at
Belshazzar’s feast may further connect the acts of libation and drinking, at
least within the Old Greek and Masoretic Text traditions. The Preface
lacks any reference to the vessels, and this was not an unintentional or
intentional omission by the authors of the Preface, but rather that the
particular focus on the vessels was added to the Masoretic Text and Old
Greek versions of the story for theological reasons. In this way, including
a focus on the vessels served to fill in gaps in the itinerary of the looted
temple objects as they were seen to provide continuity with the past during

the 2nd Temple period. While the vessel itself is not named explicitly in
either tradition, the most suitable vessel for drinking that would have been
among the temple treasures that ‘Nebuchadnezzar had taken from
Jerusalem’ (Daniel 5:2) would be a libation bowl, as it would be hard to
envision banqueters drinking from any of the other vessels looted from
the temple (shovels, censers, or ash pots). The likelihood that the authors
of the Court Tales drew primarily on biblical historiographic works to
provide the historical framework for their stories, as many scholars have
noted, may allow for the more specific identification of the vessel used
for drinking as a libation bowl used for collecting sacrificial blood. A
parallel of Neo–Assyrian kings using plundered temple vessels in sacred
banquets may be suggested in this relief of Sargon II’s sack of Haldi.
Such a proposal derives from the fact that the only vessels described in the
list of looted cult objects from the temple in Jerusalem (2 Kings 25:14–15)
that could have been used for drinking and that were made of gold and
silver were used in other Greek contexts for drinking and libation.
Furthermore, the act of drinking from such vessels in a sacrilegious
manner has a precedent in Amos 6:6, which may have also been recalled
by the writers, and the bowls likely in view were similar in form and
function to the bowls depicted in the reliefs above and identified
archaeologically. Thus, when the portrayal of Belshazzar and his
associates drinking from the temple vessels is considered against the
backdrop of Mesopotamian banquet descriptions, buttressed by a possible
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allusion to the rēḫāti and libation in the Old Greek and to libation vessels
in the Old Greek and Masoretic Text, a parallel between Belshazzar’s act
and the proposed custom of drinking libation leftovers may have been
intended by the authors of these versions. As such, this practice and the
image of ‘the king and the cup’ derived from it may be identified as
examples of local ‘colouring’ drawn upon by the authors of the Court
Tales. That said, while there is indeed ample evidence of continuity of
practice between the Neo–Assyrian and Neo–Babylonian periods (as has
been seen above with the rēḫāti) in particular, and also evidence of
enduring influence into the Persian and Hellenistic periods, I am not
suggesting that the crafters of the tale, whether part of a Diaspora
community in Mesopotamia or not, would have necessarily understood
every detail of the redistribution of sacrificial ‘leftovers,’ or even
consciously sought to portray this as an example of such. Rather, I suggest
that the image, both literary and iconographic, of ‘the king and the cup,’
rooted in these earlier practices, would have endured as a symbol of who
the king was and his relationship to the divine, and that Belshazzar’s
drinking from temple vessels is described in a way that resonated with that
image. If this were the case, why might this image have been
incorporated by the biblical authors? I suggest that the portrayal of
Belshazzar as ‘the king and the cup’ in the Old Greek and Masoretic Text
traditions was intended to depict him not only as guilty of sacrilege—
failing to honour the sacred nature of the temple vessels—but, even more
so, as guilty of blasphemy—rivalling Yahweh himself, the ultimate
banquet host. Notice that the ‘bronze sea’ for Solomon’s temple was
intended to be understood as a drinking bowl (1 Kings 7:26), and if the
temple was fundamentally God’s house, and he had a table and a
menorah, he will of course be lifting a drinking bowl to his lips. But,
since God is not depicted in Solomon’s temple, the enormous ‘bronze sea’
stands there as if to say that God is the ultimate host, and the ultimate
broker of power. Thus, God usurps Belshazzar’s place at the table, and
in an ironic turn of events, is the true king and host. The banquet scene
represents the epitome of royal hubris: a human king setting himself as the
head of the cult, and proclaiming some degree of divine status or
affiliation in his divine body ratified in the right to sacred leftovers, more
than a mere slight to the ‘Lord of Heaven’ (Daniel 5:22–23). Whereas
kings of this era may have been wont to portray themselves as imbued with
or sanctioned by the divine, even with or by the god of the conquered

people—notice Cyrus’ affiliation with Marduk after taking Babylon, or
Darius’ affiliation with Atum–Re after defeating Egypt—such a notion is
rejected altogether in Daniel 5. In this depiction then, the critique of the
scribes may extend beyond the person of Belshazzar, as a representative of
the Neo–Babylonian Empire, to the very notion of divine kingship itself,
represented in many of the nations around Israel. The bible as a whole
shows familiarity and interactions with ideas of divine kingship, even
preserving various perspectives on the matter. Still, the earlier notions
portrayed in certain psalms that suggest a close affiliation of Yahweh and
the king were checked by the prophetic tradition of the 8th–6th centuries BC
that launched stinging critiques at their own kings and those of the nations
around them who might have considered the human and divine bodies of
the king as closer than their Yahwism would allow. Hamilton summarizes:
‘In short, the royal body was an icon of Yahweh’s body and therefore
revelatory of the divine realm. Religion and royal cult tended to merge,
and the prophets and various biblical narrators took upon themselves the
task of limiting this merger.’ Thus, the crafters of this story, as inheritors
of the prophetic traditions, condemned Belshazzar in a way that sets this
portrayal apart from the portrayals of other kings in the Court Tales.
Belshazzar does not repent like the powerful Nebuchadnezzar, nor is he
feckless yet ultimately good–hearted like Darius. Rather, he directly faces
off against Yahweh—and pays for it with his life and his kingdom. In
this way, viewed as part of the larger story collection, we see in the
judgment of Belshazzar a direct affront to foreign powers that stands
among the otherwise subversive tales of this block of what has been called
‘resistance literature.’ Whereas the stories of Daniel with Nebuchadnezzar
and Darius may even be seen as favourable to foreign rule and
encouraging cultural integration, the story of Belshazzar’s feast ties in
more directly with the apocalyptic imagery of the second part of the book,
imagery which pulls back the curtain on the cosmic realm to reveal the
ultimate victory of Yahweh over the foreign powers whose rule is only
temporary. Notwithstanding the context of the hearers of the earliest
version of the story in the Persian or early Hellenistic periods that is
preserved in the Old Greek and Masoretic Text versions, its readers by the
time it was included as part of the larger story collection of Daniel 1–6
would have viewed the story in light of another king who had come and
set himself up as the divine incarnate: Alexander the Great. Then by the
time the story collection had fused with the visionary chapters of the rest
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of the book, yet another king had come, one claiming as his title
‘Manifest God’: Antiochus IV. Thus, at each stage, the condemnation of
‘the king and the cup’ resonated with its hearers by making a statement
about the sovereignty of the God of Israel over any king of any earthly
power who might set himself as or against the ‘Lord of Heaven.’ Yahweh
was king, and the dregs of the divine belonged to him alone.”
In summary, “wine” can be a symbol of joy [Psalm 104:15] and as such
was provided by Jesus at a wedding [John 2:3–10]. In fact, wine is even
served by God [Proverb 9:5]. But, excessive wine is unwise, leading to
inappropriate actions, words, and outcomes [Proverbs 20:1; 21:17; 23:33–
34; 31:4–5], which is why the New Testament condemns drunkenness
from wine [Ephesians 5:18]. In Belshazzar’s case, the irony is that
monarchs who think of themselves as absolute instead put themselves
under the drunken command of wine. This serves to diminish human
sovereignty in preparation for exalting divine sovereignty. Furthermore,
Nebuchadnezzar had stolen Temple treasures during the reign of
Jehoiakim in 605 b.c. [2 Chronicles 36:7], and again at the beginning of
the reign of his son Jehoiachin [2 Kings 24:13]. He further looted and
destroyed the Temple in 586 b.c. when Jerusalem fell [2 Kings 25:8, 13–
16; 2 Chronicles 36:18–19; Jeremiah 52:19], and treated these items as
holy and placed them in his temple. However, Belshazzar arrogantly used
them profanely, and according to the Torah, sacrilege involving profaning
a holy thing required a guilt offering [Leviticus 5:14–16]. Also, critical
scholars argue that Nebuchadnezzar could not be Belshazzar’s
“grandfather” if Nabonidus’ wife was not Nebuchadnezzar’s daughter.
Eugene Carpenter [21st century biblical scholar] summarizes and explains:
“Belshazzar was the son of Nabonidus (555–539 BC), the last king of
Babylon, and his reign features two especially unusual developments.
First, his devotion to the great Babylonian god Marduk waned, so he
devoted his energies to honouring and worshiping the moon–god Sin in
Harran. This angered the people of Babylon beyond measure. Second, he
placed Belshazzar his son on the throne in Babylon as regent, and he
travelled to Teima, a city in northwest Arabia. He stayed there for 10
years. This strange move, however, explains why Belshazzar can be called
the de facto king in Babylon, even though his father was king de jure while
residing in Teima. Evidently, Nabonidus returned to Babylon and fled the

night it fell (Daniel 5:30–31). He was eventually captured and executed in
Babylon, according to Xenophon (Cyropaedia 7.5.33). However,
according to Berossus, the Babylonian historian priest, Cyrus spared his
life, and according to Cyrus, Marduk delivered Nabonidus into his hands.
At any rate, this dual kingship also explains why Belshazzar offered to
make Daniel third in power in the kingdom, not second (Daniel 5:8, 16).
Nabonidus was a troubled king who experienced many dreams that drove
him to do some of the things he did. This implies that God, who certainly
worked with pagan rulers through dreams, orchestrated this whole
affair, setting up the downfall of the city of Babylon. Nabonidus’ reasons
for returning to Babylon are not recorded, but the perilous situation that
Babylon faced from the Persians was certainly one reason for his return.
In 539 BC, it is the day of the New Year Festival in Babylon and the night
of Babylon’s fall (Daniel 5:30), when Cyrus, king of Persia, received
rulership of the world according to the sovereign will of Daniel’s God
(Daniel 5:31). According to Daniel, as well as Herodotus (Histories
1.191) and Xenophon (Cyropaedia 7.5.15), wine flowed freely. The
historical records ascribe sacrilegious acts to Nabonidus toward Marduk
before and after his return that made him persona non grata in Babylon.
Daniel reveals that the crown prince Belshazzar committed unthinkable
folly by ordering that the sacred cups that had been used in the Temple
ceremonies at Jerusalem be used in this debauchery. These sacred vessels
were mentioned in Daniel 1:2. In the future, they would be returned to
the rebuilt Temple in Jerusalem by Sheshbazzar and Zerubbabel (Ezra
1:7–11), after Cyrus had ended Babylonian hegemony and turned it and
the surrounding area into a province he used as an administrative
center. It is worth noting that corruption, idolatrous practices, and
sacrilegious disrespect reach a new level in this scene in Daniel.
Nebuchadnezzar had stored those vessels in the temple of his own god, but
had not used these vessels in this way. In fact, 30 years earlier he had
‘worshiped the Most High and honoured the one who lives forever’
(Daniel 4:34) and declared the righteous character of this King of heaven
(Daniel 4:36–37). He would not have thought of desecrating the vessels
made to honour God. This king had honoured Daniel because the spirit of
the gods was in him (Daniel 4:9). But, now the focus of worship had
become gold, silver, bronze, iron, wood, and stone put into the form of
‘gods’—idols! According to Isaiah, the use and worship of idols by Israel
had played a major part in sending them into exile. In similar fashion, God
234
did not approve of the Babylonians’ worship of idols. At one point in its
history, there were in Babylon 53 temples to honour the major deities, 55
smaller shrines to honour the heavenly gods, 180 altars to Ishtar,
consort of Marduk; 180 altars to the gods Nergal and Addad, plus altars
to lesser deities. In Nabonidus’ day, the situation was even worse.”
Joe Sprinkle [21st century biblical scholar] likewise concludes and says:
“There are plausible solutions to the problem of Nebuchadnezzar being
called the ‘father’ of Belshazzar. One solution takes ‘father’ and ‘son’ to
mean contextually ‘predecessor’ and ‘successor’ since in the Aramaic Tel
Dan inscription, Hazael calls his predecessor his ‘father’ even though he
was not biologically related, and Shalmaneser III in an Akkadian
inscription calls Israel’s King Jehu ‘the son of Omri,’ even though Jehu
was a usurper and biologically unrelated to Omri. The term ‘fathers’
probably means Sennacherib’s ‘predecessors’ (2 Kings 19:12; Isaiah
37:12; 2 Chronicles 32:14). Alternatively, if ‘father’ and ‘son’ are to be
taken as biological terms, Belshazzar could be related to Nebuchadnezzar
through his mother. Hebrew/Aramaic ‫‘( אָ ב‬father’) can denote an ancestor
(Daniel 2:23; Ezra 4:15; 5:12), not only an immediate father. This is why
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob are called Israel’s ‘fathers’ (Exodus 3:16).
Belshazzar was the son of Nabonidus and Nabonidus was the son of Nabu–
balaṭsu–iqbi on his father’s side and Adad–guppi on his mother’s side.
Nabonidus’ mother was a worshiper of the moon god Sin in Harran who
left behind an autobiographical inscription in Akkadian that tells her story
and that of her son Nabonidus. This at first seems to be bad news for the
historical accuracy of Daniel. However, the name of Belshazzar’s mother
or her descent is not documented. One possibility is that Belshazzar’s
mother was a widow of Nebuchadnezzar who had already borne
Belshazzar before the 2nd marriage to Nabonidus, making Belshazzar a
direct son of Nebuchadnezzar and making Nabonidus Belshazzar’s
stepfather. Another, probably better, explanation is that one of
Nebuchadnezzar’s daughters married Nabonidus, so that Belshazzar was
the grandson of Nebuchadnezzar. This woman may be a certain
legendary queen Nitocris, mentioned by Herodotus (1.185–188), though
the reliability of Herodotus for this period is questionable. Nabonidus was
already of high rank in the court of Nebuchadnezzar before he became
king, being given the Sumerian title: LU2.LUGAL (‘man of the king’).
Nabonidus’ kinship to Nebuchadnezzar, though indirect through marriage,
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would help him legitimize his throne. It should be noted that after This powerful and melodramatic moment has inspired many artists, as
Nebuchadnezzar’s death there was a power struggle with Amel–Marduk, a depicted here by Rembrandt [17th century Dutch painter] portraying an
true son of Nebuchadnezzar, reigning 2 years (562–561 BC), Nergal– astonished Belshazzar rising from his seat during his orgy because of a
šarra–uṣur (Neriglissar) his brother–in–law reigning 3 years (559–556 hand materializing and writing while the gold and silver goblets spill their
BC), and Labashi–Marduk son of Neriglissar reigning 3 months (555 BC), wine. However, a more astonishing depiction by John Martin [19th century
before Nabonidus was made king. In this climate, every claim to English painter] showcases a panoramic spectacle of thunderstorms,
legitimacy would be used by both Nabonidus and his son Belshazzar. supernatural light flashing, and masses of people overcome by panic:
The problem with the biological explanations is that we lack the
historical evidence presently to prove or disprove it. Although Nabonidus
is not mentioned explicitly in Daniel, his existence may be implied. The
one who could interpret the ‘handwriting on the wall’ was to be given
‘third highest position’ or made ‘third ruler’ in the kingdom (Daniel 5:7,
16, 29). Why third? If Belshazzar was 2nd rank after Nabonidus, he could
only offer Daniel 3rd rank.”

3) What was Belshazzar’s reaction upon seeing the inscription? (5:5–9)

Starting with vv. 5–6, we read: “At that moment, humanlike fingers of a
hand appeared near the lampstand of the royal palace and wrote on the
plaster of the wall. While the king watched the back of the hand as it was
writing, his facial expression changed. Utterly terrified, his legs collapsed
and his knees began knocking together.”

Notice that there is a dark–robed Daniel with gestures mirroring the statue
of Jupiter behind him [entwined by a serpent], and overlooking beyond the
mile–long dance floor [past the mix of Indian, Egyptian, and Babylonian
architecture] we see gardens, temples, and the infamous Tower of Babel.
Thus, notice how quickly the mood of Belshazzar’s banquet orgy changed!
In a miraculous act, God caused an anthropomorphic hand to appear and
write letters on the wall of the royal palace, where the inscription
“appeared near the lampstand.” The Aramaic neḇraštāʾ [for “lampstand”]
is a loanword from Old Persian nibrāza [or “a brightly burning lamp”].
Thus, these letters appeared on the wall where they could best be seen,
which means the written inscription was not merely something seen in a
vision by the king alone, for it was clearly visible later when the wise men
arrived, and later still when Daniel was brought in.

Nevertheless, some scholars have argued that only Belshazzar saw the
handwriting! In other words, although the narrative implies that everyone
could see the inscription, its message will concern Belshazzar more than
the people he represents, and the hand [which appeared for the sake of one
man] was visible to him alone! Thus, we are placed in the position of the
king, who knows neither where the hand came from nor what the writing
says. If Belshazzar alone could see the inscription, it would heighten the
prior parallel narrative where the experts needed to be able to say what
Nebuchadnezzar’s hidden dream was and to interpret it [recall Daniel 2].
Michael Segal [21st century biblical scholar] summarizes and concludes:
“Daniel 5 clearly emphasizes that it is specifically the king who sees the
hand writing, and he is the one who shows the physical and emotional
effects of this terrifying sight. In other words, the king was the only one
who saw the vision of the hand and the resulting inscription on the wall.
The text not only records the king’s reaction to the exclusion of the others
present, but also limits the description of those who saw it to him as well.
The writing actually took place and the inscription was on the wall, but it
was a revelation that was visible to the king alone. The message is
directed specifically towards Belshazzar, since, as noted at the beginning
of Daniel 5, he is the person responsible for the decision to use the Temple
vessels at the feast (vv. 2–3). The notion that the vision was revealed to
him alone is also appropriate in light of its contents, which foretell the end
of his rule because of this action (although the vision also has implications
for the Babylonian empire in general). The limitation of the vision to
Belshazzar alone also offers new insight into the emphasis that the
spectacle took form ‘on the plaster of the wall of the king’s palace
opposite the lampstand.’ The statement has generally been explained as an
attempt to emphasize that since the writing was done near a lamp, all
those present could see it. However, in light of the interpretation suggested
here, this emphasis takes on a very different meaning: it is not to inform
the reader that the writing was clearly seen by all those present; rather,
the lamp should have made the vision and the writing visible to all those
present, and yet this was not the case. By situating the writing opposite
the lampstand, the story accomplishes a two–fold task: first, it
accentuates the miraculous nature of the writing, since only the king can
see it; second, it increases the bewilderment of all those present at the
king’s claims that he has seen a hand writing on the wall.”
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Furthermore, the Aramaic verb nᵊpaq [for “appeared”] underscores the
irony by use of a subtle wordplay, because the same verb appeared in the
Hap’el stem as “taken” [vv. 2–3], but here it is in the Pa’el stem. In other
words, like nouns and adjectives, Aramaic verbs are based on a
consonantal root and a pattern, and that pattern includes both a vowel
pattern and potentially affixed consonants, which can be either prefixed or
suffixed. So, verbal patterns follow three basic stems:
1. Pe’al [the G, or basic, stem].
2. Pa’el [the D stem, which has a range of uses].
3. Hap’el [the C, or causative, stem], but the Shaph‘el [an alternate
causative stem] is most likely a form borrowed from Akkadian.
Bill Arnold [21st century biblical scholar] extensively explains the details:
“The opening verses of Daniel 5 tell of Belshazzar’s banquet and his
command to use the sacred vessels from Jerusalem. In the narrator’s
description of the vessels, we are twice told they were ‘brought forth’
(haphel of nĕpaq, vv. 2–3). Then in v. 5, the same verb is employed, this
time in the peal. The qĕr ʾ has npqh. The recently published manuscript of
4QDana contains this verse. But unfortunately, the surface of the leather is
lost precisely at the end of this word, and it is impossible to discern
whether the kĕtîb or qĕr ʾ was used. Ginsberg’s argument is that the the
waw of the kĕtîb is miswritten for a yod, and that the reconstructed form
nĕpahî preserves a feminine plural distinct from the masculine in the
perfect. The subject is now the fingers of a human hand, which wrote a
divine message of doom. This is an example of subtle polysemantic
wordplay, in which the same word is deliberately used with a calculated,
ironic nuance. The play is metaphonic, since it depends on the use of a
verbal root in different derived stems (peal and haphel). Following the
lead of modern sociolinguistic studies, we may call vv. 1–4 as an
‘orientation’ where the time, place, and persons of the narrative are
identified. These verses display several interesting narrative techniques.
Belshazzar is unceremoniously introduced with the terse statement that he
gave a great feast for his leading heads of state (v. 1). The reference to
drinking wine clearly forms an inclusio with the opening word of v. 4,
marking these verses as a literary unit. The most interesting feature in this
orientation is the repetition of the basic content of v. 2 in v. 3. Of course,
repetition is a dominant, perhaps the dominant literary technique in

biblical narrative poetics. But as literary critics have long since
understood it, repetition is not redundancy. It often serves an intensifying
role or signals an important concern of the narrator by making an ever so
light variation in wording or phraseology in the repeated material.
Sometimes the same information is given twice in close proximity. It is
not for the benefit of the reader; he would not have forgotten so soon.
But it is not redundant, because it signals that an additional point of
view is entering the narrative. The principle is the same and applies
directly to vv. 2–3, where the narrator repeats his description of the
vessels from Jerusalem. This is an example of what Alter refers to as
‘phrasel repetition,’ in which entire statements are repeated with small but
important changes in what usually looks at first glance like verbatim
repetition: ‘Many of the psychological, moral, and dramatic complications
of biblical narrative are produced through this technique.’ Because of the
verbatim repetition here, the subtle changes in v. 3 are full of meaning.
The narrator carefully omits any details that might overburden the
repetition. Thus, v. 3 omits wĕkaspāʾ (‘and silver’) in its description of the
vessels and avoids repeating the name ‘Nebuchadnezzar’ but there is one
addition to v. 3. Three important words are inserted into the narrator’s
description of the Temple. Not only is this the Temple in Jerusalem, but the
Temple which is the house of God (dî–b t ʾĕlāhāʾ) in Jerusalem! Certainly
the author did not feel there was ambiguity in v. 2. It is inconceivable that
his readers could have confused ‘the Temple in Jerusalem’ with some
other sacred building. Instead, this is the phrase which gives us the
narrator’s point of view and emphasizes his concerns. This ravenous act
of Belshazzar was more than drunken recklessness. It was blasphemy
against the God of Israel, whose Temple is in Jerusalem. The emphasis on
human rebellion communicated so forcefully through phrasal repetition
prepares the reader for the play on the term nĕpaq. After its double use in
vv. 2–3, the narrator skilfully turns the tables in v. 5, both literarily and
theologically. The syntax of v. 5 serves to heighten the effect. The word
order itself is not particularly striking. Indeed, word positions are less
rigid in biblical Aramaic than in biblical Hebrew. But it is interesting to
note that the new sentences in vv. 1–2 begin with subject–verb sequence,
and v. 6 continues with this order. By contrast, the order is reversed in v.
5, the verb’s position coming before the subject and immediately after the
emphatic bah–ša atâ (‘at this very moment,’ ‘at once,’ or ‘suddenly’).
Randall John Buth has recently described biblical Aramaic as a post–field
237
language based on a verb–subject–object pattern. But the verb is so
frequently the second constituent of a clause, he concedes that biblical
Aramaic is ‘a verb–subject–object language in which verb–initial or verb–
subject clauses are not a majority or plurality.’ In terms of functional
grammar, this example in v. 5 is a ‘foregrounded’ construction marking a
main event of the story. In summary, the narrator is intentionally using
the wordplay in v. 5 to dramatize divine retribution against human sin,
and the irony is that he uses the same verb, albeit in different derived
stems, to denote both sin and punishment. Further evidence that the
narrator is using nĕpaq as a paronym in v. 5 may be adduced from its
semantic range of meaning. Naturally the range is limited in biblical
Aramaic because of the limited size of the corpus. But also the verb nĕpaq
only occurs 11 times in biblical Aramaic. This verb is common in extra–
biblical Aramaic and occurs frequently both in peal (‘to go out’) and
haphel (‘to bring forth’). Five of those occurrences are in the simple active
stem (peal) carrying the basic meaning ‘go,’ or ‘come out.’ Five are in the
simple causative (haphel) and are used in a phrase similar to v. 2: ‘the
gold and silver vessels which Nebuchadnezzar brought forth from the
temple.’ The five peal occurrences are Daniel 2:13–14; 3:26; 7:10, and
Daniel 3:26 best illustrates this basic meaning of nĕpaq, in which
Nebuchadnezzar commands the three Hebrew children to ‘come forth out
of the fiery furnace and come here.’ The haphel occurrences are Ezra
5:14; 6:5; Daniel 5:2–3, and all refer to bringing forth vessels of worship
from a temple. The 11th and last occurrence is the peal of Daniel 5:5,
which is used in a unique way. Whereas all the other occurrences of
nĕpaq are clearly ‘go/come out,’ here something like ‘appear’ is intended.
The peal in Daniel 5:5 is atypical, and the occurrences of the haphel in
vv. 2–3 prepare for the distinctive peal in v. 5. Thus, the peal of Daniel
5:5 is a fashioned and calculated paronym which expands the natural
connotations of nĕpaq. The purpose of the wordplay is clear. The two
occurrences of the haphel (vv. 2–3) emphasize the arrogant blasphemy of
Nebuchadnezzar. Then the paronym in v. 5 subtly, and without
mentioning God directly, introduces the divine reaction to human
insolence. This skilful use of nĕpaq uses irony to contrast the arrogance
of human rebellion with the omnipotence of God’s response.
Nebuchadnezzar may have exercised his royal power in capturing the
sacred vessels, but now God exercises his divine prerogative in bringing
the blasphemy to an end. The powerful effect of the divine response in v. 5

is made more riveting by v. 4, which is the orientation’s climax in
profanation. While Belshazzar drank from the vessels of Yahweh, he
praised the worthless deities of gold, silver, bronze, iron, wood, and stone.
The use of nĕpaq in v. 5 demonstrates God’s response both to Belshazzar’s
mindless sacrilege and to Nebuchadnezzar’s former arrogance in
‘bringing forth’ the vessels from God’s temple.”
Furthermore, the “humanlike fingers of a hand” signified a certain irony
for the king [later in vv. 23–24]. Belshazzar’s purpose as a king on earth
was to bring glory to God, but God held Belshazzar in his hand!
Belshazzar was nothing more than a puny king in God’s hand. Thus, in
this moment of judgment, the Babylonian deities were unable to speak out
or even raise so much as a finger to help Belshazzar, and since Belshazzar
did not recognize God in whose hand his life rested, God sent a “hand” to
spell out the divine judgment for Belshazzar. Also, the Aramaic gîr [for
“plaster”] can also mean “whitewash,” suggesting that the walls of the
palace were coated in a whitewashed plaster, especially since the LXXθ
translated it as koniama [or “stucco, plaster, whitewashing”], from the
masculine form koniatēs [or “plasterer, whitewasher”]. In other words, the
walls of Babylon, according to archaeological excavations, were covered
with “plaster” created from white gypsum.
Stephen Miller [21st century biblical scholar] says: “The surface of the wall
was ‘plaster’ that was composed of chalk or lime. Koldewey, who led a
number of excavations at Babylon beginning in March 1899, commented
that the walls of the throne room ‘were washed over with white gypsum.’
Against this white wall any writing (and the moving hand) would have
stood out clearly. Archaeologists have been unearthing the ancient ruins
of Babylon for over 100 years, and Koldewey may have discovered the
very room where this event took place. The miraculous encounter
obviously transpired in one of the king’s palaces in Babylon, surely in the
principal residence, which was located in the southern citadel and covered
approximately 350 yards by 200 yards. Off of the largest of the palace’s
five courtyards was a huge chamber (170 ft. by 56 ft.) with three entrances
that Koldewey identified as the throne room, and most scholars would
agree with this identification. Koldewey reports: ‘It is so clearly marked
out for this purpose as a throne–room that no reasonable doubt can be felt
as to its having been used as their principal audience chamber. If anyone
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should desire to localise the scene of Belshazzar’s eventful banquet, he
can surely place it with complete accuracy in this immense room.’ Along
one of the long walls, as Koldewey described it, was a niche opposite the
entrance in which Koldewey suggests the king’s throne stood. Larue
provides a further description of this beautiful room: ‘On the external
facade, against a background of dark blue glazed bricks, were tall
columns of yellow glazed bricks topped with bright blue Ionic capitals with
double volutes linked by palmettos. A frieze of white rosettes ran above the
columns and the entire pattern was framed with a border of glazed squares
of alternating yellow, black, and white. Other motifs reconstructed by the
German archaeologists out of the thousands of fragments of shattered tile
included scorpions, serpents, panthers, lions, and mythological monsters.
The interior of the throne room appears to have been relatively simple.
The roof was constructed of cedar and the windowless walls were
whitewashed. The doorways had thresholds of bronze and traces were
found of cedar doors covered with bronze.’”
Thus, because this miraculous “hand” wrote on the “plaster” of the palace,
“his facial expression changed. Utterly terrified, his legs collapsed and his
knees began knocking together.” He was completely unnerved by this
spectacle! Nevertheless, the proper translation and interpretation of the
Aramaic qiṭr ḥarṣēh mištārayin [for “his legs collapsed”] is difficult,
specifically because of the hapax word ḥăraṣ [“loins,” “hip,” or “thigh”].
Furthermore, LXXΟ omitted the phrase, but LXXθ rendered it as hoi
sundesmoi tēs osphuos autou dieluonto [or “the bonds/sinews/ligaments of
his loins were loosening/weakening”]. So, this translation nuance of
“loins” is clear, despite the ambiguity of the phrase as a whole. But, other
scholars argue against the meaning “hip” or “thigh” in favour of a unique
interpretation that he lost control of his sphincter muscles because of four
manifestations of fear in descending order: face, heart, loins, and knees.
Thus, Belshazzar became undone from head to toe as a ripple of fear
traversed his terrified body, and he was unable to control his bodily
wastes. In other words, the Aramaic can be translated: “he soiled himself.”
Albert Wolters [21st century biblical scholar] summarizes and explains:
“The Aramaic words wĕqiṭr ḥarṣēh mištārayin literally means ‘the knots
of his loins were loosened/untied.’ This graphic description of the king’s
terror details in descending order four bodily manifestations of fear: the

blanching of the face, the anxiety of the mind (that is, the heart), the
loosening of the loins, and the knocking of the knees. A ripple of fear
traverses the terrified king’s body. Three of the elements of this description
are familiar human manifestations of fear. But what are we to make of the
phrase ‘the knots of his loins were untied’? There is little dispute about the
literal meaning of the three Aramaic words involved: qĕṭar means ‘knot’;
ḥǎraṣ means ‘loins’ and the hithpaal of šĕrâ means ‘be loosened/untied.’
But what do they mean in combination and in context? On this point there
is great confusion in the versions, lexica, and commentaries. It is
especially the phrase qiṭr ḥarṣēh that poses a problem. What are the
‘knots of his loins’? Do they refer to the ‘joints of the hip,’ to the lower
vertebrae, or simply to ‘every limb’? It is perhaps not surprising that a
number of versions do not translate this obscure phrase and its verb at all.
The trouble is that the anatomical referent is not clear and that no readily
recognizable manifestation of fear is being described. Leaving this
problem aside for the moment, we should also observe that the untying of
knots, expressed by the same Aramaic words, is a theme that recurs twice
in Daniel 5. After the terrified king has called on his wise men to read and
interpret the handwriting on the wall, and they have proved unequal to the
task, the queen mother enters and recommends Daniel. She says: ‘an
excellent spirit, knowledge, and understanding to interpret dreams,
explain riddles, and solve problems (mĕšār ʾ qiṭrîn) were found in this
Daniel, whom the king named Belteshazzar. Now let Daniel be called, and
he will show the interpretation’ (v. 12). So the king calls in Daniel and
says to him ‘I have heard that you can give interpretations and solve
problems (qiṭrîn lĕmišr ʾ)’ (v. 16). Daniel then proceeds to interpret the
handwriting as a divine judgment on the king, and the king is killed that
very night, paying the penalty for his sacrilege. It is striking that in this
dramatic story, which is told with a great deal of narrative artistry, there
are two more cases of the verb šĕrâ (‘loosen, untie’), construed with the
noun qiṭrîn (‘knots’). Daniel is twice described as a man who can ‘untie
knots’ for the king, and in the Aramaic text this is like an echo of the
earlier description of the king having the knots of his loins untied. The
echo is obscured in modern translations, since Daniel’s ability to ‘untie
knots’ is usually understood to have quite a different meaning. The usual
interpretation is ‘solve problems’ or the like, though a good case can also
be made for ‘unbind spells.’ Most scholars do not remark on the verbal
echo, and those that do dismiss it as insignificant on the grounds that the
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meaning of šĕrâ qiṭrîn is so different in the two contexts. Nevertheless, it is
striking that in this short and carefully constructed narrative the theme of
untying knots occurs three times in rapid succession. Is this mere
accident? I propose a solution to both the problems that I have raised: the
meaning of qiṭr ḥarṣēh mištārayin in v. 6 and the apparent echo of this
phrase in vv. 12, 16. My proposal is that v. 5 refers to the king’s panic–
stricken loss of sphincter control and that vv. 12, 16 are a mocking and
ironic allusion to this ignominious incontinence on the king’s part. It is
a matter of common knowledge that extreme fear can cause a person to
lose control over the sphincter muscles of his bladder and anus, which
results in involuntary urination and defecation. In the words of Walter B.
Cannon, ‘The involuntary voiding of the bladder and lower gut at times of
violent mental stress is well–known.’ The same phenomenon is referred to
in colourful, if somewhat vulgar, idioms in many languages. I think of
expressions like the German ‘die Hosen voll haben,’ the Dutch ‘het van
angst in de broek doen,’ or the English ‘to be scared shitless.’ All such
idioms refer to the well–known physiological effect of great fright. Our
suggestion, therefore, is that the problematic phrase qiṭrê ḥarṣēh in v. 6
refers to the sphincter muscles of the bladder and anus. This
interpretation fits the usual meaning of Aramaic ḥăraṣ (Hebrew
ḥălāṣayim), namely, ‘loins’ (often associated in the bible with the
reproductive organs), and does not require recourse to the otherwise
unattested meanings of ‘hip’ or ‘thigh.’ Furthermore, qĕṭar is an exact
etymological parallel to the word ‘sphincter’ (Greek sphinktēr), since
both are derived from verbs (Aramaic qĕṭar, Greek sphingō) which mean
‘tie up,’ ‘bind tight.’ They suggest the action of a knot which can be pulled
tight in order to constrict and close something off. This is exactly the
action of the sphincter muscles which close off the bladder and the anus.
Since the relevant sphincter muscles are under voluntary control and can
therefore be tightened or relaxed at will, they were undoubtedly felt and
known in the ancient world. Besides, the anal sphincter is directly
observable, and the anatomy of animal bladders with its sphincter muscle
would be familiar from their use as handy containers of liquids. It is not
necessary, however, to presuppose a detailed anatomical knowledge of
the sphincters on the part of the writer of Daniel. In all likelihood he is
here describing the human body in terms drawn from the familiar zĕqāʾ,
the animal skin or leather bottle used as a container for water or wine
throughout the ancient world, which had knots where the animal’s urinal

and anal orifices had been ‘tied off’ in order to make it watertight. There
are a number of references to this ‘tying off’ of skins in ancient literature
(Apuleius, The Golden Ass 3.17) and the Aramaic word for the resulting
‘ties’ or ‘knots’ was qiṭrîn (y. Šeqal. 8.50c). Since the function of these
knots was the retention of fluid and they occurred at the places
corresponding to the urethra and the anus, it is not surprising that the
same term should be applied to analogous parts of the human anatomy.
The loss of sphincter control would then be described as the ‘loosening of
the knots’ situated in the lumbar region or ‘loins.’ It is of interest to note
further that the Akkadian cognate of Aramaic qĕṭar means ‘knot’ as well,
but is also used to refer to anatomical features, which may be identified as
the sphincter muscles. The word in question is kiṣrû (in Akkadian q before
ṣ becomes k, and ṣ is here a reflex of the proto–Semitic unvoiced emphatic
interdental ṯ, which yields ṭ in Aramaic), which can refer to a ‘feature of
the extra’ and a ‘stricture in the alimentary canal.’ It is plausible to
suppose that these descriptions refer specifically to the sphincters of the
bladder and the anus, respectively. Finally, it is noteworthy that the Syriac
cognate qeṭrâ also means ‘knot’ and that the closely related Syriac noun
qaṭûrîtâ is equivalent to Latin inguen, ‘groin.’ It appears that it is not only
in the Aramaic of v. 6 that the lower abdomen is associated with
constricting ‘knots.’ The interpretation we are proposing, therefore,
respects the normal meaning of the Aramaic words in the troublesome
expression qiṭrê ḥarṣēh, identifies a clear anatomical referent for them,
and relates the phrase to a well–known physiological response induced
by fear. As far as I know, this interpretation has not been proposed before,
although there may be a veiled reference to it in F. Hitzig’s commentary
on Daniel (1850): ‘Indem die Bande sich lösen, lassen sie, was sie bisher
festgehalten haben, los.’ See also A. Rossling, who compares the king’s
reaction to the Kanonenfieber of soldiers before battle (1876). Before
leaving our discussion of v. 6, we should note that our interpretation sheds
an unexpected light on the Peshitta of Isaiah 45:1, where the phrase
‘ungird (literally ‘open’; ʾăpattēaḥ) the loins of kings’ is rendered wḥṣʾ
dmlk ʾšrʾ, ‘the loins of a king I will loosen.’ By making ‘king’ singular and
using Syriac phraseology which is closely cognate to the biblical Aramaic
of v. 6, the Peshitta translator is here creating a direct allusion to
Belshazzar’s feast and the fall of Babylon to the Persian forces under
Cyrus. In that context the reference to the opening of ‘doors’ and ‘gates’
may on one level refer to the open gates through which the Persian troops,
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without a battle, entered Babylon, and on another level be a mocking
allusion to the involuntary opening of the gates of Belshazzar’s body. If
this is correct, then our interpretation of v. 6 goes back at least to the time
of the Peshitta. We turn now to the two further instances in Daniel 5 of the
theme ‘untying knots,’ which in the light of the preceding discussion can
also be characterized as ‘mocking allusions.’ Of course I do not mean to
suggest that the queen mother and Belshazzar, when they speak of
Daniel’s ability to ‘untie knots,’ should be understood as referring directly
to the king’s incontinence. Rather, the context clearly requires the phrase
to refer to a skill that a renowned sage might be expected to possess. I
personally incline to the view that the skill in question is that of unbinding
spells and that the handwriting on the wall is experienced by the king as a
magical ‘knot’ or ‘spell.’ A strong argument in its favor is that Aramaic
qĕṭar is frequently attested in the sense ‘magical knot.’ Whatever the
correct interpretation, however, the point is that in the context of this story
the physiological meaning also comes into play, a meaning that is
unknown to the characters in the story but is obvious to the readers of the
story. In a word, we here have an example of dramatic irony involving
double entendre, a common device of playwrights. We must look at the
story from the point of view of an Aramaic–speaking Israelite audience
who had suffered much at the hands of the Babylonians. The Babylonian
king is described as first insulting the Israelite God and then, when the
latter responds with the mysterious handwriting on the wall, as being so
frightened that the ‘knots of his loins were untied.’ This ignominious
spectacle is enough to elicit hoots of derisive laughter on the part of the
audience. After the pagan wise men have failed to interpret the riddle, the
queen mother recommends the Israelite prophet Daniel, whom she
describes to the king as particularly competent to ‘untie knots’ for him.
The unwitting double entendre evokes more derisive laughter. Finally the
king himself comes face to face with Daniel—the pagan king named
Belshazzar before the Israelite prophet named Belteshazzar—and says, in
effect, ‘I understand that you can untie my knots for me.’ Again we can
imagine the audience’s uproarious laughter as the hapless pagan king
unwittingly makes a fool of himself before the prophet of God. We see
how the story uses burlesque humour to underscore the sovereignty of the
Israelite God, before whom the great kings of the earth can at a moment’s
notice be reduced to figures of fun, preparatory to being brought to justice.
It is instructive to observe how the biblical storyteller achieves this effect.

In the first occurrence of qiṭrîn with the verb šĕrâ (v. 6), he puts the phrase
in a series of four expressions describing the physiology of fear, so that the
reader has clear pointers to the physiological interpretation of ‘untying
knots’ in this context. In the second occurrence of qiṭrîn with the verb šĕrâ
(v. 12), he puts the phrase in a series of three expressions describing the
skills of a Babylonian sage, so that the reader has clear pointers to a
different interpretation of ‘untying knots’ in this context. The case is
similar in the third occurrence of the phrase (v. 16). Thus, the difference in
context clearly separates the untying of knots in v. 6 from that in vv. 12,
16, but the identity of vocabulary binds them together. It is the interplay
between difference and identity that makes the wordplay work. Modern
translations consistently obscure the wordplay because they interpret each
instance of the relevant phrase according to its immediate context. The
result is that qiṭrîn is usually taken to mean ‘joints’ in v. 6, whereas in vv.
12, 16 it is usually taken to mean ‘problems,’ even though these senses are
attested poorly, if at all, in Aramaic literature elsewhere. The two ancient
versions that contain these verses—namely, the LXX and the Peshitta—
take the wiser course of preserving the identity of vocabulary and letting
the context suggest the difference in meaning. The LXX has hoi syndesmoi
tēs osphyos autou dielyonto in v. 6, and lyōn syndesmous in v. 12, and the
Peshitta has qṭryn ḥṣh ʾštryw in v. 6, and šrʾ qṭryn in v. 12. A modern
translation would be well advised to give the literal translation ‘untying
knots’ in each case, perhaps with a footnote explaining the different
specific references. Lastly, my attention was drawn to an Ugaritic
passage in which the god El is described as losing sphincter control
when confronted by a terrifying apparition (KTU 1.114). In addition is
Sennacherib’s Annals 6.31, where fear is associated with incontinence.”
Michael Wilson [21st century biblical scholar] humorously concludes:
“The portrayal of the king’s distress is not only to be expected because of
the frightening spectacle he witnesses, but also because before this,
whenever God had moved to counter Nebuchadnezzar’s gross over–
estimation of his greatness through the imparting of dreams,
Nebuchadnezzar too was cast into a state of great distress. Indeed
recollection of those prior contexts seems to be intended because the same
words are used here to depict Belshazzar’s consternation as those used in
Daniel 2 and Daniel 4. Yet alongside this there is also an implicit contrast
between Belshazzar who fears (vv. 6, 9, 10) and Nebuchadnezzar who was
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feared (v. 19). On past occasions Nebuchadnezzar’s distress indicated his
anxiety at having lost control of the situation, and involved a premonition
of impending disaster with respect to his own rule. Similarly here
Belshazzar’s distress signals to the now intelligent reader that
Belshazzar’s kingship is in crisis. Perhaps a humorous suggestion lies in
the story that it is precisely while he is carousing that Belshazzar sees the
appearance of the human hand. Given that v. 2 may intend us to
understand that Belshazzar was already intoxicated, maybe his first
thoughts were that he had had too much to drink. First though, his face
goes white (literally, ‘his colours changed’). His mind is filled with terror.
But it is the next expression which is particularly intriguing. In v. 6 we
read: ‘the knots/joints of his loins were loosened.’ An Akkadian equivalent
is the example of the goddess Anat’s terrified reaction to ill tidings: ‘Her
feet wobble. Behind, her tendons break; above her face sweats. Bent are
the joints of her sinews; weakened are the tendons of her back.’ We are
dealing here with an instance of satirical toilet humour and an attack on
the king’s virility. He is hit exactly in the organs he has employed in his
orgiastic drinking feast; instead of having sexual intercourse with his
concubines, he becomes impotent; instead of eating and drinking, he
loses control and becomes incontinent. Belshazzar has lost control of his
bodily functions. In his terror, either his bowels evacuated filling his
‘pants’ or else his bladder, filled with too much wine, left a puddle at his
feet. Some have taken this expression to merely mean his ‘knees knocked
together and his legs gave way,’ or that ‘the joints and muscles of his hips
and back gave way and his knees smote together,’ or ‘he became limp in
every limb and his knees knocked together,’ or ‘his hip joints went slack,
and his knees began knocking together,’ or something of the kind. But
such diluted understandings do not fit well with the overall satirical
thrust of Daniel 1–6. The king who would appear powerful shows himself
to be weak. His father Nebuchadnezzar imperiously commands sages to be
called, and issues a decree that they be brought. Belshazzaar, by contrast,
responds in panic—he cries loudly for the sages to be brought. In his
terror he does not behave in a regal and dignified manner. He has lost
control of himself. This loosening of his loins is not only highly
embarrassing for the king, but it also implies impotence. The king’s sexual
prowess and power is inferred by the presence of many wives and
concubines, but this stands in sharp contrast to a king who has had the
contents of his bowels frightened right out of him.”

Finally in vv. 7–9, we read: “The king cried out to bring in enchanters,
Chaldeans, and astrologers. He announced to the advisors of Babylon,
‘Whoever can read this writing and tell me its meaning will be clothed in
purple, have a gold chain placed around his neck, and will become the
third highest ruler in the kingdom.’ Then all the king’s advisors came in,
but they were unable to read the writing or tell the king what it meant. So
King Belshazzar became even more frightened, and his facial expression
showed it. His officials also were thrown into confusion.”
Since Belshazzar realized that this situation was beyond his understanding,
he sought superstitious help from the Babylonian occult system, notably
those who were skilled in dream interpretations and astrology. He believed
that the writing involved an appropriation of Mesopotamian techniques of
mantic writing. But, these diviners will be defeated by their own method!
Carol Newsom [21st century biblical scholar] says: “That the king calls for
mantic experts to read and interpret the inscription indicates that he
understands it to be an omen, a form of divine writing that communicates
the will of the gods in coded fashion. This is quintessentially a
Mesopotamian concept of divine communication. Astronomical omens
were referred to as ‘heavenly writing,’ and omen priests would pray that
the god’s answer to an inquiry would be found ‘written’ on the liver of the
sheep they were about to examine. The genre of mukallimtu
commentaries textualized omens and interpreted them according to a
variety of sophisticated hermeneutical techniques, some of which are
similar to those used by Daniel. This means of communicating the divine
will is sharply different from what prevails in pre–exilic Israelite and
Judean contexts. There the favoured means is the prophetic oracle, which
is generally not coded, though occasionally symbols may be used (Amos
7:7–9; 8:1–2). That a Jewish author should represent divine
communication in this fashion suggests the ways in which a Diaspora
people in an imperial setting might appropriate and hybridize aspects of
the dominant religion. The assumptions and interpretive techniques that
one sees in this narrative are further developed in Jewish scriptural
interpretation at Qumran and in certain forms of rabbinic exegesis. In
both cases the scriptures are treated as esoteric communications from God
requiring expert interpretation. The categories of mantic experts called by
the king are a subset of those named in Daniel 2:2; 4:7; 5:11.”
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Thus, if anyone could read and interpret the inscription, the king offered:
1. A reward of being “clothed in purple.” This was the colour of
royalty in antiquity and signified a great elevation in the rank and
status of the person [Esther 8:15].
2. A reward of having “a gold chain placed around his neck.” The
Aramaic hamnîḵ [for “chain”] is a loanword from the Persian
hamyānak [either “armband,” “neckband,” or “neck ornament”],
perhaps denoting a collar on the garment rather than a chain. Thus,
it had some significance of importance in the Babylonian culture.
3. A reward to “become the third highest ruler in the kingdom.”
Technically, the Aramaic ṯaltî [for “third”] relates to the noun tᵊlaṯ
[or “a third part”], but ṯaltî lost its numerical significance.
Stephen Miller [21st century biblical scholar] says: “There are
three primary views concerning its significance here. First,
Montgomery argues that the term is reminiscent of Akkadian šalšû,
which was a title meaning ‘Thirdling’ or ‘Triumvir,’ similar to
Hebrew šâlîš. The Akkadian term eventually came to designate
simply an official, having lost any numerical sense. Therefore the
terms in Daniel may simply represent a high official. A number of
problems are involved with this view. First, the wise men already
were of high rank, and elevation merely to the position of a high
official would not seem significant. Second, the other rewards
offered indicated more than the status of high official, the purple
robe even suggesting that the interpreter would be promoted to
royalty. Third, if Montgomery is correct, Daniel should have used
the Akkadian loan word for ‘šalšu–officer’ instead of the Aramaic
word for ‘third’. Such is precisely the case in Daniel 3, where loan
words employed for the various officials are transliterated into
Aramaic. Why would the author not do the same here? In light of
Daniel 6:2, which speaks of three rulers of equal rank (and uses a
similar word, tĕlātāʾ, ‘three’), Lacocque favours a second view,
that the term ‘third’ refers to a triumvir who would rule one–third
of the kingdom equally with two other persons, in this case
Belshazzar and another unnamed individual. However, equal rank

in the kingdom could not have been promised, for Belshazzar did
not have the authority to confer such a position. He certainly was
not able to promote the interpreter to a rank equal with his father,
Nabonidus, even if he could have promised equality with himself.
The most likely view is that the interpreter was to be promoted to
the 3rd position of authority in the kingdom. Literally the text reads,
‘and third in the kingdom he will rule,’ most naturally implying
‘third one’ in rank. Such a reward was quite reasonable under the
circumstances. The king had received a divine message from a
deity, surely the God whom he had just blasphemed. The Persian
armies were outside the walls, and Babylonian forces already had
suffered defeats at their hands. He was in desperate straits and
would have been willing to give all within his power to anyone who
could help him. Third position in the kingdom was the highest
honour he could confer. This raises the question of the identity of
the 3rd person—other than Belshazzar and the dream interpreter.
Montgomery contends that if three rulers were involved, the 3rd
would be the queen–mother, but there is no evidence that the
queen–mother ever possessed such authority during the Neo–
Babylonian period. Dougherty argues in light of the known
historical circumstances the most reasonable view is to identify
the 3rd person as Belshazzar’s father, Nabonidus.”
So, despite these attractive rewards, none of the Babylonian wise men
were able to read or interpret the inscription. Why? Three equal reasons:
1. Even if these were Aramaic words [which they all understood], we
do not know what script that it was actually written in.
2. The real issue was the significance of the words, and seeing
isolated words without a context would be extremely difficult to
interpret since they did not even form a complete sentence [and not
having a vowel pointing further complicated the problem].
3. It was a polemic against their system if they could not read or
interpret the writing. In other words, despite all their knowledge
derived from their divination texts, Daniel was able to demonstrate
the superiority of Israel’s God over the Babylonian gods.
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Eugene Carpenter [21st century biblical scholar] summarizes and says:
“This chapter is tied intimately to the preceding chapters of the book, as it
sounds the death toll for the Babylonian Empire and its last reigning king,
Belshazzar. In addition to the mention of wine, holy vessels from the
Jerusalem Temple, Nebuchadnezzar’s rape of the holy Temple (Daniel 1),
idols of gold (Daniel 3), the king’s court of astrologers and enchanters,
there is a laudatory historical review of Daniel’s position at the royal
court of Nebuchadnezzar (vv. 10–12) by the queen mother and
confirmation of that history by Belshazzar (vv. 13–14). Daniel gave a
positive review of the reign of Nebuchadnezzar and his humble response to
God’s chastisements, including his insanity (vv. 17–21). So, the preceding
chapters are prologues to the tragic demise of the Babylonian king and
his kingdom in this chapter. The reasons why Belshazzar and the current
sacrilegious conditions in the kingdom were to be brought to an end are
spelled out in vv. 22–24 (much as the fall of northern Israel is explained in
2 Kings 17). The worship of idols and the refusal to honour God could not
be tolerated further. There would be no extension of time for this king and
his authority, as there had been for Nebuchadnezzar’s reign. The first
kingdom of the head of gold is passing away, a momentous event in God’s
orchestration of history, and the kingdom of Persia under Cyrus is given
the temporary rulership of the nations (Daniel 1:21; 6:28; 10:1; 2
Chronicles 36:22; Ezra 1:1–7; Isaiah 44:28; 45:1–2, 13). The response of
Belshazzar to the handwriting on the wall shows his total emotional and
physical trauma from this horrifying event. His reaction is itself shocking
and puzzling. By this time, the rise of the Persians had become a dark
spectre haunting the Babylonian kingdom (the evident references to Persia
in vv. 25, 28). When this blasphemous and unjust ruler was faced with the
charges and claims of unrighteousness, fear and dread resulted. He was
guilty; there was no way out. In the words of Cyrus the Great,
Nabonidus, and by implication his son, Belshazzar, were persons of no
account (COS 2.124, lines 9–19). The panic of Belshazzar’s hopeless
condition shows in his pitiful offer to reward anyone of his experts who
could do their job. By contrast, Nebuchadnezzar had threatened to kill all
of the wise men if they did not inform him of his dream and its meaning
(Daniel 2:5, 8–9, 12–13). This situation reiterates the uselessness and
vanity of the Babylonian enchanters, astrologers, fortune–tellers, and
other advisers to the king. When God reveals himself, only his chosen
prophets are able to interpret his actions and messages. Daniel’s special

ability in the languages and literature of Babylon (Daniel 1:4, 17) was
observed early in the reign of Nebuchadnezzar. Now, years later, he
would use that gift to honour God by announcing judgment upon
Belshazzar and the passing of rulership to the Persians, as he had
described to Nebuchadnezzar (Daniel 2:39; 7:4, 17). The nation that had
destroyed his people would be judged (Isaiah 43–47; Jeremiah 50–51).
Although the Babylonian experts could probably read the words of this
inscription (whether in Babylonian or Aramaic), they could not discern the
significance of the words for the king. This was perhaps out of fear (Daniel
4:19) but also because they were not attuned to spiritual realities. They
needed Daniel’s interpretation. From Daniel’s perspective, which was
already informed by God’s sovereign plans for history based on the events
of Daniel 1–4 and Daniel 7–8, the message was a clear judgment from
God: The nation of Babylon was to be destroyed because it did not
measure up to God’s demands of righteousness and mercy, and of the true
worship of God (Daniel 4:27; 5:22–24).”
4) Why did the queen recommend Daniel? (5:10–12)
Starting with v. 10, we read: “Hearing the voices of the king and his
officials, the queen entered the banquet hall. ‘Your majesty, live forever,’
the queen said. ‘Don’t be frightened by your thoughts or allow your facial
expression to show it.’”
Although the “queen” was not present, news about the scene in the
banquet hall quickly spread throughout the palace. The Aramaic malkᵊṯāʾ
[for “queen”] can also mean “queen mother,” but this generates a crucial
question: was she the wife of Nebuchadnezzar and grandmother to
Belshazzar, or was she the wife of Nabonidus and mother of Belshazzar?
If it is the latter, then she is possibly Nitocris, since Herodotus says that
she was the last great queen of the Neo–Babylonian Empire [Histories,
I:185–188]. But, his description of her also includes legendary material.
Nevertheless, Nitocris was Nabonidus’ wife and Belshazzar’s mother.
Stephen Miller [21st century biblical scholar] says: “This queen was not
Belshazzar’s wife, for the text explicitly states that the wives of the king
were already present. Yet she must have been a highly prestigious
individual to enter the banquet hall uninvited, and when she arrived, she
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seemed to take charge. For these reasons most scholars since the time of
Josephus (Ant. 10.11.2) have identified her as the queen–mother, either
Nebuchadnezzar’s wife or Nabonidus’ wife. The mother of Nabonidus died
in 547 b.c., or 8 years prior to these events, and she is not an option. If the
wife of Nebuchadnezzar, she probably was the grandmother of Belshazzar,
unless Nabonidus married a widow of Nebuchadnezzar with a child
(Belshazzar) by the former king whom Nabonidus adopted as his own. In
this case Nebuchadnezzar’s widow (and Nabonidus’ wife) would have
been Belshazzar’s mother. Most likely she was the wife of Nabonidus,
and a daughter, not a widow, of Nebuchadnezzar. If so, she may have
been the famous Nitocris. At any rate, this woman displayed firsthand
information concerning the affairs of Nebuchadnezzar that would not have
been known by a younger wife of Belshazzar, and she seems to have
observed Daniel’s ministry in Nebuchadnezzar’s court.”
Thus, upon entering, she gave the king the typical oriental greeting, “your
majesty, live forever,” as a public display of her respect. However, from
the perspective of Daniel, this was uttered in irony!
Next in v. 11, we read: “There’s a man in your kingdom in whom dwells
the spirit of the holy gods. During your grandfather’s reign, he was found
to have insight, intelligence, and wisdom, like that of the gods. Your
grandfather, Nebuchadnezzar—your kingly predecessor—appointed him to
be chief administrator over the magicians, enchanters, and Chaldeans.”
The Aramaic rûaḥ ʾĕlāhîn qaddîšîn [for “spirit of the holy gods”] is the
same expression found earlier [recall Daniel 4:8], in which the word
ʾĕlāhîn should be understood as a true plural. Furthermore, the Aramaic
ʾăḇûḵ malkāʾ [for “kingly predecessor”] is unnecessary and missing from
the LXXθ and Syriac, because it originated as a secondary scribal gloss.
So, by noticing how shaken and upset the king was, she sought to calm
him by calling to his attention that there was a man in the kingdom who
could help him. But, why did he not think to call Daniel earlier, especially
since he had called for others among the wise men [v. 7]? One possible
answer is that Daniel had been out of active government service by then,
because the year of this scene was 539 b.c., and if Daniel was ~15 years
old in 605 b.c. during Nebuchadnezzar’s 1st deportation, then he would
have been ~81 years old on this night.

Furthermore, since Belshazzar had begun to reign in 553 b.c. as part of a
joint–regime with his father Nabonidus, this means ~52 years had passed
since Daniel’s arrival. Thus, Daniel was ~67 years old when Belshazzar
began to reign, and being this old in 553 b.c., he was never part of
Belshazzar’s administration, because Belshazzar was not familiar with
Daniel [later in vv. 13–14]. Another possible answer is that Belshazzar
was familiar with Daniel’s role with Nebuchadnezzar, and the queen was
actually rebuking Belshazzar!
H. J. M. Van Deventer [21st century biblical scholar] says: “It is significant
that the queen mother in Daniel 5 is not named. Her power is derived
from her very high social standing, in fact the highest social standing a
woman could obtain, albeit through personal ingenuity. As indicated the
queen mother acts in the narrative world along the lines of the female
rebuker. It is noteworthy that the narrator chooses the queen mother for
this part. According to the societal set–up she was placed in a role from
which rebuke is expected and, indeed, accepted. It is, after all, not one of
‘his’ concubines that rebukes the king. The queen mother’s social standing
explains her conduct in this court tale.”
Finally in v. 12, we read: “because he was found to have an extraordinary
spirit, knowledge, and understanding, along with an ability to interpret
dreams, explain riddles, and solve difficult problems. His name is Daniel,
whom the king renamed Belteshazzar. Call for Daniel, and he will reveal
the meaning of the writing.”
The queen believed that Daniel had “the spirit of the holy gods” within
him because she referred to the days of Belshazzar’s grandfather
Nebuchadnezzar when Daniel had “an extraordinary spirit, knowledge,
and understanding, along with an ability to interpret dreams, explain
riddles, and solve difficult problems” [recall Daniel 2; 4]. The Aramaic
mᵊšārēʾ qiṭrîn [for “solve difficult problems”] literally means “the
loosening/untying of knots.” Thus, there is subtle wordplay in the text,
since Belshazzar was described earlier in v. 6 with the Aramaic qiṭr
ḥarṣēh mištārayin [or “the knots/joints of his loins were loosening”].
However, Daniel is described here in v. 12 as someone who can “loosen
knots” because both v. 6 and v. 12 have the same words šᵊrāʾ and qᵊṭar,
and this is an example of dramatic irony involving double entendre.
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In other words, through Daniel’s competency as a prophet, God was
mocking Belshazzar’s arrogance and his psychosomatic reaction of fear.
Daniel was already appointed by Nebuchadnezzar as “chief” over the
occult practitioners in the royal court. So, even though Nebuchadnezzar
gave him the Babylonian name “Belteshazzar,” the queen nevertheless
referred to him first by his true name “Daniel” [or “God is my judge”],
because this reflected his relationship to God, since Nebuchadnezzar had
come to respect Daniel’s original name [recall Daniel 4:8]. Thus, she
advised: “call for Daniel, and he will reveal the meaning of the writing.”
Michael Wilson [21st century biblical scholar] summarizes and concludes:
“It is important to note that the queen comes onto the scene having heard
the commotion. She is not summoned. It is not as though Belshazzar as a
last resort appeals to her. We are still left with the picture of a Belshazzar
who has nowhere to turn. Evidently the queen had not been invited to the
banquet, or else she deliberately distances herself from it. At any rate her
speech indicates that she sees herself linked to Nebuchadnezzar over and
above Belshazzar. If Belshazzar has neglected her then this is consistent
with the way he has ignored vital historical lessons of the very recent past.
Insofar as the queen is identified with Nebuchadnezzar it appears that just
as those who threaten Adonijah’s power were not invited to his banquet (1
Kings 1), so too here Belshazzar avoids all who were intimately
associated with the rule of his father. He wants to create for himself his
own greatness commensurate with that of Nebuchadnezzar. The identity of
‘the queen’ is unclear (v. 10). Beginning with Josephus most
commentators have thought her to be the queen mother. Various scholars
have speculated as to her identity, with proposals including Nitocris, wife
of Nebuchadnezzar; the wife of Nabonidus and grandmother of
Belshazzar; Adadguppi, wife of Nabonidus and mother of Belshazzar. But,
we have already been told that his wives and concubines were present, so
it seems unlikely that she was Belshazzar’s wife. Further she displays an
intimate knowledge of past events. The freedom she felt to come into the
banquet hall may also indicate she had a higher station than being merely
the wife of Belshazzar. It was common in the ancient Near East for the
queen mother to be treated as a key political figure. Possibly she is the
wife or daughter of Nebuchadnezzar or the wife of Nabonidus. Herodotus
tells the story of Nitocris, a wise and powerful queen who fortified Babylon
with a canal system. Herodotus believed her to be Nebuchadnezzar’s wife

and Nabonidus’s mother. In Daniel 2 Arioch recommended Daniel to the
king, and in this respect the queen now performs an analogous role. A
close look at what the queen says is instructive. Her language is double–
edged. While on the one hand, her words speak a message of comfort, on
the other hand, her words function to bring attention to the king’s
discomfort. If any of those present have missed the king’s display of fear,
she makes sure that they now take note of it. The queen begins by hailing
the king with the words, ‘O king, live forever!’ In context this heightens the
biting satire of the chapter because in reality Belshazzar’s reign and
indeed his life will run out that very night. The queen then tells him of
Daniel as one who has the ability ‘to solve problems.’ The expression used
is very interesting—‘to loosen knots’ (v. 12). This is a common enough
form of words to use with respect to resolving a mystery such as this. But
in this particular context the language is highly suggestive. For the
identical phrase used to describe the king’s panic now reappears. Has the
queen upon entering noticed that Belshazzar’s hip joints have gone
slack, or even seen a puddle of urine at his feet? Certainly, this is a
satirical pun that would have caused many a Jewish reader to burst into
laughter. In addition, given earlier parallels between Daniel and Joseph,
we must not miss the parallel implicit here with: ‘Now there arose over
Egypt a new king who did not know Joseph’ (Exodus 1:8). History repeats
itself. So, in vv. 1–4, Belshazzar’s attempts to be like Nebuchadnezzar
seem pathetic by comparison. In this light it is striking to see how the
queen—and Daniel will reinforce this when he speaks—keeps referring
back to Nebuchadnezzar. She pointedly refers to him as King
Nebuchadnezzar, and as ‘your father the king’ (v. 11), as though implicitly
she was denying Belshazzar’s right, at least by comparison, to fully own
such a title. She speaks of Nebuchadnezzar’s attitude towards Daniel—the
most crucial part of the history of Nebuchadnezzar, which Belshazzar has
completely missed in his attempt at recapitulation. Indeed Belshazzar’s
ignorance of Daniel and his consequent ‘desecration of the temple’ (at
least symbolically) is somewhat reminiscent of Pharaoh’s ignorance of
Joseph and his similarly blasphemous disdain for God’s people; a parallel
encouraged by the commonality of the unknown hero idea in both
contexts. In stressing that Daniel was called Belteshazzar by
Nebuchadnezzar, the queen may be drawing attention via the almost
identical names to the contrast between Belshazzar and Daniel. It is the
wisest of men who is most fit to exercise rule over the kingdom, and
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recognition of this is implicit in Belshazzar’s readiness to give the
problem–solver political power of this order. Certainly in the outworking
of God’s kingdom purposes it is Belteshazzar who is central at this time
and Belshazzar of absolutely no use whatsoever. So, in v. 12, Daniel is
introduced as one who ‘unties knots.’ Those present have experienced
divine power at work—a power that has ‘tied knots.’ The concept of gods
who bind is very common in the ancient world. Indo–European
mythologies differentiate between warrior gods who fight by military
means and those who wield a different kind of weapon: magic. So, for
example, in contrast to the thunderbolt weapon of the warrior god Indra,
the weapon of the most invincible of the gods, Varuna, is depicted in the
form of a noose or knot. Indeed sometimes Indra is represented as
rescuing victims who have been ‘bound’ by Varuna and ‘unloosing’ them.
In ancient India, Yama and Nirrti, divinities of death, also make use of the
same magic weapon. Similarly in Greek mythology while Zeus fights wars
Ouranus ‘binds’ his eventual rivals in hell. In Roman mythology, Romulus
‘binds with all–powerful bonds.’ Iranian mythology especially recognizes
gods who bind: the demon Astovidhotush and the gods Fredun, Tistrya,
Verethragna, and Ahriman. Along the same lines Pauhi is the ancient
Chinese god of the wind and the net. Eliade also notes various Island
peoples who believe in gods who bind. More relevant still to Daniel 5 is
that, in the Semitic world, magic bonds of every kind are a divine (and
demonic) power that is almost universal. By way of illustration is Enlil and
his wife Ninkhursay (Ninlil) and En–zu, that is, Sin (the god preferred by
Nabonidus). Perhaps it is significant that Sin, like these other Semitic
deities, is represented as having a net with which he catches those guilty
of perjury. Other Semitic gods who bind include Shamash, Nisaba,
Tammuz and again, most significantly, Marduk. Bel (Enlil) is addressed in
this way: ‘Father Bel, who dost hurl thy noose, and every noose is a
hostile noose.’ Marduk, like Indra, uses the noose and cords as a divine
champion. In Enuma Elish Ea ‘binds’ the primordial monsters Apsu and
Mummu with magical incantations, prior to killing them. In his fight with
the sea monster, Tiamat, Marduk’s chief weapon is the ‘net’ and Marduk
‘binds’ Tiamat, ‘shackles’ her and then kills her. He then chains up all the
gods and demons who aligned themselves with Tiamat. In the ancient
world, magical bonds were used against human enemies and also to
provide protection against wild animals and against disease, witchcraft,
demons, and death. For example, the cord buried near the house of an

enemy; the cord hidden in a ship to make it capsize; and the use of knots to
bring about all sorts of ills. The use of knots, strings and cords for
protection against disaster during the time of childbirth is especially
common. Depending on the context, the act of binding or tying can be
either positive or negative. Illness and death are the two elements of the
magico–religious complex of ‘binding’ which have had the widest
currency almost all over the world. It is against this background that
much biblical language takes on a new edge. Consider, for example, the
psalmist who cries out: ‘the cords of Sheol entangled me, the snares of
death confronted me’ (Psalm 18:5). Or, again: ‘I will spread my net for
him, and he will be caught in my snare; I will bring him to Babylonia’
(Ezekiel 12:13). In such instances the context is not that of magic.
However, in the rest of the ancient world magical connotations
predominate. The Babylonian word markasu (‘link’ or ‘cord’) means in
the mythology, the cosmic principle that unites all things, and also the
support and the power and the divine law that hold the universe together.
With regard to the context of Daniel 5 it is important to recognize that it is
in the sphere of knowledge and wisdom that we encounter the language of
‘tearing away’ the veils of unreality, and ‘untying’ the ‘knots’ of existence.
Given all of the above background, the image of Daniel as the untier of
knots takes on added significance. The worldview of Belshazzar and his
entourage would lead them to see the mysterious writing or etching on the
wall as an ominous divine act of magical binding. The extreme terror
experienced by Belshazzar may well be attributable to his automatic, and
now comprehensible association of such ‘binding’ with a sense of
imminent death and disaster. But the great untier of knots, Daniel, does
not meet magic with magic. Daniel only unravels the cords of mystery,
and as so often happens, it may very well serve as a clever double
entendre, whereby the king desired to have the enigmatic code ‘spelled’
out, so that his ‘charmed’ existence would remain unharmed; the cords of
death remain tightly fastened around Belshazzar’s gasping throat.”
5) What was Belshazzar’s reward to Daniel for interpreting? (5:13–16)
Starting with v. 13, we read: “Then Daniel was brought before the king.
The king spoke up and told Daniel, ‘So you are Daniel, one of the Judean
exiles whom my grandfather the king brought from Judah!’”
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Belshazzar did not waste any time in summoning Daniel to his presence,
and apparently Daniel was not too far away at the time [since he arrived
rather quickly]. Although the queen had pointed out the fact of Daniel’s
promotion to “chief” of the wise men, Belshazzar made no mention of this
when he addressed Daniel. Instead, since the Aramaic bᵊn gālûṯāʾ [for
“the Judean exiles”] literally means “sons of the deportation,” Belshazzar
pointed out this context of Daniel’s association with them, a fact that the
queen had not mentioned! Thus, it was the recognition of Daniel’s Hebrew
name [dāniyyēʾl] which was easily identifiable as a foreign name and
connected him with Israel’s God. Thousands of these Jews who had been
taken captive by Nebuchadnezzar were still living in their realm, and
Belshazzar was undoubtedly generally familiar with them. Thus, by
acknowledging that Daniel was “from Judah,” the king was certainly
aware that he was now talking face–to–face with a man [renowned for
having “the spirit of the holy gods”] who represented Israel’s God [and the
Temple vessels he desecrated]. Thus, Belshazzar must have been highly
anxious at this moment as he waited to hear from God’s representative.
Finally in vv. 14–16, we read: “I’ve heard about you, that a spirit of the
gods is in you and that you have insight, discernment, and extraordinary
wisdom. Take note that the advisors and enchanters were brought before
me to read the writing and explain its meaning, but they were unable to do
so. However, I’ve heard that you can provide meaning and interpretation,
and that you can solve difficult problems. If you are able to read the
writing and report its meaning, you will be clothed in purple, have a gold
chain placed around your neck, and you will become the third highest
ruler in the kingdom.”
Belshazzar continued with his elaboration of what he knew about Daniel.
He acknowledged that Daniel possessed a “spirit of the gods,” curiously
omitting the word “holy” in regard to gods, although a few manuscript
editions [including the Syriac and Arabic versions] add the word qaddîšîn
[or “holy”], but since this is missing from the Masoretic Text, it is more
likely that this addition was due to a harmonization with v. 11.
Nevertheless, Belshazzar’s wording of Daniel’s spiritual qualifications
seems to be a summary of what the queen had said to him previously. He
also acknowledged to Daniel that the wise men of the court had seen the
inscription, but had not been able to declare its interpretation.

Although several categories of wise men had been listed in v. 7, the king
only refers to the “advisors and enchanters,” possibly for the sake of
brevity. Finally, in v. 16, Belshazzar acknowledged what he had heard
about Daniel in regard to his ability to make interpretations and solve
difficult problems. So, curiously notice that Belshazzar extended the same
offer of the three rewards to Daniel that had been offered to the other wise
men. Although Nebuchadnezzar had rewarded Daniel in days past because
of how amazingly God had worked through Daniel [recall Daniel 2:48],
this offer of reward came in a very different context: from the lips of a
king who deliberately mocked and ridiculed Israel’s God.
Eugene Carpenter [21st century biblical scholar] concludes: “The queen’s
description of Daniel, now a man of ~80 years of age, as one in whom ‘the
spirit of the holy gods’ resided, repeats Nebuchadnezzar’s evaluation of
Daniel’s uniqueness in Babylonian polytheistic terms (Daniel 4:8–9, 18).
From Daniel’s perspective, it was the Spirit of the living God who was in
him, imparting wisdom, skill, and understanding to him just as the Spirit
had to Bezalel, Moses, and the prophets. His possession of wisdom like
that belonging to the gods made some think that ‘a godlike’ man might be
among them (Daniel 2:11). But in the world of Daniel, to be ‘like God’
meant living a righteous, holy, loving, and wise life. The interpretation of
the writing on the wall, which evidently remained there for all to see and
examine, and which the king sought so diligently, was a devastating
announcement and revelation that confirmed the worst fears of
Belshazzar’s anxiety attack. Knowing the significance of the writing would
prove far more disconcerting than the angst of not knowing what it meant.
Daniel, as a true prophet, would tell them what it meant. His prophetic
word would, like Jeremiah’s message, bring down a nation (Jeremiah 1:9–
10). The king recalled the exile of Daniel by Nebuchadnezzar (Daniel 1:1–
3). Literarily, this connects this section to the preceding chapters centering
on Nebuchadnezzar. Belshazzar’s mention of Nebuchadnezzar enabled
Daniel to present him as the model the current crown prince should have
followed (vv. 17–21). The king’s proposition to Daniel was the same he
offered to all of the other wise men. But Daniel did not work for the crown
prince; he served the King of heaven (Daniel 4:37), who revealed his
secrets to his servant (Daniel 2:22–23, 27–29) and gave him all of his
abilities (Daniel 1:17). Daniel was ready to speak the message of God to
the king because he had been positioned by God to do his will.”
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6) What was Daniel’s response to Belshazzar? (5:17–28)
Starting with v. 17, we read: “At this, Daniel answered, speaking directly
to the king, ‘Let your gifts and rewards be given to someone else.
However, I’ll read the writing for the king and tell him its meaning.’”
The Aramaic ûnᵊḇāzᵊbᵊyāṯāḵ [for “your gifts and rewards”] has caused
some confusion, since the LXXθ regarded this as two separate words
[ûnᵊḇizbāṯ baytāḵ], translating as kai tēn dōrean tēs oikias sou [or “and the
gift of your house”]. The Qumran 4QDana has nbzbtk [without the yod],
and nᵊḇizbâ is either a Persian or Akkadian loanword. So, Daniel’s tone is
rude, since Josephus assumed a softer reply: “Then Daniel begged him to
keep his presents—for, he said, that which was wise and divine could not
be bought with gifts but freely benefited those who asked for help—and
said that he would explain the writing to him.” [Ant. 10.11.3 §241]
However, rather than being rude, Daniel was trying to be clear with the
king. He was there only to speak the truth and refused the rewards, so that
he would not be under any obligation that would interfere with him being
less than truthful. One thing is evident: Daniel was not motivated by such
earthly treasures! At this stage of his life, he could see the limited value
these offered. It takes a man of genuine godly character to pass up the
glitter of worldly desires, but that is precisely what Daniel did.
Furthermore, for him the rewards were wrong because of the context in
which they were offered [a context of belittling God whom Daniel served].
Next in vv. 18–21, we read: “Your majesty, the Most High God gave your
grandfather Nebuchadnezzar sovereignty, as well as greatness, glory, and
splendour. And because of the greatness that he gave him, all people,
nations, and languages revered and feared him. He executed those whom
he desired to execute, he spared those whom he wished to spare, he
promoted those whom he desired to promote, and he humbled those whom
he wished to humble. But when he became arrogant and his spirit
hardened, he was removed from his royal throne and his glory was taken
away from him. He was driven away from human society and given the
mind of an animal. He lived with wild donkeys, ate grass like cattle, and
his body was soaked with dew from the sky until he realized that the Most
High is sovereign over human kingdoms and places whomever he desires.”

Daniel turns Belshazzar’s attention to God’s discipline upon his
grandfather Nebuchadnezzar. God knew beforehand how he would behave
as king, but he still allowed him to have a full taste of earthly greatness. In
other words, God had allowed Nebuchadnezzar to realize “greatness” far
beyond what Belshazzar was experiencing, for the Babylonian kingdom
had been eroding for some time, as Cyrus [leading the combined armies of
Persia and Media] continued to grow in power. However, in
Nebuchadnezzar’s day, he had enjoyed a much superior and almost
unrivalled power [Jeremiah 27:5–7]. God had allowed Nebuchadnezzar to
be an absolute monarch over many peoples, nations, and language groups,
doing virtually whatever he wished. Thus, not surprisingly
Nebuchadnezzar was swept away in pride. However, God is sovereign,
and just as he allowed Nebuchadnezzar to have greatness, so he took it all
away from him until he learned his lesson. Thus, v. 21 recounts the period
that Nebuchadnezzar had to dwell as an animal and with the animals. The
verse even stipulates that his dwelling place was with the “wild donkeys.”
There was no specific reference to these animals [recall Daniel 4:25], only
that the king dwelt among the “animals of the field.” The wild donkey was
known as being difficult to tame [Job 39:5–8], which would have been
appropriate in regard to Nebuchadnezzar himself. All men must recognize
who the true ruler is and must humbly submit themselves before God.
Nebuchadnezzar was a grand illustration that we cannot escape the
consequences of pride. As Daniel spoke about Nebuchadnezzar, the
implication was apparent that Belshazzar was behaving the same way, and
even worse. However, some people learn very little from history, and
Belshazzar certainly had not learned much!
Chrysostom [4th century Bishop of Constantinople] beautifully concludes:
“And in the Old Testament it may be found in that grace many times came
on unworthy persons that it might do good to others. Nebuchadnezzar was
very full of iniquity; yet to Daniel revealed what was to follow after many
generations. And again to the son of this last, though surpassing his
father in iniquity, he signified the things to come, ordering a marvellous
and great dispensation. Accordingly because then also the beginnings of
the gospel were taking place, and it was requisite that the manifestation of
its power should be abundant, many even of the unworthy used to receive
gifts. However, from those miracles no gain accrued to them; rather,
they are punished even more.”
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Jerome [4th century] says: “Thus, Daniel sets forth the example of the
king’s great–grandfather, in order to teach him the justice of God and
make it clear that his great–grandson too was to suffer similar treatment
because of his pride. Now if Nebuchadnezzar killed whomever he would
and struck to death whomever he wished to; if he set on high those whom
he would and brought low whomever he wished to, there is certainly no
divine providence or scriptural injunction behind these honours and
slayings, these acts of promotion and humiliation. But rather, such things
ensue from the will of the people who do the slaying and promoting to
honour and all the rest. If this is the case, the question arises as to how we
are to understand the scripture: ‘The heart of a king reposes in the hand of
God; he will incline it in whatever direction he wishes’ [Proverbs 21:1].
Perhaps we might say that every saint is a king, for sin does not reign in
his mortal body, and his heart therefore is kept safe, for he is in God’s
hand. And whatever has once come into the hand of God the Father,
according to the gospel, no one is able to take it away. And whoever is
taken away, it is understood that he never was in God’s hand at all.”
Next in vv. 22–24, we read: “But you, Belshazzar, his grandson, haven’t
humbled yourself, even though you knew all of this. You’ve exalted
yourself against the Lord of heaven. You’ve had the vessels from his
Temple brought into your presence. And you, your officials, and your
wives and mistresses drank wine from them. You praised gods of silver,
gold, bronze, iron, wood, and stone, which can’t see, hear, or demonstrate
knowledge. But you didn’t honour God, who holds in his power your very
life and all your ways. Therefore, the hand that wrote this inscription was
sent from his presence.”
Daniel had previously referred to Nebuchadnezzar as Belshazzar’s
“grandfather,” but now he called Belshazzar the “grandson” of
Nebuchadnezzar. Once again, it is the closeness of relationship that is
stressed. Thus, Daniel confronted Belshazzar with the fact that he knew
these things about Nebuchadnezzar, and yet did not humble himself.
Belshazzar was not so removed in time from Nebuchadnezzar that these
things would have escaped his knowledge. So, Belshazzar had no excuse
for what he did. He had an advantage over Nebuchadnezzar in that he had
the example of Nebuchadnezzar before him. Being a foolish man, this
example failed to curb his pride. Thus, there would be no reprieve for him.

Stephen Miller [21st century biblical scholar] says: “How would
Belshazzar have been aware of Nebuchadnezzar’s humiliation? Certainly
the story would have been known, but evidence exists that indicates that
Belshazzar may have seen these events firsthand. Belshazzar served as
chief officer during the administration of King Neriglissar in 560 b.c.
according to Babylonian historical texts. This means that the king was old
enough to fill a high position in government only 2 years after
Nebuchadnezzar’s death (562 b.c.). Since Nabonidus was an official in
Nebuchadnezzar’s administration, Belshazzar would have lived in
Babylon and would have observed personally the last years of the great
king’s reign. Thus, Daniel’s rebuke is even more understandable.
Belshazzar had seen with his own eyes what happened to Nebuchadnezzar,
and yet he had refused to humble himself before the Most High God.”
Furthermore, Daniel points out that Belshazzar had not merely exalted
himself. He exalted himself against “the Lord of heaven.” The word
translated “Lord” is not the personal name of God [Yahweh]. Instead, this
is the Aramaic word mārēʾ, which is a term indicating both respect and
high position of authority. Daniel had used this same term while speaking
to Nebuchadnezzar [recall Daniel 4:24], but Nebuchadnezzar was only a
“lord” of the earthly kingdom of Babylon; Daniel’s God is “Lord of
heaven” which was a further deliberate insult to the Babylonian deities. In
other words, Marduk was viewed in the Cyrus Cylinder as: “Marduk, the
great lord, a protector of his people/worshipers, beheld with pleasure
Cyrus’ good deeds and his upright mind and therefore ordered him to
march against his city Babylon.”
Thus, the use of this phrase underscored the authority of the one he was
defying and the extent to which he had overstepped his bounds. The
Aramaic hiṯrômamtā [for “exalted yourself”] is the same as that used of the
“king” who exalts and magnifies himself above every god [later in Daniel
11:36], which in that context is a reference to the future antichrist. Thus,
Belshazzar did not merely drink wine from some vessels used for religious
purposes. Daniel pointed out that these were the vessels “from his Temple”
and Belshazzar’s sin had been extremely offensive. With these vessels,
Belshazzar praised the inanimate gods made of various earthly materials
[Deuteronomy 4:28; Psalm 115:4–8], and in contrast did not glorify the
God in whose hand was his breath!
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So, not only was Belshazzar’s very breath in God’s hands [he controlled
whether Belshazzar lived or died], but so was his “ways” [his whole
destiny]. Thus, Belshazzar’s self–exaltation and sacrilegious defiance had
caused God to send forth an anthropomorphic hand writing an inscription,
which without doubt were words of judgment against Belshazzar.
Theodoret [5th century Bishop of Cyr] says: “He did well to instruct those
present to worship not visible things but their Creator and Lord. At the
same time he also convicts the king of conceit and teaches him that the
highest heaven has for its creator the unseen God. You, he is saying, made
your heart more elevated not than heaven but than the God of heaven, the
Lord of all creation; if you were not guilty of such awful conceit, you
would not have ordered the vessels of his house to be brought in. Now,
Daniel did well and showed much wisdom in putting in parallel the idols
and the God of all with a view to the benefit felt by the hearers; after
emphasizing that the former neither see nor hear, instead of proceeding to
say in regard to the God of all that he sees and hears and knows, he cited
the more powerful fact of all, your life and your ways are in his hand,
since providing life to others and in turn removing it at will is more
important than having life. He brought out, then, that while the idols are
deprived of life and all sensation, the Lord God of all is the source of all
life and both gives it and takes it, governing as he wills. Nevertheless,
Daniel is saying, despite his being of this stature, so great, with power of
life and death, appointing kings and removing them, you not only did not
sing his praises but rather even persisted in your drunken behaviour,
making fun of vessels dedicated to him.”
Finally in vv. 25–28, we read: “This is the written inscription: MENE,
MENE, TEKEL, PARSIN. These are the meanings of the words: MENE:
God has audited your kingdom—and has ended it. TEKEL: You’ve been
weighed on the scales—and you don’t measure up. PERES: Your kingdom
has been divided—and will be given to the Medes and Persians.”
Scholars have interpreted this in many ways. One theory is that the writing
was scratches on the plaster made by a left hand with 4 verticals by the 4
fingers and one horizontal made by the thumb crossing the vertical made
by the index finger. So, a left hand scratched the wall while simultaneously
making a fist, and the resulting cuneiform strokes looked like this: │││┼

These represent the numbers 60, 60, 1, and ½ [the vertical stroke having a
double meaning of 60 and 1 depending on the context]. Thus, these
cuneiform symbols for numbers were converted by Daniel into Aramaic
for mina [60 shekels], mina [60 shekels], tekel [1 shekel], and ½. In other
words, the inscription was a number written in cuneiform, but Daniel
translated it into Aramaic, and then interpreted it. This is why the experts
[who obviously knew Aramaic] did not initially understand the writing.
David Instone–Brewer [21st century biblical scholar] explains this theory:
“The writing on the wall interpreted by Daniel continues to present
problems, despite much work done in the past. One particular problem is
why the Babylonians could not read these Aramaic words when Aramaic
was an official court language. I propose that the inscription was a
number written in cuneiform, which was translated into Aramaic, and then
interpreted. This may provide indirect links between the composition of
the narrative and visionary halves of the book (Daniel 1–6 and Daniel 7–
12). The exact form of the text is difficult to establish. Theodotion (which
became the official Greek text for Daniel) agrees with Josephus and the
Vulgate in transliterating the text as if it read ‘Mene Teqel Peres,’ and the
older LXX appears to read it as ‘Mene Peres Teqel.’ Various theories have
been put forward to explain why a second Mene should be added and why
the plural Parsin should occur. Lacocque suggests that the three terms
were originally ‘Mene Teqel Parsin’ which applied to Nebuchadnezzar,
Belshazzar, and the plural Medo–Persians, but that a later redactor added
an extra Mene to make them apply to the four Empires of Daniel. Hans
Bauer suggested that the original was ‘Mene Teqel Peres Peres’ and that
the final pair became the plural Parsin. However, both these ideas
compound the problem by proposing original text forms which are
different again. By the principle that the most difficult text is the best, the
Masoretic Text is probably nearest to the original. The double Mene in
the text is difficult because this duplication is not referred to in the
interpretation and the plural Parsin is difficult because it is referred to as
a singular in the interpretation. The reading ‘Mene Teqel Peres’ is the
easiest reading because it is consistent with the interpretation in vv. 26–
28, so it is most likely to be secondary. A possible explanation for the
plural Parsin has been proposed seemingly independently by Guglielmo
and Zimmermann. They suggest that a redactor changed it to a plural to
emphasise the double interpretation in v. 28 as both ‘divided’ and
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‘Persians’. A break–through in the understanding of this text was made by
Clermont–Ganneau who first suggested that these three words represented
weights: Mina (60 shekels), Shekel, and Peresh (a half). The variant
spelling of Teqel for Shekel involves a change of sibilant to dental
pronunciation, which is common in Daniel’s Aramaic, and this spelling
has been found on one papyrus. The term Peresh is used for a half Mina
in rabbinic literature (bTaan 21b) and has been found on a Babylonian
half Mina weight. This insight introduced a new difficulty. Babylonian
weights and numbers normally occur in the order of highest to lowest, so
the order should be ‘Mina, Mina, Peresh, Shekel.’ This prompted Kraeling
to put forward a totally new interpretation not proffered by Daniel, which
also explained the double Mina. He suggested that these weights
represented the rulers Evil–Merodach and Neriglissar (both a Mina), the
8–month rule of the boy king Labashi–Marduk (a Shekel), and Nabonidus
with his co–regent Belshazzar (two Pereshin). This was later adapted for
the shorter text ‘Mina Shekel Peresh’ by Ginsberg (Nebuchadnezzar, Evil–
Merodach, and Belshazzar) and Freedman (Nebuchadnezzar, Nabonidus,
and Belshazzar). However, these ingenious theories lack support in the
text, and although these scholars may regard their interpretations as
self–evident, no exegetes have uncovered them till modern times. The
evidence for ‘Peresh’ as ‘half a Mina’ is convincing, but not enough to
exclude the possibility that it was used generally to mean a ‘half’ measure
(from Aramaic PRS, or Akkadian parisu, ‘to divide’), and that its precise
meaning depends on the context. Its position in ‘Mina Mina Shekel Peresh’
suggests that in Daniel it means a half Shekel. This removes the problem of
the order of the weights. The problem remains that the Babylonian wise
men did not appear to be able to read Aramaic, the lingua franca of the
empire, so most of the people at the banquet would have been able to
read the individual words. The interpretation of such words would be a
small thing for men who were trained to find meaning in meaningless
dreams and visions. They could have interpreted it as the monetary value
of a sacrifice to be offered to Nabû, or the weight of gold which each
soldier would capture in battle, or as ‘Numbered and)weighed are the
Persians.’ Given the size of the reward being offered, it seems incredible
that no–one was willing to proffer a reasonable sounding guess.
However, the text suggests that they could not even read the words, let
alone interpret them (v. 8). Zimmermann suggests that this means they
could not ‘vocalise’ the words, though he does not say why they should

have such difficulty with an official court language. The rabbis and later
Jewish commentators thought that perhaps it was written in unfamiliar
characters, or in cipher, or vertically. Calvin simply said that God blinded
the infidels, while Jeffrey dismissed the problem as a simple assumption by
the story–teller that the Babylonians were not as clever as Daniel.
Lacocque suggested that the words may have been Aramaic
transliterated into cuneiform characters. I will make a similar but
simpler proposal: that the original writing was cuneiform numerals
which Daniel translated into Aramaic. There is one curious feature of the
story which has not been explained by any of the theories concerning this
writing. The text says that it was written using ‘fingers’ in the plural (v. 5),
not ‘a finger’ as one would expect (Exodus 31:18; Deuteronomy 9:10).
This phrase could imply that the hand scratched the wall with its fingers,
and that these scratches were interpreted by Daniel as writing. If a left
hand were to scratch a surface with its fingers while it drew itself into a
fist, it would leave a series of marks which could be interpreted in
cuneiform as numbers. These numbers could be interpreted as ‘Mina,
Mina, Shekel, and a half.’ The marks would be three vertical strokes of the
small finger, ring finger, and middle finger, followed by a cross made by
the vertical of the forefinger being bisected by the horizontal of the thumb.
Cuneiform numerals are fairly straight–forward though sometimes
ambiguous. A simple vertical stroke normally means ‘one’, though it can
sometimes mean ‘60’, which is usually discernible by context. Barton
argues that the marks for ‘l’ and ‘60’ may originally have been different.
However by the time of Daniel they were both represented by a single
down stroke. This did not normally cause confusion because the
sexagesimal system was rarely used. A vertical crossed by a horizontal is
a half, and there are other symbols for 10, 100, 600, and 1,000. Numbers
are built up from left to right, highest to lowest denominations. However,
the interpretation of even a very simple cuneiform word or phrase is very
difficult when separated from its context. The single vertical can mark the
start of a male name, or the ideas of ‘when’ or ‘to’. Barton lists 185
possible meanings of the vertical crossed by a horizontal. Although these
meanings were not all current in late–Babylonian texts, one can perhaps
understand the consternation of the wise men of Babylon. Daniel’s stroke
of genius or inspiration seems to have been to convert these marks into
numbers and then into the names of the weights these numbers
represent. The first three verticals could either be ‘1’ or ‘60’, so he reads
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the first two as ‘60’, or a Mina (60 shekels), and the third as a Shekel,
making the last a half. It would have been quite wrong of an accountant or
priest to mix up the sexagesimal and the unitary values in this way, but for
Daniel this opened up fresh possibilities for his interpretation. It did not
matter for Daniel’s present interpretation whether he had two Minas or
two Shekels, so the number of these does not figure in his explanation (vv.
26–28). Later, however, Daniel does explore other possibilities. Having
converted the meaningless marks into words, Daniel could then apply the
normal techniques of wordplay. He revocalised the names of the weights
as though they were Aramaic words and produced verbal participles. He
did not have a written Aramaic source, so it did not matter that he
changed the Aleph in MNA to a He to make MNH (‘numbered’). Shekel, in
the dental pronunciation common in Daniel, becomes TQL (‘weighed’).
The Peresh is pronounced Peres and becomes PRS (‘divided’ or
‘Persians’). If this understanding of the writing on the wall is correct,
Daniel interpreted | | | + as 60, 60, 1, ½ = 121½. This understanding may
also give an insight into the number system of the visionary chapters in
Daniel. These are based largely on the number 3½, which is the numerical
basis of the first vision (Daniel 7:25) and the last (Daniel 12:7). The
number 3½ is also the simplest interpretation of these marks, each vertical
is usually read as ‘1’, so these marks are 1, 1, 1, ½ = 3½. It may be
postulated that the visions based on the number 3½ were meditations on
this initial revelation. This bold supposition finds some support when one
looks at other numbers in Daniel. In Daniel 9 the value 3½ occurs again,
but as part of a much more complex series of numbers. The 70 years of
Jeremiah 29:10 (Daniel 9:2) is interpreted as 70 ‘weeks’ of years, and
divided into three groups of 7 weeks, 62 weeks and 1 week (Daniel 9:25).
This last week is divided into two periods of 3½ years (Daniel 9:27). The
reason for this division is not clear in the text, but one reason may be that
the third possible numerical interpretation of | | | + is 60, 1, 1, ½ = 62½.
Thus, a period of 62 weeks is placed immediately before the first ½ week.
This not only leaves a period of 7 weeks, but also provides a reason for
dividing the last week into halves, thereby providing a link with Daniel 7.
This link between the vision of Daniel 5 and the numerical prophesies in
later chapters is clearly not contrived by a unifying editor or by a separate
author of the later chapters. There is no mention of this link, and no hint
that the numbers in the later chapters are related in any way to the writing
on the wall. This provides indirect evidence that both halves of Daniel’s

book were written by the same person. This person would have to know
about the cuneiform original of the writing on the wall, and would have
to know how to re–interpret this cuneiform as other numerical values.
These factors make it likely that the author was Daniel himself. In
conclusion, the original writing on the wall may have been the cuneiform
marks | | | + which could be the scratches made by the fingers of a left
hand as it curled up into a fist. This could be read as 60, 60, 1, ½, or
‘Mina, Mina, Shekel, Peresh.’ This supposition would explain why the
other wise men could not read the writing and why the text says that it was
written with ‘fingers’ and not ‘a finger.’ This may also suggest an origin
for most of the numerical values in the visionary chapters, which may be
seen as meditations on other possible ways of computing these marks. At
the feast, Daniel explored their value as 121½. The visionary chapters
(Daniel 7–12) explore the other two possible values of 3½ and 62½. This
link between the narrative story of Daniel 5 and the visionary chapters
should be considered when discussing the composite nature of the book.”
So, even if the inscription was written in Aramaic, there would still be
ambiguity, because Aramaic [like Hebrew] was written without vowels, so
the same form can have different meanings depending on which vowels
were supplied. Thus, the obvious meaning of the Aramaic words is a
message about money: “Is weighed out a mina, a shekel, and two half
shekels.” But, why would God’s message involve counting money? So, the
absurdity of the most obvious reading of the text may be why the court
officials were unable to interpret it satisfactorily. This is why scholars
[apart from Instone–Brewer’s brilliant hypothesis] have proposed more
interpretive options for each word, depending on what vowels were
supplied, or if there were no letter divisions in order to distinguish words!
Aramaic Transliterations Interpretations
māneʾ A “mina” [weight of 60 shekels].
Perfect passive [“it is weighed,” or “it is
mĕniʾ
numbered,” or “it is reckoned”].
méneʾ Perfect verb [“he weighed; he counted; he
mĕnāʾ
numbered”].
mānē Active participle [“weighing” or “counting”].
mānʾē Biform of māʾn [“Vessels”; recall vv. 2–3].
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Noun for a weight and “shekel” is its Hebrew
tĕqēl cognate, where [š] sometimes becomes ‫[ ת‬t]
when words go from Hebrew to Aramaic.
téqel tĕqal Perfect verb of téqel [“he weighed”].
tĕqil Perfect passive of téqel [“it is weighted”].
tāqēl Imperfect verb from qalal [“you are light”].
tĕqal Verb [“he fell” or “stumbled”].
parsîn/parsayin “Half–shekels” or “two half shekels.”
pĕrisîn Passive participle [“divided” or “separated”].
parsîn
pārĕsîn Active participle [“they divide”].
parsîn Persians.
So, based on these options, another solution to solve the riddle is by
looking to the earlier context: Belshazzar counted the vessels [v. 3], he
stumbled based on his idolatry/sacrilege concerning the vessels [v. 4], and
so the Persians are coming. This interpretation of the riddle is initially
plausible, but Daniel makes no mention of vessels or stumbling.
Nevertheless, scholars still propose three more interpretations of the riddle:
1. Money: “Is counted a mina, a shekel, and two half shekels.” In
other words, the weight adds up to 62 shekels of silver.
2. Assessment: “He has reckoned an account. He has assigned the
bill. They assessed the value of payment.” In other words, there are
three ways that the bill has been assessed.
3. Results: “It is weighed out twice; you are light, and consequently
Persians.” In other words, there are not yet silver coins, but silver
grain or nuggets would be weighed on a scale or the balance
against a standard weight to determine the value: if one’s silver
weighs too little to pay the bill, it will show up as light on the scale,
for which there would be negative consequences with the Persians.
In summary, the words can be explained as either simple noun forms or
passive participle forms: “numbered, numbered, weighed, and divided.”
Thus, if it was in the passive participle form, it would have a hîreq–yôḏ
infix; we would expect mᵊnîʾ rather than mᵊnēʾ [also for tᵊqēl and pᵊrēs].

However, the syllables are accented in the Masoretic Text, which may
have produced the changed vowels. Thus, if it was in the noun form, then
the words are vocalized as nouns after the pattern of the simplest Aramaic
noun–form qetēl [the most natural form for Daniel to choose if he wished
them to be non–committal]. Nevertheless, when Charles Simon Clermont–
Ganneau [19th century French archaeologist] suggested that these three
terms referred to weights or monetary values, many scholars have used this
to suggest that these terms can mean a mina [Nebuchadnezzar], a shekel
[Belshazzar], and half–minas [Media/Persia]. However, this theory of
monetary weights suffers one significant flaw: Daniel did not interpret it
this way to the king! Also, if the words meant “a mina, a mina, a shekel,
and half–shekels,” then the key to their significance lies in the fact that
they sound like verbs. In other words, “mina” sounds like the verb mᵊnāh
[or “to number”]. For example, here is Thoth [the ibis–headed spokesman
of the chief god Ra], weighing a soul in a balance to determine its fate. So,
if Daniel referred to a similar concept after interpreting these words, then
God had weighed Belshazzar in the balance and found him valueless!
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Furthermore, this imagery of “scales” has an astronomical connection to
Libra in Babylonian astrology! Notice that Babylon fell on the 16th of
Tashritu [September–October], or the 12th/13th of October in 539 b.c., but
the banquet took place on the evening of 11th/12th of October. Thus, this
ironically took place on the annual rising of Libra on the 15th of Tashritu,
and this would have been well known to the Babylonian astrologers since
they sought astronomical linkage between classes of omens to confirm a
message. Thus, this is another polemical dimension to Daniel’s response
that is anti–astrological in significance, specifically a disclaimer that Libra
was not the great god of heaven as was thought in Babylonian astrology!
Albert Wolters [21st century biblical scholar] summarizes and concludes:
“Every reader of the bible is familiar with the words of the enigmatic
handwriting on the wall that appeared at Belshazzar’s feast, which Daniel
reads as follows: mene, mene, tekel, and parsin (vv. 25–28). The last part
of the inscription is given in some translations as upharsin, which is in fact
how the Aramaic original reads. However, it needs to be understood that u
here simply represents the Aramaic word for ‘and,’ which also has the
effect in this context of changing the first letter of the word parsin into ph.
The attentive reader, however, will also notice that Daniel’s explanation
of the handwriting seems to presuppose a somewhat shorter form. He
refers to mene only once, omits the word ‘and,’ and cites parsin in the
form peres, the singular form of parsin. There are good grounds for
believing that the short form, mene tekel peres, is the one actually
written on the wall, while the long form is the one read by Daniel. Apart
from the Masoretic Text there are six independent ancient witnesses to the
original text of the handwriting on the wall (the Old Greek, ‘Theodotion,’
Josephus, the Vulgate, Jerome in his commentary, and the Peshitta. All
but the Peshitta have the short form also in v. 25. Therefore, I will
proceed on the assumption that the actual writing on the wall gave the
short form, not only because of the testimony of the ancient versions, but
also because it best elucidates Daniel’s explanation, which is a kind of
tour de force of riddle interpretation. However, first I need to explain a
few basic facts about the way ancient Aramaic was written. To begin with,
words in an Aramaic text were often written in scriptio continua, which
means that there were no spaces between words. A series of letters could,
therefore, be read in more than one way, depending on how the words
were divided, just as in English ‘Godisnowhere’ could be read as either

‘God is now here’ or ‘God is nowhere.’ Secondly, it is important to bear in
mind that Aramaic, like Hebrew, was written without vowels. That is to
say, Aramaic writing consisted exclusively of consonants, and the vowels
needed to be supplied by the reader. Just as an English reader can readily
interpret the abbreviation ‘bldg’ as ‘building,’ so the Aramaic reader
could easily read the consonants TQL as tĕqēl, meaning ‘shekel’ (a unit of
weight). Of course, the difficulty is that sometimes different words could be
read by supplying different vowels. Thus, ‘bldg’ in English could be
plausibly read as ‘bulldog’ in some contexts; for example, in a list that
also included ‘gryhnd’ and ‘cckr spnl.’ In cases where there is no context
to guide the reader, the consonantal writing of Aramaic words could give
rise to significant ambiguity. If we put the fact that ancient Aramaic
writing had no spaces and no vowels together with the evidence that it was
the short form of the riddle that was written on the wall, we come to the
conclusion that the actual inscription that the Babylonians and Daniel
saw on the palace wall was MN’TQLPRS (the apostrophe represents the
Aramaic consonant aleph, and Q is the consonant that corresponds to
the K of tekel). The reason the Babylonian wise men could not read the
inscription was not that they could not recognize the letters but that they
did not know how to divide this series of letters into words or know what
vowels to supply. Depending on the various possible combinations, these
nine letters could be interpreted to represent a number of different
Aramaic sentences, including ‘she has counted the voice of Persia’ and
‘crush whoever has been peeled!’ Since none of these made much sense
and the Aramaic wise men faced severe reprisals if they got it wrong,
they prudently admitted they could not read the inscription. However,
Daniel was enabled by God to read the inscription in a way that
immediately persuades all those present. He interprets the nine
consonants, MN’TQLPRS, as consisting of three Aramaic words of three
letters each, and he then proceeds to interpret each of the three words on
three different levels by supplying different vowels at each level.
Furthermore, each of these multiple meanings refers to the image of a
pair of scales—an image that proves very significant to the date on
which Belshazzar’s feast took place. In short, Daniel interprets the
handwriting as an elaborate wordplay consisting of three sets of double
puns, all of which point to a pair of scales. Moreover, he does so on a day
when scales had special significance in Babylonian culture. For each of
the three words that Daniel identifies, he distinguishes three levels of
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meaning, each following from different vowels that are supplied with the
consonants. I will refer to these levels as A, B, and C:
It is the A–level that is preserved in the traditional biblical text, the
Masoretic Text, which does have a system for indicating vowels. Thus,
the A–level interpretation is reflected in the familiar vocalization of our
bible translations: MN’ is read as mene (more precisely, mĕnē’), TQL as
tekel (tĕqēl), and PRS as peres (pĕrēs). On this level, it turns out that each
of the words refers to a unit of weight. The first refers to the mina (~500
grams), the second to the shekel (~8 grams), and the third to the half–mina
(~250 grams). It is sometimes argued that pĕrēs refers to a half–shekel,
but this is a mistake. These units should not be regarded as representing
coins or symbolizing a succession of kings, but rather as indicating the
weight stones used by merchants to weigh out, on a pair of scales, specific
amounts of silver in buying and selling merchandise. Many such weight
stones have been found in archaeological excavations, some of them
inscribed with the very words of the riddle: MN’, TQL, and PRS. In the
context of Daniel 5, these standardized weight stones represent God’s
standards of justice against which human actions are measured. This first
level of meaning is not separately explained by Daniel; it is simply
indicated by the traditional vocalization of these words. The B–level of
interpretation refers to actions on the part of God. By adding a different
set of vowels to the consonants of the three words of the riddle, these
words are transformed into Aramaic verbs, with God as the implied
subject. For MN’, Daniel explains in v. 26 that it means ‘God has

reckoned (or numbered) your kingdom.’ In this case, the verb translated
‘has reckoned’ is mĕnāh, a variant spelling of the word for ‘mina,’ but
now revocalized as mĕnā’. In the case of TQL, the B–level meaning is
expressed by Daniel’s words, ‘you have been weighed’ of v. 27. Here
again, a noun designating a weight is transformed into a verb. Underlying
this interpretation is the vocalization tĕqal, which means ‘he has weighed,’
with God as the implied subject and Belshazzar as the implied object. As
for PRS, Daniel explains in v. 28 that on this level it means ‘your kingdom
has been assessed,’ assuming the vocalization pĕras, ‘He has assessed.’ It
should be pointed out that this verb does not mean ‘divide’ in Aramaic, as
many bible translations render it, but rather ‘assess.’ Thus, Daniel gives
an interpretation that transforms each of the three words of the riddle into
verbs describing a divine action of appraisal: he reckoned, he weighed, he
assessed. The connection with a pair of scales is made explicit in v. 27:
‘You have been weighed on the scales.’ Finally, on the C–level, Daniel’s
interpretation of the riddle again shows that he is revocalizing the three
weight names he started out with. In v. 26, he explains the third meaning
of MN’ as ‘he paid it out’ (not ‘brought it to an end’), indicating God as
the subject and Belshazzar’s kingdom as the object. This again
presupposes the vocalization mĕnā’ but it now uses the verb in another of
its attested senses. In v. 27, he explains the third meaning of TQL as ‘you
have been found wanting.’ This presupposes a very ingenious reading in
which TQL takes the Aramaic verbal form tiqqal, meaning ‘you are too
light’ (the doubling of the middle consonant would not have been indicated
in the consonantal spelling). To be found too light on the scales is to be
found wanting, or not to measure up to God’s standards. The third level of
meaning for the third word, PRS, is the most dramatic of all. Daniel
explains it in v. 28 as follows: ‘you have been given to the Medes and
Persians.’ He is here alluding to the Aramaic word pāras, which means
‘Persia.’ This is a direct reference to the critical military situation in
which Belshazzar finds himself; namely, that he is under siege by the
forces of Persia under Cyrus the Great, which were to enter Babylon that
very night and kill him. Daniel mentions both Medes and Persians because
these were the two constituent ethnic groups of Cyrus’s empire. Thus, each
of the C–level meanings refers to the verdict that God pronounces on
Belshazzar and his kingdom. The kingdom will be paid out like silver
given in payment to Cyrus, Belshazzar himself has been found too light
on the scales of God’s judgment, and Persia will be the means God uses
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to carry out his verdict. We can summarize the foregoing discussion by
giving a new and literal translation of the crucial vv. 26–28, indicating in
each case the vowels which are explicitly (in the case of level A in the
Masoretic Text) or implicitly (in the case of levels B and C) given to the
three trilateral roots MN’, TQL, and PRS: ‘Mina (mĕnē’): God has
reckoned (mĕnā’) your kingdom, and paid it out (mĕnā’). Shekel (tĕqēl):
you have been weighed (tĕqal) and found too light (tiqqal). Half–mina
(pĕrēs): your kingdom has been assessed (pĕras) and given to the Medes
and Persians (pāras).’ Thus, we see that each of the three levels of
meaning is thematically unified: three weights on level A, three acts of
evaluation on level B, and three references to judgment on level C.
Furthermore, the central image of God weighing Babylon in the scales of
his justice ties the various levels together: level A names the weight stones
that symbolize his standards of justice, level B designates the process of
weighing that stands for God’s acts of judicial appraisal, and level C
describes the outcome of that process in the tipping of the scales and the
payment of the silver weighed out, representing God’s verdict and
sentence over Babylon. It is the central image of the scales that provides
us with the connection to the historicity of Daniel’s book. The
connection consists in the remarkable coincidence of the date of
Belshazzar’s feast and of the annual rising of the constellation Libra
(the Scales). If we take seriously the historical reality of the court of
Belshazzar on the eve of the Persian conquest as it is depicted in Daniel 5,
we discover that the reference to a pair of scales takes on unexpected
significance in connection with the Babylonian astrology of the time. That
astrology was prominent in Babylonia in Daniel’s day does not need to be
argued. This is demonstrated clearly by many cuneiform astrological
documents that have been excavated and by the mocking words of Isaiah
when he predicted the fall of the neo–Babylonian empire: ‘Let your
astrologers come forward, those stargazers who make predictions month
by month, let them save you from what is coming upon you’ (Isaiah 47:13).
It is not surprising, therefore, that Daniel’s book pictures the wise men at
the courts of both Nebuchadnezzar and Belshazzar as predominately
astrologers, especially the group called ‘the Chaldeans’ (Daniel 2:4, 5,
10; 5:7, 11). A significant feature of Babylonian astrology was the
correlation of terrestrial and celestial signs. There is considerable
evidence that the Babylonian diviners saw heaven and earth as mirror
images of each other, so that an omen on earth had its counterpart in

heaven, and vice versa. This belief in a correlation of signs is the basic
point of the so–called ‘Diviner’s Manual’ published by Oppenheim in
1974. The obvious implication of such a belief for the story of Daniel 5
is, therefore, that astrologers at Belshazzar’s court would expect there to
be a celestial counterpart to the ominous portent that had appeared on
the palace wall. Such a counterpart would be particularly apt in the case
of a written sign, because the astrologers considered the celestial
phenomena that they studied to be the šitir šam , ‘the writing of heaven.’ It
is especially significant, therefore, that the Akkadian name for the
constellation Libra is zibānītu, meaning ‘balance’ or ‘scales.’ In other
words, the scales that were so prominent in Daniel’s interpretation of the
writing on the wall had a counterpart in the scales that belonged to the
‘writing of heaven,’ namely the constellation Libra. In fact, our name
Libra is simply the Latin equivalent, like its counterparts in Greek,
Aramaic, and Hebrew, of the Akkadian zibānītu, which had been the
standard name of the constellation in Mesopotamia since the 2nd
millennium BC. Even today the constellation is known as ‘die Waage’ in
German, ‘la Balance’ in French, and ‘de Weegschaal’ in Dutch. Every
astrologer at Belshazzar’s court would have known that ‘the scales,’
both in Akkadian and Aramaic, was the name of a prominent
constellation in the sky. However, what does this constellation have to do
with this story in Daniel? To understand this, we need to take note of two
significant dates that have emerged from the cuneiform documents which
have come to light over the last ~150 years. The first concerns the date of
the fall of Babylon. Belshazzar’s feast as narrated in Daniel 5 takes place
on the eve of the fall of Babylon, as the last verse of the chapter clearly
states. This was a momentous event in world history, marking the
transition from one great empire, the neo–Babylonian, to another, the
Persian. We now know from the so–called Nabonidus Chronicle that
Babylon fell to the Persians on the 16th day of Tashritu of the 17th year of
Nabonidus, the senior partner with Belshazzar in the ‘double kingship’ of
that time. This date works out to October 12th, 539 BC in the calendar we
use today, and it is quite securely established in the chronology of the
ancient Near East. Since Babylonian dates were calculated as beginning
with nightfall, not midnight, the 16th of Tashritu would have included the
evening preceding October 12th. Consequently Belshazzar’s feast, which
took place during the night of October 11th–12th according to our
calendar, would have taken place, according to the Babylonian calendar,
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on the 16th day of Tashritu, the same day as the fall of Babylon. After all,
the whole point of the story is that the execution of God’s judgment on
Babylon followed immediately after its announcement in the handwriting
on the wall. The riddle of the scales therefore appeared on that exact
date. The second date that is relevant for our purposes concerns the
annual morning rising of the constellation Libra. In the course of 1 year,
the stars and constellations along the ecliptic (‘the path of the moon’)
become successively visible on the eastern horizon just before sunrise,
each appearing, for all practical purposes, on the same date each year.
This was the basis of the ancient calendar, in which months and dates
were set according to the annual morning rising of the various stars and
constellations. These annual morning risings were also significant in
Babylonian astrology. According to a widely used Babylonian astrological
handbook called MUL.APIN, the annual morning rising of the
constellation zibānītu (that is, Libra) occurred on the 15th day of Tashritu.
Modern astronomical calculations show that for the year 539 BC and
Babylon’s latitude this date was in fact quite accurate. If we put together
these dates, we come to the startling conclusion that the mysterious riddle
of Daniel 5, which alludes on three different levels to the image of a pair
of scales, appeared just after the annual rising of the constellation called
‘the Scales’ (zibānītu). In fact, when Daniel says to Belshazzar in v. 27,
‘You have been weighed in the scales,’ it could also be understood to mean
‘You have been weighed in Libra,’ the constellation which had just risen in
the sky, according to both astrological lore and actual fact, the morning
before. It now becomes clear that Daniel’s interpretation of the riddle not
only makes fools of the Babylonian wise men in general by deciphering
the sophisticated Aramaic wordplay of the enigmatic inscription that had
baffled them, but it also turns the tables specifically on the astrologers by
interpreting a celestial phenomenon in a thoroughly anti–astrological
way. Thus, ‘the Scales’ in the sky do not represent mighty gods who
determine terrestrial affairs (the Babylonian belief), but they symbolize an
instrument in the hand of Daniel’s God, ‘the Lord of Heaven’ of v. 22. The
message is plain: it is not the stars that determine the fate of nations, but
the God of the Jews, whose temple vessels had just been desecrated by
Belshazzar in his drunken revelry. The constellation Libra, therefore,
becomes a symbol of the sovereign judgment of God, who weighs
Belshazzar and his empire in the scales of his justice. With exquisite irony,
Daniel simultaneously alludes to another name that the Babylonian

astrologers applied to Libra, namely kikkab kitti u mišāri, ‘the star of
justice and right,’ and he turns it against the Babylonian king. What
bearing does the foregoing argument have on the historicity of Daniel? It
would be foolish to claim that it proves the factual accuracy of the story
told in Daniel 5, but it certainly lends unexpected support to such an
assumption. It seems a stretch to imagine that the virtual simultaneity of
the rising of Libra and the appearance of the riddle of the scales is
merely a coincidence, especially since the two phenomena match each
other so well. In any case, the surprising discovery of the relevance of
Libra to Daniel 5 is only one of a number of ways in which this chapter
seems to be based on historical reality. It is now firmly established that
Belshazzar did in fact exist and that he had been entrusted with the
kingship by his father Nabonidus. There is no doubt that the prominence of
astrologers in the story of Belshazzar’s feast reflects the historical reality
of the neo–Babylonian court. In fact, Assyriologists have often been
impressed by the degree to which Daniel 5 is based on historical fact.
Similarly, the classic critical commentary on Daniel by Montgomery
suggests that the mysterious riddle itself is ‘based on the correct historical
tradition of Cyrus’ conquest.’ Even the enigmatic Darius the Mede has
recently been rehabilitated as a historical personage. A good case can
also be made for the plausibility of Belshazzar’s feast as being part of a
Babylonian akītu festival on this date. As the German critical scholar
Klaus Koch puts it, ‘Accordingly, the book of Daniel, or at least its older
part (the Daniel legends), has command of a relatively good knowledge of
Babylonian history in the 6th century.’”
Thus, now turning specifically to Daniel’s interpretation, what is certain is
that each of the terms in v. 25 is taken up and explained in vv. 26–27 by
interpreting them in light of their related verb forms. So, the term mᵊnēʾ is
explained by the verb mᵊnâ [or “count”]. So, the interpretation of mᵊnēʾ is
that “God has audited” Belshazzar’s kingdom [the years of his reign] and
“has ended it.” Furthermore, the repetition of the word mᵊnēʾ serves to
underscore the certainty of the case [Genesis 41:32]; no extension of time
would be granted to Belshazzar. Likewise, the term tᵊqēl is explained by
the verb tᵊqal [or “weigh”]. Thus, God had “weighed” Belshazzar “on the
scales” and Daniel concluded: “you don’t measure up.” The Aramaic
mōʾzanyāʾ [for “scales”] was a commonly shared Semitic term [Ugaritic
mznm; Akkadian zibānītu; Egyptian wdn].
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Finally, the term pᵊrēs is explained by the verb pᵊras [or “break in two”].
This term is distinguished from the first two: it appears in the plural as
parsîn [v. 25], but in the singular as pᵊrēs [v. 28]. The reason for this
juxtaposition is clear in v. 28 that pᵊrēs is related to the verb pᵊras, but the
plural form parsîn has a connection to the final clause of v. 28: “and will
be given to the Medes and Persians [pārās].” Thus, we see the word in two
different forms because there is a double play–on–words involved. In other
words, the singular form pᵊrēs [v. 28] is in contrast to the plural form
parsîn [v. 25], and the double wordplay involves the verb pᵊras along with
the similar sounding proper noun pārās [or “Persians”]. However,
curiously the LXXθ has the singular form phares [v. 25] in contrast to the
Aramaic plural form parsîn, because the LXXθ was attempting to
harmonize parsîn [v. 25] with the singular pᵊrēs [v. 28]. Thus, it is possible
that the original form in v. 25 was not the plural form parsîn, but a
singular form [since Daniel’s explanation in v. 28 has the singular], and
that a later copyist recognized the double wordplay and changed it to the
plural form accordingly. Nevertheless, not only was Belshazzar’s kingdom
to be “divided,” but it was going to be conquered by the “Persians” [the
dominant people of the Medo–Persian army]. In fact, notice that the
“Persians” are interpreted as “Medes and Persians” [the combined Medo–
Persian Empire]. This is ironically contrary to the critical view that
Daniel’s four kingdoms involve a separate Median kingdom arriving
before Persia [recall Daniel 2]. However, Daniel will symbolize the Medes
and Persians with one beast [later in Daniel 8:20]. Yes, it is true that the
Medes once had an empire north of Babylon, but the Medes were
conquered by Cyrus, so that Babylon fell to a Persian–Median empire!
Michael Wilson [21st century biblical scholar] summarizes and concludes:
“There are many interpretations which mistakenly presuppose that mene,
tekel, and parsin are coins. Instone–Brewer takes all three terms to
describe coinage with ‘tekel’ being the Aramaic spelling of ‘shekel’ and
‘parsin’ probably representing a half ‘mena’. So understood, the
proportions of the coins are 60:1:30. A modern equivalent would be a
hand on the wall writing something like, ‘1 dollar, 1 dollar, 2 cents, 50
cents.’ Lucas finds the use of coinage to measure the worth of people in a
Talmud reference, which esteems a certain man as ‘a mina son of a half–
mina,’ that is, much more worthy than his father. Polaski sees the entire
mode of revelation as employing key elements associated with the exercise

of imperial authority: the importance of inscriptions; the hand being ‘sent’
like an ambassador; and the listing of coins as an allusion to the royal
treasury. He believes that the following meaning is communicated: ‘An
empire that neither comprehends inscriptions nor attends to careful
accounting is no empire at all.’ Fewell remarks, ‘The image of coinage
and the verbs themselves both suggest that the issue is one of value, and
indeed the problem of value has been the crux of the story. Belshazzar has
not valued his father’s example. He has not valued the captured vessels.
He has not valued his father’s chief sage. He has not valued his father’s
God. Instead, he has valued the services of incapable sages. He has
valued gods who do not see, who do not hear, and who do not know.’
Wolters points out that treating mene, teqel, and peres as coins is mistaken
for the simple reason that there was no such thing as coinage in
Mesopotamia in Belshazzar’s period of history. Even later there were
never coins either in Babylonia or Palestine that weighed as much as a
mina or half–mina. Instead, mene, teqel, and peres are units of weight. A
common way of understanding the interpretation of vv. 25–28 is to see
each word functioning as a pun. For example, a common rendering is as
follows: MENE is related to the verb MNH (meaning ‘numbered’); TEKEL
is related to the verb TQL (meaning ‘weighed’); PARSIN is related to the
verb PRS (meaning ‘divided’ or ‘broken’). However, Wolters has
persuasively argued that Daniel’s interpretation involves dividing the nine
consonants into three units of three letters each. Different ways of
vocalizing the combinations of these consonants explains how it is possible
to apply a different level of meaning to each unit. Wolters argues that the
vocalization involved in all of these three levels always presupposes the
image of a pair of scales, representing God’s judgment. It is additionally
significant that the annual rise of Libra—symbolized by scales—
occurred on the very eve of Babylon’s fall to the Persians. When God
enables Daniel to decode an otherwise undecodable series of consonants,
he reveals that it is he, not the Babylonian astrologers, who knows the
future and, indeed, he even controls it. Furthermore, Kraeling, Ginsberg,
and Freedman have sought to identify each term with a particular
Babylonian king. Kraeling regards Evil–Merodach and Neriglissar as the
two minas, the 8–month rule of the boy king Labashi–Marduk as the shekel
and Nabonidus with his co–regent Belshazzar as two pereshin. Ginsberg
suggests Nebuchadnezzar (mina), Evil–Merodach (shekel) and Belshazzar
(peresh). Freedman and Cross go for Nebuchadnezzar, Nabonidus, and
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Belshazzar. But, this is highly speculative and there is no indication from
the text that this is warranted. Notwithstanding that the underlying
imagery is of weights rather than coins, it remains the case that God in
judgment is assessing the value of Belshazzar and of the Babylonian
empire. Fewell explains, ‘The portrayal of Belshazzar as a weak king
communicates also the irony that the man of inappropriate values is
himself of little value. He is of little value to Daniel; he is of little value to
God. Thus, the images of weights and balances fit comfortably with the
images of lifting and lowering: the weak king of little value has tried to lift
himself, that is, to make himself valuable, but to no avail: ‘you have been
weighed in the balances and have been found wanting,’ says Daniel.
Weighed against whom? According to this reading—Nebuchadnezzar. If
Nebuchadnezzar is a minah, Belshazzar is only a shekel (a ratio of 60 to 1)
and while the Medes and Persians (half–minahs) may be less valuable
than Nebuchadnezzar, they are a good deal better than Belshazzar.’
Instone–Brewer suggests that if they had been able to read the words they
may have attempted to provide interpretations (the monetary value of a
sacrifice to be offered to Nabu, or the weight of gold soldiers would
capture in battle, or numbered and weighed are the Persians). Calvin
interprets v. 8 to mean that God blinded the Chaldeans. Lacocque
proposed that the words were Aramaic, which had been translated into
cuneiform characters. Along similar lines Instone–Brewer suggests that
the original writing was cuneiform numerals, which Daniel translated into
Aramaic. However, God gave the interpretation to Daniel. If Instone–
Brewer’s proposal is correct Daniel interpreted a sequence of three
vertical strokes and a cross as numbers and then converted them into the
names of the weights the numbers represented. Segal notes that Jewish
scholars have proposed differing ways in which these words were coded,
but remarks, ‘It is unclear why any of these solutions would pose an
insurmountable challenge for the wise men to solve.’ Indeed, Segal goes
on to argue on the basis of v. 8 that the problem was not that the wise men
were unable to interpret the words but that they were not able to read
them, implying that only the king actually saw the vision of the hand and
the inscription. Since the lamp should have made such a vision and
writing visible to all, everybody else, including the Chaldeans, are left
bewildered as to what the Belshazzar experienced. Thus, they are placed
in a position parallel to the Chaldeans of Daniel 2, who were unable to
interpret Nebuchadnezzar’s dream because they had no access to it, no

experience of it. Segal’s reading is ingenious but I doubt he is correct.
Wolters reasons that it is reasonable to expect that Aramaic words were
written on the wall, both without vocalization and also without word–
division. Consequently, given the lack of a literary context, ‘it was indeed
impossible to read the inscription, that is, to know what vocalization and
word–division should be supplied for the nine–letter series of consonants
written on the wall. The wise men are being asked to ‘read out’ the
inscription, which could only be done by dividing into words and then
vocalizing the consonants of the inscription.’ Wolters persuasively shows
that the Chaldeans were confronted with a highly ambiguous consonantal
text, by giving many examples of different ways the nine letters have been
construed by modern scholars. Indeed, if word–division was not indicated
then they ‘did not necessarily represent three words of three letters each,’
allowing for divisions yielding many different possible readings: ‘she has
counted the voice of Persia,’ ‘what shall I weight, a half–mina?’, ‘who has
caused Persia to stumble?’, ‘whoever you are, Persia is insignificant,’
‘crush whoever has been peeled,’ ‘he has crushed by a sign of a scale.’
Daniel, in prophet–like style, indicts Belshazzar: ‘you did not honour the
God who holds in his hand your life and all your ways’ (v. 23), which, he
adds, immediately explains why God chose to reveal his hand, writing that
which demonstrated precisely this reality. It is the same hand that wrote
on the wall which determines Belshazzar’s destiny. Fewell disagrees with
Lacocque’s view that Belshazzar was deliberately issuing a direct
challenge to God. She finds no evidence that Belshazzar even recognized
the existence of God. However, it is more likely that Belshazzar simply
trivializes this God whom he knows had come to mean a great deal to
Nebuchadnezzar. Fewell goes beyond the evidence in supposing that the
value of a king consisted in whether he was a strong king or not:
‘Nebuchadnezzar was valuable enough to God to have been spared in
spite of his presumption. His redeeming quality was his strength. Strong
kings can be successful agents.’ Consequently she sees Belshazzar as
being of no use to God, because he is a weak king, and this serves to
magnify his presumption. But the reason supplied by the text for his demise
is simply his failure to acknowledge that God is sovereign, and this indeed
has been the consistent contextual stress (Daniel 4:32). Fewell censures
Daniel because he ‘never bothers to distinguish between his words and
those of God.’ She speaks of Daniel’s arrogance and resentment: ‘How
ironic that Daniel grows ever more like his friend Nebuchadnezzar.
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He wields the words of life and death as easily as this king wields power
over life and death (v. 19).’ Such cynicism is unwarranted. In Daniel 4 we
noted how Nebuchadnezzar was comparable in some respects with David,
and Daniel with Nathan. Thus, what we find in Daniel 5 is the same
boldness of a prophet. Revelation is implied rather than explicit. Indeed,
as Wooden points out, the visions of both Daniel 7 and 8 predate this
climactic event, so that it has already been made plain to Daniel both that
the Babylonian Empire will come to an end and that the Persian Empire
would rise to take its place. Wooden reasons, ‘Thus, through the dating
given to these visionary experiences, Daniel is given the necessary
revelations—his own visions and guided interpretation—so that by the last
day of Belshazzar, the interpreter had sufficient revealed information to
make sense of the writing on the wall; with those revelations and his
superior intellect (Daniel 1:17) and ability to solve riddles (Daniel 5:12,
16), he knows what to make of the words through the use of word plays.’
There is no way of knowing to what extent God’s spirit gives Daniel
immediate insight and to what extent God is merely using Daniel’s long–
developed abilities. Returning to the words used in the revelatory event, it
seems clear that the climactic word peres (v. 28) plays upon ‘Persian,’ and
ominously points ahead to the impending disaster at the hands of the
Persians. As Guglielmo argues there is every reason to suppose that a
double meaning is intended: ‘Prs—your kingdom has been divided
(perisath) and has been given to the Medes and Persians (prs).’”
7) What was the outcome of Belshazzar’s feast? (5:29–31)
Starting with vv. 29–30, we read: “Then Belshazzar gave orders to clothe
Daniel in purple, to place a chain of gold around his neck, and to proclaim
him the third highest ruler of the kingdom. That night Belshazzar, king of
the Chaldeans, was killed.”
So, despite Daniel’s refusal of Belshazzar’s rewards [v. 17], he still
ordered for Daniel to be honoured, though this was probably in mockery.
Nevertheless, Belshazzar died that very night. He thought he was secure
behind Babylon’s walls, but that night [12th of October in 539 b.c.], a
general of Cyrus named Ugbaru [or Gobryas] took the city with hardly a
battle. Belshazzar’s father Nabonidus had already been defeated in a
previous battle and had sought refuge in the neighbouring city of Borsippa.

However, Berossus claims that Cyrus did not execute Nabonidus, and
instead deported him to Carmania [Josephus, C. Ap. 1.20.153]. There are a
number of accounts of Babylon’s fall which differ in some details:
1. The Cyrus Cylinder says that Cyrus entered Babylon unopposed
and captured Nabonidus.
2. The Babylonian Chronicle says that Nabonidus fled following a
revolt against him in Babylonia and Cyrus’ capture of Sippar
without a fight. He was later captured when he returned to
Babylon. Cyrus entered Babylon without a battle.
3. The Dynastic Prophecy says that Cyrus sent Nabonidus into exile.
4. Berossus says that Cyrus captured Babylon while Nabonidus was
besieged in Borsippa. Nabonidus then surrendered and was sent
into exile in Carmania.
5. Herodotus says that Cyrus captured Babylon by temporarily
diverting the course of the Euphrates when the Babylonians were
feasting and dancing. His troops waded along the river bed where it
passed through the city walls.
6. Xenophon says that the Persians took the city at night and that
Gobryas, one of Cyrus’ generals, killed the Babylonian king, a
riotous, indulgent, cruel, and godless young man.
Gleason Archer [20th century biblical scholar] explains the details:
“Babylon was considered impregnable because of its magnificent
fortifications. Herodotus described it as 120 stadia square, surrounded by
a large moats and defended by a wall 50 royal cubits wide and 200 royal
cubits high (~330 ft.), with 100 strongly fortified gates. The Persian troops
could breach the walls of the city only by a surprise strategem. Later on,
in the reign of Darius I (522–486 BC), Herodotus said that young Darius
was compelled to subdue the Babylonians, who did not recognize his claim
to the throne. Since Cyrus had never dismantled Babylon’s fortifications,
the besiegers faced essentially the same problem as in 539 BC: ‘The
Babylonians, however, cared not a whit for Darius’ siege. Mounting upon
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the battlements that crowned their walls, they insulted and jeered at
Darius and his mighty host. One even shouted to them and said, ‘Why do
you sit there, Persians? Why don’t you go back to your homes? Till mules
foal you will not take our city.’’ This same attitude may have
characterized the defenders in Belshazzar’s day, especially since the city
had not been stormed by invaders in over 1,000 years. At any rate, these
besieged Babylonians were completely unconcerned about the enemy
forces encamped outside their walls. Unknown to them, Cyrus’ resourceful
commander, Ugbaru (referred to in the Chronicle as governor of Gutium),
had diverted the waters of the Euphrates to an old channel dug by a
previous ruler (Queen Nitocris, according to Herodotus 1.184), suddenly
reducing the water level well below the river–gates. Before long the
Persian besiegers would come wading in at night and clamber up the
riverbank walls before the guards knew what was happening.”
Finally in v. 31, we read: “Darius the Mede took the kingdom at age 62.”
The identification of “Darius the Mede” has been a perplexing issue, since
we have no historical record for this person outside Daniel’s book,
allowing critical scholars to claim that “Darius the Mede” was either a
purely fictitious character, or was confused with Darius I [522–486 b.c.].
However, many other scholars do believe that there really was a “Darius”
of Median descent. In other words, Cyrus appointed a high–ranking Mede
to rule as viceroy over Babylon while he returned to dwell in one or more
of his royal cities in Persia as the ultimate ruler of the Persian Empire.
Gleason Archer [20th century biblical scholar] continues: “There are
several indications in Daniel’s text that Darius was not king in his own
right but had been temporarily appointed to the throne by some higher
authority. In Daniel 9:1 it is stated that Darius ‘was made king.’ The
passive stem (hophal) is used in the verb homlaḵ, rather than the usual
mālaḵ (‘became king’), which would have been used had he obtained the
throne by conquest or by inheritance. In Daniel 5:31 we are told that
Darius ‘received’ (qabbēl) the kingship, as if it had been entrusted to him
by a higher authority. It is also appropriate to point out that subordinate
or vassal kings were similarly appointed by Cyrus according to the
Behistun Rock inscription set up by Darius I in the late 6th century B.C.
Thus Darius’ own forebear, Hystaspes, is said to have been ‘made king’
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during the time of Cyrus the Great. As the incumbent of the time– In fact, Xenophon contradicted Herodotus by saying that there was a
honored throne of Babylon, it was only a matter of proper protocol for Median king named Cyaxares II that still ruled over the Medes at the time
Cyrus’ appointee to assume in his official decrees the same titles as had of Babylon’s fall. Thus, here is a summary of all these relationships:
always attached to that title. Thus, the decree of Daniel 6:25 is addressed
to the inhabitants of ‘all the earth’ (ʾar āʾ could also be translated ‘land,’
rather than being as comprehensive as ‘the earth’). Traditional titulary,
going back to the time of Hammurabi (18th century B.C.), was šár kiššati
(‘king of the universe’). Therefore this phrase need not be construed as
implying that Darius was claiming to be king over the entire inhabited
world, including Persia itself, as some critics assumed.”

So, not only was Darius I a Persian, but Darius Hystaspes was young when
he began his rule. Thus, the historical development of the Persian Empire
would easily allow for a viceroy of Median descent, because the Medes
and Persians were closely linked, and although the Medes were initially
the dominant power, eventually the Persians became the dominant power.

Eugene Merrill [21st century biblical scholar] says: “The Median throne
remained vacant from 653–625 BC because of Scythian domination of
northwest Iran, but in time Cyaxares (625–585 BC) overthrew the
Scythians and the Assyrians, establishing Median control over all of
northern Mesopotamia and Iran. He also reduced Persia to submission,
setting up Cambyses as governor over that province. Cyaxares was
succeeded by his son Astyages (585–550 BC), whose daughter would be
the mother of the great Cyrus II.”
Thus, the domination of the Medes eventually gave way to the Persians as
a result of the rise in power of Cyrus II [the ruler of Anshan], who then
became conqueror of Babylon in 539 b.c. His genealogy is complicated,
but basically he descended from both groups, because his father was
Persian and his mother was Median. In other words, Herodotus says that
since Cyrus II was a descendant of the Median king Astyages, the
granddaughter of Astyages [Mandane] married the Persian vassal of her
father [Cambyses I], and to this marriage was born Cyrus II. Nevertheless,
scholars debate on how and when this shift in power took place. Some
believe that the Medes were conquered and made subservient to Persia
before Babylon’s fall, while others believe that the Medes continued to be
the dominant partner until after Babylon’s fall.
So, what we do know is that Cyrus II was able to unify several Persian
tribes and eventually helped to merge the Medes and Persians. However,
the resulting union was a kingdom in which both the Medes and the
Persians played an important part.
David Clines [21st century biblical scholar] says: “By his conquest of the
Median Empire (550 b.c.) Cyrus had in the first place welded Medes and
Persians into a unified nation. Because Cyrus remained respectful of
Median culture, made Median Ecbatana one of his royal residences, and
often appointed Medes to high positions in his provincial government, his
kingdom became known as that of the ‘Medes and Persians’ (Daniel 5:28;
6:8, 15; Esther 10:2). But secondly, his conquest over Media had given
him rule over its former provinces of Assyria, Mesopotamia, Syria,
Armenia, and Cappadocia.”
Thus, it would not be surprising for Cyrus to appoint as viceroy over the
newly conquered Babylonian domain a trusted lieutenant who was a
Mede! In fact, we know from the Nabonidus Chronicle that the Medes
played an active part in the capture of Babylon and that a Mede by the
name of Ugbaru/Gubaru/Gobryas was in charge of Cyrus’ forces!

We read: “The 14th day, Sippar was seized without battle. Nabonidus fled.
The 16th day, Gobryas (Ugbaru), the governor of Gutium and the army of
Cyrus entered Babylon without battle. Afterwards Nabonidus was arrested
in Babylon when he returned there. Till the end of the month, the shield–
carrying Gutians were staying within Esagila but nobody carried arms in
Esagila and its pertinent buildings, the correct time for a ceremony was
not missed. In the month of Arahshamnu, the 3rd day, Cyrus entered
Babylon, green twigs were spread in front of him—the state of ‘Peace’ was
imposed upon the city. Cyrus sent greetings to all Babylon. Gobryas, his
governor, installed sub–governors in Babylon. From the month of Kislimu
to the month of Addaru, the gods of Akkad which Nabonidus had made
come down to Babylon returned to their sacred cities. In the month of
Arahshamnu, on the night of the 11th day, Gobryas died.”
So, this Median governor “Gobryas” [Xenophon; Cyr. 4.6, 7.5, 26–30]
was also referred to as “Ugbaru” or “Gubaru” and he died soon after the
capture of Babylon. Some scholars have linked him to “Darius the Mede”
because Cyrus had strong links to the Medes, and they played a significant
role in the capture of Babylon. Furthermore, Ugbaru/Gubaru was a Mede
because he had been “governor of Gutium.” The Guti were a mountainous
people of ancient Mesopotamia who lived primarily around Hamadân,
which had been the capital of the Median Empire known as Ecbatana.
Cyrus himself had close connections with Ecbatana and the Guti people.
Roy Hayden [21st century biblical scholar] says: “Ecbatana is mentioned
in cuneiform inscriptions from Tiglath–pileser I (1100 b.c.) as kar–kassi,
(‘Kassite town’). Ctesias attributed the founding of the city to Semiramis
(800 b.c.), who built a palace there for herself; but Herodotus claimed the
city was founded or rebuilt by Deioces (Daiaukku) the Mede (700 b.c.) on
the site of Elippi, an ancient city of the Mandā. Cyrus captured the city
from Astyages (548 b.c.), and later brought Croesus there as captive.
Cyrus and other Persian kings used to spend the two summer months
there yearly, owing to the comparative coolness of the climate. The
winters, however, are long and severe, with much snow.”
Thus, either Cyrus appointed a Mede to be king of Babylon, or he simply
turned the rule of Babylon over to Cyaxares II [his uncle and Median
king], after conquering it. Nevertheless, we may not be certain as to why
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Daniel calls him “Darius the Mede,” but having a king or ruler of Median
descent should not be surprising. In other words, even though the Medes
are thought to have been conquered by the Persians in 550 b.c., there is
evidence for a king of the Medes after this date!
R. K. Harrison [20th century biblical scholar] says: “It is known that in the
10th year of Nabonidus (546 b.c.), a cuneiform text at Harran referred
specifically to the ‘king of the Medes,’ thus making it very clear that
‘Darius the Mede’ was a real historical personage, whatever his identity.”
So, although there is no historical evidence for a person by this name, this
may be an alternative designation or throne name for someone else. In
other words, “Darius” may have been an honorific title like “Caesar.”
Gleason Archer [20th century biblical scholar] continues: “The name
‘Darius’ may have been a title of honour, somewhat as ‘Caesar’ or
‘Augustus’ became in the Roman Empire. It is apparently related to ‘dara’
(‘king’ in Avestan Persian); thus the Old Persian Darayavahush may have
meant ‘The Royal One.’ It was only natural that this honorific title be
used of the official viceroy of the Medo–Persian Empire in this account,
rather than his personal name.”
John Goldingay [21st century biblical scholar] summarizes and concludes:
“Those who are inclined to take Daniel as historical point out that known
history once contained no reference to Belshazzar. Darius might have
been a throne–name for some ruler known to us by another name. Among
the identifications proposed for this ruler are Xerxes or Artaxerxes (Old
Greek); Cyrus the Persian himself; Cyrus’s son Cambyses, who at some
time was titular king of Babylon; the last Median king Astyages; his son
Cyaxares II, referred to only by Xenophon (Cyropaedia 1–8); Cyrus’s
general Gobryas (Gubaru/Ugbaru, Old Persian Gaubaruwa) who
captured Babylon for the Persians, ruled there on Cyrus’s behalf for a
period, and as governor of Gutium could be thought of as a Mede; and—
on the hypothesis that this Gobryas/Ugbaru died very soon after the fall of
Babylon (so one understanding of the Babylonian Chronicle)—Cyrus’s
governor in Babylon, another Gubaru.”
Thus, here is an extensive overview of the views that Goldingay listed:

1. Cyrus the Persian
This is based on the conjunction waw as explicative: “in the reign
of Darius, that is, Cyrus the Persian” [later in Daniel 6:28].
However, equating Darius with Cyrus is problematic. Cyrus was
not a Mede [even though his mother was a Mede], and Daniel
referred to him as “Cyrus, king of Persia” [later in Daniel 10:1].
Furthermore, Cyrus was not 62 years old during the conquest of
Babylon, as there is dispute about the date of his birth. In other
words, most sources give either 600 b.c. or 576/575 b.c. for his
birth year. Thus, if 576/575 b.c. is correct, then Cyrus would have
been ~36 years old during the conquest of Babylon. However, if
600 b.c. is correct, then Cyrus would have been ~70 years old when
he died in combat in 530 b.c. [against the Massagetae in the
Jaxartes River valley in central Asia]. This old age is very unlikely.
2. Ugbaru/Gubaru [appointed by Cyrus to rule over Babylon]
This is based on the fact that Babylon refers to a small portion of
the Medo–Persian Empire. In other words, since Ugbaru conquered
Babylon on the 12th of October in 539 b.c., Cyrus entered shortly
afterwards on the 29th of October, and Cyrus then appointed
Ugbaru to rule in Babylon on his behalf. Thus, “Darius” was
simply another name for Ugbaru. Complicating this theory is that
the Nabonidus Chronicle mentions both an Ugbaru and a Gubaru,
and some scholars take these to be variant spellings of the same
name, and that this person is also the same as Gobryas in the Greek
sources. However, other scholars differentiate Ugbaru and Gubaru.
Mark Mercer [20th century biblical scholar] summarizes this view:
“The evidence in favour of the identification of Ugbaru as the
vassal king of Babylon can be summarized as follows. First, the
change of Cyrus’ titulary from ‘King of Babylon, King of Lands’ to
simply ‘King of Lands’ and then back to ‘King of Babylon, King of
Lands’ during a 14–month period following the fall of Babylon
suggests the throne was vacant or that someone else was ‘King of
Babylon’ during the interim period in which Cyrus is called simply
‘King of Lands.’ Assuming that the throne of Babylon would not be
left vacant at such a crucial period in Cyrus’ reign, the most
logical choice for the position of ‘king of Babylon’ would be
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Ugbaru, the governor of Guti, who captured Babylon. Second, the
mere mention of Ugbaru in the Nabonidus Chronicle suggests his
royalty because of the extreme paucity of non–royal personages in
the Babylonian Chronicles. Finally, the record of Ugbaru’s death
suggests that he was king because with only one exception, all the
death dates in the Babylonian Chronicles refer to royalty.”
In response to Mercer, Ugbaru was indeed the conqueror of
Babylon, and his victory was recorded. However, there is a
question as to how long he reigned. The Nabonidus Chronicle
indicates that Ugbaru died on the night of the 11th day of the month
Arahshamnu, whereas earlier in the same passage Cyrus is said to
have entered Babylon on the 3rd day of Arahshamnu [also spelled
Marcheswan]. So, it is not clear from the passage whether Ugbaru
died a few days after Cyrus’ entry [on the 6th of November], or if
he died in the month Arahshamnu a year later. If the former is the
case, it is hard to see how the reference to “Darius the Mede” could
be equated with Ugbaru, since Daniel speaks of his reign [later in
Daniel 6:28; 9:1]. In other words, Ugbaru’s so–called reign was
only for a few weeks! But, if he died ~1 year later, then that would
be more realistic. Nevertheless, Ugbaru was the governor of
Gutium and it is possible that Xenophon identifies him as Gobryas.
3. Gubaru [appointed by Cyrus to rule over Babylon]
In contrast to the 2nd view, Ugbaru and Gubaru were not confused
names for the same individual, but were actually two individuals.
Thus, Ugbaru was the governor of Gutium who helped conquer
Babylon. But, when Cyrus entered the city on the 29th of October,
he appointed another individual named Gubaru to rule, because
Ugbaru either suffered from wounds in battle or had incurred a
fatal illness and died shortly thereafter on the 6th of November.
R. K. Harrison [20th century biblical scholar] confirms and says:
“The Nabonidus Chronicle mentioned two persons connected with
the fall of Babylon, namely Ugbaru and Gubaru, and faulty
translation of the Chronicle since 1882 has tended to confuse
their identities. It was on the basis of this misunderstanding that
scholars such as H. H. Rowley assumed that they were actually one

person, the Gobryas of Xenophon’s Cyropaedia, who died after the
fall of Babylon in 539 B.C. The translation of the Chronicle by
Sidney Smith in 1924, however, distinguished between Ugbaru and
Gubaru, and it is now apparent that the former, who was governor
of Gutium and an ally of Cyrus, took a prominent part in the
capture of Babylon and then died shortly afterward, presumably of
wounds sustained in the battle. Whereupon the other victorious
leader Gubaru, who with Ugbaru was apparently responsible for
diverting the river Euphrates so that his soldiers could capture the
city by infiltrating along the dried–up river bed, was appointed by
Cyrus as the governor of Babylon. He held this position for 14
years, and was mentioned in a number of cuneiform texts.”
Gleason Archer [20th century biblical scholar] likewise says: “Do
we have any inscriptional evidence for this Darius (Dār eyāwēš)?
Not under that name, perhaps. But we certainly do have frequent
references to a general named Gubaru (quite distinct from the
Ugbaru of Gutium who lived only a few weeks after the capture of
Babylon in 539 b.c.). A Gubaru appears as the governor of
Babylonia and of Ebir–nari (the western domains under Chaldean
sovereignty) in tablets dated from the 4th to the 8th year of Cyrus
(535–532 b.c.) and even as late as the 5th year of Cambyses (525
b.c.). It seems altogether probable that during the transitional
period of 539–538 he was appointed as viceroy over Babylonia, for
the purpose of bringing it into full submission and cooperation with
the Medo–Persian Empire, of which it had now become a part.”
However, there is no specific evidence which would show that
Gubaru was a Mede, a descendant of Ahasuerus, or a man who was
~60 years of age! Furthermore, in the records mentioned by
Archer, he is called a “governor” [not a “king”]. Also, the fact that
this Gubaru lived considerably longer after Babylon’s fall raises a
vital question: why does v. 31 clarify that Darius was already 62
years old at the time he began to reign?
Lester Grabbe [21st century 2nd Temple scholar] concludes: “In his
4th year Cyrus made another Gobryas satrap of ‘Babylon and
Ebir–nari’; this individual (probably not the same as the
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conqueror of Babylon) held the office until well into Cambyses’s
reign and possibly until the first years of Darius I. Although the
preserved accounts do not agree and show legendary elements,
Cyrus evidently met his death in a military campaign in 530 BC
and was succeeded by the crown prince Cambyses.”
4. Cambyses II [the Son of Cyrus]
In other words, Cambyses II ruled Persia from 530–522 b.c., and
he had connections to Babylon [participating each spring in the
annual New Year Festival], but he did not live there.
Stephen Miller [21st century biblical scholar] says: “A serious
problem with this view is the age of Cambyses. Daniel records that
Darius the Mede was 62 years old when he began to rule over
Babylon (v. 31), but Cambyses would have been much younger
than this in 539 b.c. Cambyses also could not be considered of
Median descent because both of his parents were Persians.”
5. Cyaxares II [the Median King]
This is the best theory to date, specifically deriving from the fact
that Herodotus and Xenophon have contradictory accounts
regarding the accession of Cyrus and the existence of a Median
king at the time of Babylon’s fall. So, while most scholars have
relied on Herodotus’ Histories, recent scholarship argues that it is
actually the account of Xenophon’s Cyropaedia that preserves the
more accurate record, at least in regard to these matters! For
example, Herodotus claimed that Cyrus overthrew the previous
Median king [Astyages] in a coup prior to the conquest of Babylon
and indicated that Astyages had no male heir [Histories, 1.109].
This would have made Cyrus king over both the Medes and the
Persians prior to the conquest of Babylon. However, Xenophon
described the Median king Cyaxares II [omitted by Herodotus],
who was the actual head of government at the time Cyrus led the
Medo–Persian armies on campaigns of conquest. Thus, Xenophon
has preserved a more reliable account concerning the succession of
Median rulers and their relationship to Cyrus and the fall of
Babylon, and the major witnesses supporting Herodotus consist of
cuneiform propaganda texts produced by the government of Cyrus!

So, if the account of Xenophon is given serious consideration,
Cyrus did not conquer the Medes and assume rule over their
kingdom prior to his conquest of Babylon. Instead, Astyages [the
Median king] had a male heir [Cyaxares II] who actually ruled over
the Medes and the Persians, while Cyrus did not gain full power
until Cyaxares II died sometime after Babylon’s fall. When
Babylon was conquered, the rule of this realm was given to
Cyaxares II, with “Darius” apparently being his throne name.
Thus, here are the arguments favouring Xenophon’s account:
a) Herodotus incorrectly says there was only one king of Babylon
at the time that it fell to Cyrus. He calls this king Labynetus
[apparently his version of Nabonidus]. But, Xenophon, without
giving the names, correctly states there were two Babylonian
kings [Cyropaedia 4.6.3, 5.2.27, 5.4.12], a father and a son, and
it was the son who was in the city when it was captured.
b) Both Herodotus and Xenophon relate how the forces of Cyrus
took the city by the stratagem of diverting the Euphrates River
that flowed through the city, and both agree that Babylon was
observing a festival on the night the city was taken. However,
Xenophon adds a detail that is not found in Herodotus: that the
king reigning there was slain the night the city was taken, a
statement that is corroborated by Daniel [v. 31].
c) Xenophon has an extensive history of Ugbaru/Gubaru
[Gobryas], governor of Gutium and leader of Cyrus’ forces in
the capture of Babylon. Ugbaru is also known from the
Nabonidus Chronicle, where he leads the army that captures
Babylon [in agreement with Cyropaedia]. But, Herodotus never
mentions this name, a curious deficiency given the importance
of Ugbaru in the capture of the city and prior events.
d) Xenophon states that Cyrus was the son of a Persian king
[Cyropaedia 1.2.1]. Herodotus states that although Cyrus’
mother Mandane was Astyages’ daughter, Astyages gave
Mandane in marriage to someone not of “suitable rank,” so that
any son born to Mandane could not claim a royal heritage
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[Histories 1.107]. But, the Cyrus Cylinder instead agrees with
Xenophon, not Herodotus, because Cyrus states that he is “son
of Cambyses, great king, king of Anshan, grandson of Cyrus,
great king, king of Anshan, descendant of Teispes, great king,
king of Anshan, of a family which always exercised kingship.”
e) The Harran Stele is a document from the court of Nabonidus
that gives events in his various regnal years. In the entry for his
14th/15th year [542–540 b.c.] Nabonidus speaks of his enemies
as the kings of Egypt, the Medes, and the Arabs. Xenophon
presents the king of Media as the senior partner and Cyrus the
king of Persia as the junior or lesser partner until after the
conquest of Babylon. During this time the Medes were stronger
than the Persians [Cyropaedia 1.5.2]. This fits with Nabonidus
mentioning the king of Media as his enemy, without
mentioning his subordinate, whom Xenophon supplies as
Cyrus, king of Persia. But, according to Herodotus, there was
no independent Median kingdom at this time, Cyrus having
conquered the Medes many years previously. Furthermore,
scholars argue that the Harran Stele provides an example of the
title “king of the Medes” being applied to Cyrus [without him
being named]. However, in all the other cuneiform inscriptions
from the time of Cyrus [the Verse Account of Nabonidus, the
Cyrus Cylinder, and the Nabonidus Chronicle], every reference
to him before the capture of Babylon designates him as either
“King of Anshan” or “King of Persia” [never “king of the
Medes”]. So, the natural understanding would be that the “king
of the Medes” mentioned in the Harran Stele was not Cyrus!
f) Archaeological evidence supports the Xenophon’s picture of
relations between the Medes and the Persians. For example,
according to Herodotus [using the later Persian propaganda of
the Nabonidus Chronicle], Cyrus rose up in rebellion against
his grandfather Astyages [king of Media], and conquered the
Medes, who were then subject to Cyrus from that point on.
However, Xenophon presents both kingdoms as partners, with
the Medes being the senior partners and equal with the Persians
right up to the death of Cyaxares II [son of Astyages].
 267

This was ~2 years after the conquest of Babylon, and after the So, here is “Darius the Mede” compared between Xenophon and Daniel:
death of Cyaxares the two kingdoms were merged peaceably
under Cyrus. Thus, archaeological evidence, such as the Cyaxares II [Xenophon] “Darius the Mede” [Daniel]
stairway reliefs at Persepolis, shows no distinction in official A contemporary of Cyrus the
rank or status between the Persian and Median nobility. Great A contemporary of Cyrus the Great
Although scholars argue that Cyrus subjugated the Medes, [his uncle]
instead the Medes were honoured equally with Persians, and King of the Medes King of the Medes
were employed in office and chosen to lead Persian armies. [Cyr. 4.5.8] [v. 31]
Had authority over the Persians as Had authority over the Persians after
Thus, by giving priority to Xenophon’s Cyropaedia, the individual late as shortly after the capture of the capture of Babylon in 539 b.c., as
known as “Darius the Mede” in Daniel’s book was Cyaxares II, the Babylon in 539 b.c. evidenced by his decree
son of Astyages and maternal uncle of Cyrus the Great. He was the [Cyr. 8.5.17] [later in Daniel 6:6–9]
heir and rightful king of the Medes, and would have been older Died ~2 years after the capture of Died not long after the capture of
than Cyrus, specifically at 62 years old [v. 31]. He received the Babylon, and succeeded by Cyrus Babylon, and succeeded by Cyrus
kingdom after Cyrus led the armies of the Medes and Persians in [Cyr. 8.6.22] [later in Daniel 10:1, 11:1]
conquest of Babylon [later in Daniel 9:1]. In other words, he turned One name given, but Josephus said Only one name given, although other
over the rule of it to Cyaxares II, and in doing so, honoured him. that Darius “was called by another kings during this time had a given
name among the Greeks.” name as well as a throne name
Jerome [4th century] confirms these details and concludes: [Ant. 10.248/10.11.4] [v. 31]
“Josephus writes in his 10th book of the Jewish Antiquities that Had a “reputation for being violent Had an unreasonable and
when Babylon had been laid under siege by the Medes and and unreasonable.” disproportionate anger
Persians, that is, by Darius and Cyrus, Belshazzar, king of [Cyr. 4.5.9] [later in Daniel 6:24]
Babylon, fell into such forgetfulness of his own situation as to put Vainglorious: He could change his Vainglorious: His counsellors
on his celebrated banquet and drink from the vessels of the temple, actions if offered something that recognized this, persuading him to
and even while he was besieged he found leisure for banqueting. brought him greater praise/wealth issue an edict that would make him
From this circumstance the historical account could arise, that he [Cyr. 4.5.51–53; 5.5.1–2, 38–40; the focus of everyone’s prayers
was captured and slaughtered on the same night, while everyone 8.5.17] [later in Daniel 6:6–9]
was either terrified by fear of the vision and its interpretation or
else taken up with festivity and drunken banqueting. As for the fact Rodger Young [21st century biblical chronologist] concludes and says:
that while Cyrus, king of the Persians, was the victor, and Darius “Stepping back and looking at the issue from a distance, it seems strange
was only king of the Medes, it was Darius who was recorded to that ancient sources give us two individuals, supposedly separate, who
have succeeded to the throne of Babylon; this was an arrangement nevertheless occupied the same place at the same time. More importantly,
occasioned by factors of age, family relationship and the territory these individuals, according to their respective sources, shared a unique
ruled over. By this I mean that Darius was 62 years old and that, characteristic: they were simultaneously, in 539 BC, the supreme authority
according to what we read, the kingdom of the Medes was more over Babylon, the Medes, and the Persians. This in itself indicates they
sizable than that of the Persians, and being Cyrus’ uncle, he were the same person. The alternative is that they were both fictitious. It
naturally had a prior claim and ought to have been accounted as could not be that just one was fictitious (whether Xenophon’s Cyaxares or
successor to the rule of Babylon.”

Daniel’s Darius), because if it is accepted that one was a real person, the
similarity of characteristics (place, time, authority) guarantees the
existence of the other, and that they were the same real person. If both
are assumed fictitious then it should be asked why Xenophon and Daniel
independently created imaginary figures that either of their accounts could
do without, and why these two independent authors also gave their
supposedly imaginary figures similar characteristics of nationality, royal
status, and temperament. Until those who hold to the non–existence of
Xenophon’s Cyaxares and the corresponding non–existence of Daniel’s
Darius find a better explanation, these circumstances are best understood
by accepting the reality of the one individual who is the basis of both
accounts, one written in Greek and the other in Aramaic and Hebrew.
Accepting that Cyaxares/Darius was a real person not only makes the best
sense of the existing data, but it also affords new understandings of
circumstances related in the Cyropaedia and Daniel’s book. For biblical
scholars, an example of such an insight is how the idiosyncrasies of
Xenophon’s Cyaxares—his apparent bipolar disorder and need for
adoration by his subjects—explain why the Darius of Daniel 6 could be
persuaded to issue a self–glorifying edict that could only have negative
consequences. Xenophon’s picture of Cyrus’ subordination to his uncle
also explains Darius’ authority to issue such a command. For classical
scholars, the obvious independence of Xenophon’s writings about
Cyaxares II and Daniel’s narrative of Darius the Mede, and yet the
striking similarities of the two (supposedly distinct) individuals, should
give a new appreciation that Cyrus was in reality the master of
propaganda that the Cyropaedia claims for him. In van der Spek’s words,
‘Cyrus was very successful in his propaganda and modern historiography
is still influenced by it.’ Cyrus’s propaganda is perpetuated to the present
day in scholarship that denies the existence of Cyrus’ uncle as portrayed
in the Cyropaedia or of Daniel’s king and friend as portrayed in Daniel’s
book, despite the obvious affinities between the two portraits and the
independence of the sources presenting them.”
In summary, until the mid–19th century, Jerome’s opinion prevailed: that
Darius the Mede was the maternal uncle of Cyrus the Great, the son of the
Median king Astyages. This would be Cyaxares II, as identified by
Xenophon. With the discovery of Akkadian inscriptions in the 19th
century, scholarly opinion began to shift in favour of Herodotus’ account
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[that Astyages had no male heir and Cyrus had conquered and subjected
the Medes prior to the defeat and fall of Babylon]. So, over the past ~50
years, some scholars conjectured that “Darius the Mede” was historical,
but no proposed theory was provable. Thus, critical scholars regarded
“Darius the Mede” as a fictional or historically inaccurate character.
However, recent scholarship has called into question Herodotus’ account
and even the reliability of existing inscriptions! In other words, the Sippar
Cylinder, the Cyrus Cylinder, the Verse Account of Nabonidus, and the
Nabonidus Chronicle have been challenged as propagandistic. Thus, the
claim that Cyrus overthrew Astyages and became king of Media–Persia
well before the fall of Babylon [as Herodotus maintained] is inaccurate.
Instead, Xenophon’s account is more reliable: Cyrus did not conquer and
rule the Medes prior to Babylon’s fall, but the two powers combined their
forces for mutual benefit, and the Medes were ruled by Astyages’ son
[Cyaxares II]. So, once Babylon was conquered, the rule of Babylon was
entrusted to Cyaxares II, or his throne name “Darius the Mede.” Such
throne names were common practice. For example, Darius III [336–330
b.c.], was originally Artašata and called Codomannus by the Greeks. Thus,
the 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 4th options have serious weaknesses, and are rejected.
In other words, Cyrus and his son Cambyses were not likely to be referred
to as “Medes” nor were they considered sons of Ahasuerus [later in Daniel
9:1]. As for Ugbaru/Gubaru, they either did not live long enough to have
had a rule at Babylon, or had no known identity as a Mede or a noble
standing by which they would have been readily received as king. Thus,
this last 5th option is highly probable: “Darius the Mede” was a throne
name for Cyaxares II, a Median king who continued to rule over Babylon
until he died roughly a couple of years after Babylon’s fall in 539 b.c.
Steven Anderson [21st century biblical scholar] summarizes and concludes:
“This was the view of the majority of Jewish and Christian scholars from
Josephus and Jerome until Keil in the 1870s, but it was abandoned after
the discovery of cuneiform texts that appeared to support Herodotus’
account of the accession of Cyrus, which does not allow for the existence
of the Cyaxares II described by Xenophon. Nevertheless, the description of
Cyaxares II in the Cyropaedia of Xenophon fits well with the description of
Darius the Mede in Daniel’s book. Given that the identifications of Darius
the Mede that are based on Herodotus’ version of the history have many
problems, the identification of Darius the Mede with Cyaxares II has

returned to the attention of bible scholars. I wrote my 2014 doctoral
dissertation on the subject of Darius the Mede, advocating for the
identification of Darius the Mede with Cyaxares II. Some scholars, such
as Kirk MacGregor and Paul Tanner, have subsequently followed my
arguments. My argument is that Xenophon describes Cyaxares II as the
last Median king and the uncle of Cyrus. According to Xenophon,
Cyaxares II was king of Media and Cyrus was king of Persia, and the two
were allied in a single confederated government. This power–sharing
arrangement offers a way to harmonize biblical texts (Isaiah 45:1–3) and
extra–biblical texts which describe Cyrus as the conqueror of kingdoms
with Daniel’s affirmation that there was a king higher than Cyrus when
Babylon fell. According to Xenophon, Cyaxares II lived for 2 years after
the fall of Babylon, which is enough time for the events of Daniel 6. Since
Cyaxares had no male heir and Cyrus had married his daughter, Cyrus
inherited Cyaxares’ position after his death and united the kingdoms of
Media and Persia in a single throne. Although Xenophon only uses the
name ‘Cyaxares,’ there is evidence from other sources that Cyaxares took
the throne name ‘Darius.’ There is also evidence that Cyaxares’ father,
called ‘Astyages’ by the Greek historians, took the throne name
‘Ahasuerus’ (Xerxes). Xenophon does not give a precise age for Cyaxares,
but his affirmation that Cyaxares was older than Cyrus fits with the
affirmation in Daniel 5:31 that Darius the Mede was 62 years old when
Babylon fell. In conclusion, the Cyaxares of Xenophon corresponds very
closely to the description of Darius the Mede in Daniel’s book. In my
dissertation, I undertook a detailed study of other extra–biblical sources
that provide information regarding the issue of Cyrus and Darius the
Mede, and I found strong evidence in support of the existence of Cyaxares
II as Darius the Mede. Objection #1: Babylonian contract texts are dated
to the reign of Cyrus from the fall of Babylon, without an intervening reign
of Darius the Mede. Response: The contract texts also do not mention
Belshazzar, whom Daniel identifies correctly as ‘king.’ This is because the
contract texts do not always mention all the coregents in a coregency. In
the case of the coregency between Cyrus and Darius the Mede, it was
natural to date Babylonian contract texts by the reign of the king who
entered Babylon as its conqueror (Cyrus). Nevertheless, it is possible that
there are contract texts dated by the reign of Darius the Mede, since those
texts would be identified by scholars with the reign of one of the three
Dariuses who reigned later. Objection #2: The Cyropaedia of Xenophon is
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not a reliable source for the history of Cyrus. Response: This evaluation of
the Cyropaedia is based on the presupposition that Cyaxares II is fictional.
If one accepts the historicity of Cyaxares II, then the Cyropaedia appears
much more reliable. Moreover, Xenophon has been proven more precise
than Herodotus with respect to his description of the royal upbringing of
Cyrus, the existence of Belshazzar, the existence of Gobryas, and the
marriage of Cyrus with Cyaxares’ daughter.”
J. Paul Tanner [21st century biblical scholar] likewise concludes:
“Aeschylus was a Greek author of numerous plays who wrote the tragedy
The Persians (472 BC). Significantly, his work predates that of both
Herodotus and Xenophon, and he wrote independent of either of them.
One of the lines in his play supports the idea that Cyrus did not conquer
the rebellious Medes as Herodotus indicated, but rather was preceded by
two Median kings. The line reads, ‘For the Mede was the first leader of
our host; and another, his son, completed this work, for his mind directed
his passion. And third from him was Cyrus, a fortunate man; when he
ruled, he established peace for all his own.’ The first Mede referred to
cannot be Cyaxares I, for he did not establish a Medo–Persian kingdom.
Hence, the two Median kings preceding Cyrus must be Astyages and his
son, Cyaxares II, thus supporting Xenophon’s account. Also of interest is
a statement made by Valerius Harpocration, a 2nd century AD
lexicographer in regard to the ‘daric’ coin. In his entry for ‘daric,’
Harpocration wrote, ‘But darics are not named as most suppose, after
Darius the father of Xerxes, but after a certain other more ancient king.’
This attests to a king named Darius who predates Darius Hystaspes.”
Thus, in light of this new data, critical scholars will now need to:
1. Be cautious about their reliance on Herodotus’ account of Cyrus.
2. Give greater consideration to Xenophon’s account.
3. Accept the historicity of Cyaxares II [the son of the Median king
Astyages] who can be equated with Daniel’s “Darius the Mede.”
So, the Harran Stele of Nabonidus, which dates from the period shortly
before the fall of Babylon in 539 b.c., witnesses to the existence of a king
of the Medes independent of the Persians and that the Medes [not Persia]
at this time were the primary threat to Babylonia.

In the inscription, Nabonidus is reported to have stated: “the king of Egypt,
the Medes and the land of the Arabs, all the hostile kings, were sending me
messages of reconciliation and friendship.” This works against the view
that Cyrus had conquered the Medes long before Babylon’s fall and had
become their king. Furthermore, we have a noteworthy reference by
Josephus that lends weight to the fact that not only did Astyages have a
son to succeed him as king, but that this son was indeed Darius. For the
source of his information, Josephus relied upon the work of Berossus,
whom he held in high esteem and frequently quoted, because Berossus
wrote a three–volume work called Babyloniaca between 290–278 b.c.
Although it is no longer extant and only fragments remain today, we have
a number of quotations and references to it in both Josephus and Eusebius.
In fact, one section of Babyloniaca that survived in an Armenian
translation of Eusebius, reads: “Cyrus at first treated Nabonidus kindly,
and, giving a residence to him in Carmania, sent him out of Babylonia.
But, Darius the king took away some of his province for himself.”
Thus, notice the mention of “Darius the king” at the time of Babylon’s
fall! Furthermore, Josephus says: “This is the end of the posterity of king
Nebuchadnezzar, as history informs us; but when Babylon was taken by
Darius, and when he, with his kinsman Cyrus, had put an end to the
dominion of the Babylonians, he was 62 years old. He was the son of
Astyages, and had another name among the Greeks.” [Ant. 10.11.4]
If Josephus was correct, then Cyrus the Great would have been related to
Darius, both being descendants of Astyages, king of Media. In fact,
Cyaxares II [Darius] would have been Cyrus’ uncle, since Cyrus’ mother
[Mandane] was the sister of Cyaxares II. So, according to Josephus,
Astyages was not the last Median king, and in contradiction to Herodotus,
he did have a son who ruled over Media after him. This assertion was
confirmed by Jerome: “Darius was 62 years old and that, according to
what we read, the kingdom of the Medes was more sizable than that of the
Persians, and being Cyrus’ uncle, he naturally had a prior claim and
ought to have been accounted as successor to the rule of Babylon.”
Since Astyages was not Cyrus’ uncle, but rather his grandfather, this
statement can only mean that Astyages had a son [Cyrus’ uncle], since his
father had married Astyages’ daughter [Mandane], which would
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harmonize with Xenophon’s account. In fact, according to Xenophon,
Cyrus eventually married the daughter of Cyaxares II [Cyr. 8.5.28],
thereby having a double relationship with the Medes. Thus, the son of
Astyages [Cyaxares II] was none other than Daniel’s “Darius the Mede.”
John Goldingay [21st century biblical scholar] concludes: “The precision of
‘62’ years relates to the omen. If the mina is the mina comprising 60
sheqels (not the more usual mina comprising 50 sheqels), then a mina, a
sheqel and two halves of a sheqel come to 62 sheqels. The years
attributed to Darius sum up another aspect of the omen’s meaning: he is
the person who brings its fulfilment upon Belshazzar.”
Wendy Widder [21st century biblical scholar] likewise concludes:
“Babylon’s fall would have come as no real surprise to God’s faithful in
Old Testament times. Prophets had long foretold the demise of the great
empire that God had used to judge his own people (Isaiah 13:9; 21:9;
Jeremiah 51:24–58; Habakkuk 2:2–20). But Daniel 5 is not the end of
‘Babylon’ in the bible. It returns with a vengeance in John’s Revelation,
where one of the driving themes is the destruction of ‘Babylon the great,’
the symbolic antithesis of God’s kingdom (Revelation 14:8; 16:19; 17:5;
18:2, 10, 21). Belshazzar and his blasphemous arrogance were but faint
shadows of the evil to come. But between the fall of the first great
kingdom of Babylon and the last, the indestructible eternal kingdom of
God spoken about in Daniel broke into the world (Daniel 2:44; 4:34;
6:26). Its beginnings were small and unimpressive, but it endures to this
day and its future is bright. The one who inaugurated this kingdom in 1st
century Israel will return to destroy all other rulers and powers, and he
will present the kingdom in its fullness to God (1 Corinthians 15:23–25).
The handwriting on Belshazzar’s wall and the subsequent fall of
Babylon to Darius the Mede declare God’s sovereignty. The Lord of
heaven rules all the earth. Kings rise and fall because he raises and fells
them. The life and ways of every king are in his hand. It was true for his
people in exile and it is true for us, wherever we may live and to whomever
we pay taxes. These kings will not last. These kingdoms will not endure.
The handwriting has been on the wall for thousands of years, and because
of the one who would later write in the dirt with his own human finger
(John 8:6), we can be confident that the message of Daniel 5 has not faded
(1 Corinthians 15:20–28).”
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Summing Up …
Starting with vv. 1–12, Daniel reinforces Jeremiah’s messages about
Nebuchadnezzar and his lineage [Jeremiah 25:1–12; 27:5–7]. In other
words, Jeremiah stressed that God was working through Nebuchadnezzar
in a particular way for a particular time. His mission is to carry out God’s
punishment on his disobedient people and their monarch [recall Daniel
1:1–2]. His successors must meet God’s standards if they wish to stay in
power. Likewise, Belshazzar’s successor must recognize God’s authority
or face the consequences.

Next in vv. 13–28, Daniel illustrates God’s opposition to arrogance that

leads to idolatry. Thus, the passage agrees with Isaiah that God will judge
kings and nations who exalt themselves as if God had not given them their
power [Isaiah 10:5–11; 14:12–14; 47:10]. An adherent of another religion
should know that he or she is not the world’s creator. In response to
Belshazzar’s pride, Daniel stressed that God is sovereign, holy, just, and
eternal. No idol or emperor has these characteristics, so none deserves
worship. God still reigns, as the exiled Daniel understood. His witness to
Nebuchadnezzar and Belshazzar makes God’s universal reign more
evident. It affirms that God’s kingdom does not depend on Jerusalem,
Babylon, or any place having a particular political leader on the throne.

Finally in vv. 29–31, Daniel demonstrates once again that empires rise and
fall at God’s command, not at the decrees of human rulers. Monarchs
come and go. Each seemingly receives the kingdom from other humans,
but in fact from God. Daniel’s faithfulness to God gives him a position of
great authority: by surviving while Babylon falls [recall Daniel 1:21].

DANIEL IN THE LION’S DEN
Daniel 6
Opening Thought
1) Who is the most respected Christian in your church? What admiring
qualities does this person possess? How did he/she acquire this reputation?
2) Suppose that a group of non–Christian neighbours or colleagues from
work were sitting around a restaurant table chatting, and your name is
suddenly tossed into the conversation. What kind of remarks or comments
do you think might be made about you, your character, and your lifestyle?
Background of the Passage
After being transported from Judah to Babylon as a young man, Daniel
spent his entire adult life serving as a high–ranking official for pagan
kings. This humble, prayerful, and faithful man was God’s spokesman to
world leaders from approximately 605 b.c. to 530 b.c. Beginning with
Babylonian kings Nebuchadnezzar and Belshazzar, Daniel served with
distinction. This loyalty continued into the Medo–Persian dynasty under
Darius the Mede [Cyaxares II]. Although Daniel’s career was not without
its difficult and dangerous times, he was a favourite of those whom he
served. Daniel possessed experience, wisdom, a sense of history,
leadership ability, a sterling reputation, remarkable people skills, a positive
attitude, and the benefit of revelation from God. Thus, it is not surprising
that Daniel’s excellence and godliness aroused the ire of the godless
around him. Daniel in the den of lions is a classic example of the evil
intent of humans and the sovereign purposes of God. In summary, Daniel
demonstrated the evangelistic potential of a godly uncompromising life.
God received great glory from the life and work of this quiet servant.
Bible Passage
Read Daniel 6
Daniel’s Service to Darius
1
It pleased Darius to appoint 120 regional authorities over the kingdom
throughout the realm, 2along with three chief administrators from them,
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one of which was Daniel. The regional authorities reported to these three
administrators, so that the king would experience no losses. 3Daniel
distinguished himself among all the administrators and regional
authorities, because he was of an extraordinary spirit. Therefore the king
planned to appoint him over the whole kingdom.
A Plot to Destroy Daniel
4
Because of this, the administrators and regional authorities tried to
bring allegations of dereliction of duty in government affairs against
Daniel, but they were unable to find any charges of corruption. Daniel was
trustworthy, and no evidence of negligence or corruption could be found
against him. 5So these men said, “We’ll never find any basis for complaint
against Daniel unless we build it on the requirements of his God.” 6Then
these administrators and regional authorities went as a group to the king
and said this, “Your majesty, live forever! 7All of the royal administrators,
prefects, regional authorities, scribes, and governors have concluded that
the king should establish and enforce an edict that anyone who prays to
any god or man for the next 30 days (except to you, your majesty) is to be
thrown into the lions’ pit. 8Therefore, your majesty, establish the decree
and sign the written document so it can’t be changed, in accordance with
the laws of the Medes and Persians that can’t be repealed.” 9So King
Darius signed the edict contained in the written document.
Daniel is Accused
10
When Daniel learned that the written document had been signed, he
went to an upstairs room in his house that had windows opened facing
Jerusalem. Three times a day he would kneel down, pray, and give thanks
to his God, just as he had previously done. 11The conspirators then went as
a group and found Daniel praying and seeking help before his God. 12So
they approached the king and asked, “Didn’t you sign an edict that for the
next 30 days if anyone prays to any god or man, except to you, your
majesty, he would be thrown into the lions’ pit?” The king responded,
“The decree has been established, in accordance with the laws of the
Medes and Persians that can’t be repealed.” 13Then they told the king,
“Daniel, who is one of the Judean exiles, pays no attention to you, your
majesty, or to the written decree, since he is still praying three times a
day.” 14When the king heard this, he was greatly upset, because he was
determined to make every effort to save Daniel before the sun set.

15
But the men who had gone as a group to the king told him,
“Remember, your majesty, that according to the laws of the Medes and
Persians, any decree or edict that the king establishes cannot be repealed.”
Daniel in the Lions’ Pit
16
At this point, the king ordered Daniel brought in and thrown into the
lions’ pit. The king spoke to Daniel, “Your God, whom you serve
constantly, will deliver you himself.” 17A stone was brought and placed
over the opening to the pit, and the king affixed a seal to it with his
personal signet ring and with the signet rings of his officials so that no one
would interfere with Daniel’s situation. 18Then the king retired to his
palace to spend the night fasting. He enjoyed no entertainment, and he
couldn’t sleep. 19The king got up at dawn and went quickly to the lions’
pit. 20As he approached where Daniel was in the pit, he cried out to him in
a voice filled with anguish, “Daniel, servant of the living God, has your
God, whom you serve constantly, been able to deliver you from the lions?”
21
Daniel replied to the king, “May your majesty live forever! 22My God
sent his angel and sealed the mouths of the lions. They have not harmed
me, proving that I’m innocent before him. Also against you, your majesty,
I’ve committed no offense.” 23The king was ecstatic, so he gave orders for
Daniel to be released from the pit. Daniel was taken up from the pit, and
no injury was found to have been inflicted on him, because he had
believed in his God. 24Then the king gave orders to bring those men who
had tried to have Daniel devoured, and they threw them, their children, and
their wives into the lions’ pit. They had not reached the floor of the pit
before the lions had overtaken them and crushed all their bones.
Darius Exonerates Daniel
25
Afterward, King Darius wrote to all people, nations, and languages
who lived throughout his realm: “May great prosperity be yours! 26I
hereby decree that in every area of my kingdom men are to fear and
tremble before the God of Daniel. For he is the living God, who endures
forever. His kingdom is one that will not be destroyed, and his dominion
continues forever. 27He delivers and rescues and performs signs and
wonders in heaven and on earth. He has delivered Daniel from the power
of the lions.” 28Daniel achieved success during the reigns of Darius and
Cyrus the Persian.
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Understanding the Text
3) What was the conspiracy against Daniel? (6:1–9)
Starting with vv. 1–3, we read: “It pleased Darius to appoint 120
regional authorities over the kingdom throughout the realm, along with
three chief administrators from them, one of which was Daniel. The
regional authorities reported to these three administrators, so that the king
would experience no losses. Daniel distinguished himself among all the
administrators and regional authorities, because he was of an
extraordinary spirit. The king planned to appoint him over the kingdom.”
Although no date is given at the beginning of this chapter, it is most likely
that this took place during the 1st year of Darius the Mede, specifically
when he was establishing the administration for the newly created
province of Babylonia. Since Cyrus the Great had led the combined armies
of the Medes and Persians in victory against Babylon, Daniel would have
witnessed Cyrus’ entrance to Babylon on the 29th of October in 539 b.c.,
and Daniel would have had opportunity to meet Cyrus! Furthermore,
although the governance of Babylonia was entrusted to Darius, Cyrus took
over the rule of Babylon after the death of Darius [later in v. 28].
Nevertheless, Daniel will demonstrate a step forward in establishing the
primacy and certitude of God’s enduring kingdom. The point is that God is
free to break into the sacred space of the Medes and Persians to
demonstrate his power and proclaim his kingdom intentions, even though
his holy mountain [Jerusalem] continues to exist in ruins.
Joseph J. de Bruyn [21st century ancient Near Eastern scholar] explains:
“Daniel 6 is a construction of written words built–up from the spatial
experience of human cognition. The language used by Daniel to construct
his narrative mirrors certain fundamental properties and design features
of the human mind. In communicating with his readers, Daniel
deliberately employs certain concepts not only to construct his narrative,
but also to create a specific reality. This is based on a broader new
development within the methodology of studying language and the way in
which humans communicate. This new science is known as ‘cognitive
linguistics’ which involves the study of the complex relationship between
language and the mind. In this new science it is postulated that texts, as

mediums of communications, are embedded in an author’s cognitive
paradigm. This means that Daniel utilises specific concepts, embedded in
his own cognitive world view, to convey his narrative to his readers. I use
a so–called ‘spatial–body frameset’ to analyse Daniel 6. I focus on how
Daniel specifically uses spatial concepts (markers) to construct the reality
of the omnipresence of God. In constructing this ‘presence–of–God’
reality, Daniel conveys a message of hope and trust in the authority of God
to his readers. The analysis of Daniel 6 corresponds to similar research
on Psalms 2, 110 and Daniel 1, 3, and 5. Thus, I differ from previous
research in three ways. Firstly, I use a spatial–body frameset based on
cognitive linguistics to analyse Daniel 6, and such an approach has not
been used by biblical scholars before. Secondly, most scholars identify the
main characters of the narrative as either Daniel or Darius or his
officials. However, I will show that the story known as ‘Daniel in the
lion’s den,’ rather should be known as: ‘God and the lions.’ Contrary to
popular belief, Daniel 6 is not just a story about Daniel, but also a
narrative about God. Thirdly, although Daniel 6 can be treated as an
individual story, this article uniquely treats it as part of a larger narrative
that stretches from Daniel 1–6. This larger narrative can be described as
either a ‘clash of deities or a deity war.’ I postulate that Daniel 6 is a
story about God clashing with Darius and the gods of the Meden and the
Persian Empire. Not only does Daniel demonstrate to his readers that God
can operate outside the land of Israel, but he also shows that God is the
supreme ruler of all kingdoms and other god spaces. It is true that other
methods could be used to indicate God’s capability to act outside Israel,
but up until recent research Daniel 1–6 is interpreted as stories about
Daniel and his friends maintaining their faith, with God acting on their
behalf. However, I treat Daniel 1–6 as narratives about God. In addition, I
treat these subordinate stories as events that can be linked together into a
larger and more primary narrative about God as the main character. In
the different events in Daniel 1–6, the utilization of Daniel and his friends,
the lion’s den, the different temples, cities and locations is to demonstrate
the ‘spatial markers’ and to construct the reality of God’s supremacy and
omnipresence. Thus, I postulate that Daniel deliberately placed the
events of these different stories in a specific order to create a larger
narrative. This different nuance in approaching the text is only possible
because of cognitive linguistics. So, in the field of cognitive linguistics four
basic ideas can be identified as useful for the exegetical process of
274
studying texts such as Daniel 6. These ideas can be summarised as
follows: (1) the human mind produces words as reflections of concepts,
and as concepts, words embody human culture and world views; (2) as
humans interact with the world around them they use their bodies as a
metaphorical framework to make sense of their experience of the world;
(3) in making sense of their world, humans create ‘spaces’ to order their
environment. These spaces may be physical spaces such as a room or
more abstract such as different situations and realities, however both
physical and abstract spaces are experienced as real by human cognition;
(4) language is not merely a reflection or representation of realities,
instead reality is also constructed by language, and language can create
realities which are in turn experienced as spaces by the human
cognition. Linguists are of the opinion that all human behaviour is located
in space and constructed from it. Through these experienced structural
‘spaces’ specific phenomena can be categorised or described, for example
‘below’ the ground, on ‘top’ of a building, ‘inside’ a cave, ‘outside’ a
house, ‘under’ a table, and so on. Some environments, such as those of the
church or temple, are even experienced and treated as holy or sacred
spaces. By cognitively constructing such spaces we sometimes
instinctively use our bodies to describe these spaces in an abstract sense.
Three examples follow: the eye of a needle is the space where a thread is
put through; the space where a cave is entered is called the mouth of the
cave; a universal serial bus (USB) extension is often described as a male–
female cable. This means that we as humans give meaning to the spaces
we live in through our bodies. The creative properties of language can be
explained by two examples: (1) laws, because these are nothing less than
word–constructed framesets creating realities within which humans
function daily; (2) liturgical phrases, because uttering words in specific
circumstances creates new realities. Based on these aspects of cognitive
linguistics, I postulate that Daniel utilises spatial body concepts to
construct the reality of the omnipresence of God. So, ‘embodied space’ is
the location in which human experience and consciousness materialise.
These embodied spaces can take the form of many different entities. Thus,
there are different ways in which spaces can be created by employing
language and where these spaces can be identified in texts. Spatial
markers are indications of embodied spaces within a text. These spatial
markers can be summarised as follow: ‘the human body’ as a vessel of the
‘self’; ‘body–space,’ which centres around the human body; ‘gendered
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spaces’; ‘inscribed spaces’; ‘contested spaces’; ‘trans–national space’;

‘trajector’; ‘landmark’; ‘frame of reference’; ‘region’; ‘path’; ‘direction’
and ‘motion’. Against the world view of the ancient Near East, aspects of
these spatial markers will be combined with sacred space. These sacred
spaces are the materialisation of the religious paradigm of the human
mind. The creation of sacred spaces is the result of people’s interaction
with their environment on a religious level. Sacred spaces may therefore
appear to overlap with other embodied spaces. Buildings are an example
of this. It is only through religious paradigms that a building such as a
temple or church is experienced as sacred and therefore treated differently
to an office building. In the Old Testament the temple was treated
differently for it was the house of Yahweh (Psalm 5:7–8; 79:1; Habakkuk
2:20). Mount Zion was not just experienced as a landmark, but as the holy
mountain of God (Psalm 48). In the ancient Near Eastern world view,
cities and mountains could sometimes be viewed as more than just
geographical landmarks. Sometimes they were viewed as the sacred
spaces of the gods. The same applied regarding temples, altars, and those
statues that served as images of the gods. Even people such as priests or
kings were viewed as special for they were experienced as extensions or
vessels of the gods’ authority and power. These sacred spaces were the Since specific regions, cities, or territories were under the protection of
cognitive manifestation of peoples’ religious experiences of the interaction specific gods, in wartime people called upon their gods for protection. It
between heaven and earth. Sacred spaces were experienced as part of the was believed that the people with the strongest gods would win the war.
personal space of specific deities. The cosmos itself was also experienced When a war was lost, it was believed that the gods were not strong enough
in terms of different spaces, and broadly speaking was divided into the to protect their people. It was believed that the territories of the people
unseen world of the gods and other supernatural forces and the physical and their gods, who lost the war, became subjected to the gods of the
world. The unseen world was again divided into the heavens above and the nation who won the war. The religion of both the kingdoms of Judah and
underworld below. The heavens were experienced as the dwelling places northern Israel reflect this ancient world view. As a nation, Israel was
of the gods whilst the underworld was associated with the dead. In terms viewed as the sacred property of Yahweh (Exodus 19:5–6; Deuteronomy
of space and the ancient Near Eastern world view, the heavens above 14:2). In Israel the presence of Yahweh manifests in different ways. Mount
could be described as god space. The earth below was experienced as the Zion was experienced as the throne of God whilst Jerusalem was viewed
living space of humans, and could therefore be described as human or as his holy city (Psalm 48). The temple in Jerusalem was revered as the
earth space. Sacred spaces formed a type of connection point between the house of Yahweh and the centre of creation (Psalm 29). The Davidic king
unseen world and the physical world. They were also experienced as himself was regarded as an earthly extension of Yahweh’s heavenly god
extensions of the deities’ god–spaces on earth. Sacred spaces also space (Psalm 2; 45; 110). The Arameans assumed that the God of Israel’s
indicated that specific locations, regions, or territories were under the authority was confined to the mountains and not the plains (1 Kings 20:23)
protection and authority of specific deities, and were viewed as the patrons and later the Assyrian king told Hezekiah not to trust in Yahweh for he
of specific cities whilst temples were not only the earthly homes of the could not protect his city of Samaria (Isaiah 36). After the Babylonian
gods, they were also experienced as the public face of a deity’s presence.

exile many Jews in the Diaspora believed, or at least feared, the possibility
that God did not have the power to operate in lands outside of Israel
(Psalm 137; Isaiah 40). It is possible that Daniel wrote these stories to
answer the doubt people could have had about the power, capability, and
authority of God. This possibility is investigated from the vantage point of
cognitive linguistics. For this investigation a spatial–hermeneutical
frameset is used on Daniel 6. In other words, as with the stories in Daniel
1–5, Daniel creates the reality of the omnipresence of God by utilising
spatial markers such as sacred space and contested space. Thus, Daniel
1–6 does neither simply relate stories about young men facing persecution
because of their faithfulness to God, nor are these chapters merely stories
about the protection of the faithful. Protection is indeed a major theme in
these stories, but instead of interpreting protection simply as an act of God
on behalf of the faithful (as most scholars do), I postulate that Daniel uses
the theme of protection to indicate the capability of God to act outside
the land of Israel. Furthermore, in terms of a body–spatial framework, it
could be argued that in each of these stories in Daniel 1–6 protection is
the consequence of God being victorious after he was challenged by
foreign powers outside the land of Israel; or protection is the means by
which the author demonstrates the victory of God when challenged by
foreign powers. In this way the stories in Daniel 1–6 may be seen as
stories about God as the main character. In addition the different stories
in Daniel 1–6 can be linked together as events in a larger, more dominant
narrative that can be described as a clash of deities or a deity war. Daniel
6 forms the conclusion to this larger narrative in which the author utilises
different forms of sacred space and contesting space to create the
omnipresence of God. The larger narrative can be described as follows:
(1) In Daniel 1 the sacred space of God is invaded by the Babylonian king
and his god who is probably the Babylonian high god Marduk. However,
what starts as an invasion of God’s sacred space is turned around into
an invasion of Marduk’s own sacred space. The clash between God and
Marduk leads to the downfall of Marduk and the Babylonian Empire. (2)
In Daniel 2 it is indicated that God is not bound by the specific sacred
spaces. God is the ruler of all empires. (3) In Daniel 3 it is shown that
God cannot only act within Marduk’s sacred space, but defeats him by
protecting the faithful from the fire. (4) In Daniel 4 Marduk cannot stop
God from humiliating his king. In the previous events Daniel shows that
Marduk’s king and his sacred space belongs to God. Now the denouement
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in the larger narrative is found in Daniel 5. God ultimately defeats
Marduk and shows his superiority by giving the Babylonian Empire to
the Medes, the Persians, and their gods. (5) The narrative culminates with
Daniel showing his readers (by the events in Daniel 6) that not only does
the Babylonian Empire belong to the sacred space of Israel’s God, but to
the Median and Persian Empire as well. We should take into account the
world view of the ancient Near Eastern people. People believed that after
the conquest of Jerusalem, God’s sacred space was invaded and his temple
was defiled. He was supposed to be a defeated deity with no power and
authority. In the minds of the people his territory now belonged to Marduk.
Thus, the Israelite God was not supposed to be able to act inside Marduk’s
sacred space, much less to defeat him. However, again it must be said, by
carefully employing the events in Daniel 1–6 and linking them together,
Daniel creates the omnipresence of God by showing his capability to act
inside the sacred spaces of other deities. In each chapter Daniel shows
how the presence of God manifests through different spatial markers in
order to create his omnipresence. To emphasise the omnipresence of
Israel’s God further there may be a hint to a planned type of circle motive
in the larger narrative. The larger narrative starts with the mentioning of
the city of Israel’s God, Jerusalem. The Judean captives and temple
treasures are taken away from Jerusalem to Babylon. In Daniel 6
Jerusalem is mentioned again. Daniel opens his window towards
Jerusalem and prays towards the city. This may be interpreted as a
movement back to Jerusalem. The Medes and the Persians allowed the
Jewish exiles to return to Jerusalem. In this way Daniel establishes God’s
presence through time and space: from Jerusalem through the
Babylonian Empire, through the Medes and Persian Empire and back to
Jerusalem again. The events of Daniel 5 flow naturally into a new Medes
and Persian environment. The events in Daniel 5–6 were linked to Cyrus,
who conquered the Babylonian Empire in 539 BCE. After the Medes and
Persians conquered the Babylonian Empire, the sacred space of
Marduk, now belongs to the gods of the Medes and Persians in the
minds of the people. Within the new Medes and Persian environments the
power and authority of God again could be questioned. Was it really God
who gave the Babylonian Empire to the new rulers, or could it be that
the Medes and Persian gods were stronger than God? Just as in Daniel
1–5, Daniel now utilises spatial markers to show that God is not just
present in the sacred space of the Medes and Persian gods, but also that

he can act within their sacred space without being stopped. There is no
mention whatsoever of Medes and Persian gods in the narrative, except for
a type of deification of king Darius himself. Thus, the term sacred space is
still applicable. The Medes and Persian sacred space is set up by the
following markers: the kingdom of Darius, king Darius, the law of Medes
and Persia, and the lion’s den. Just as in Daniel 1 and in contrast to
Daniel 3, the events in Daniel 6 indicate that God also has spatial
markers in the narrative. So, in vv. 1–4, Daniel is given a high place of
authority in the government of king Darius. Due to Daniel’s hard–working
nature, king Darius wants to elevate him even higher in the Medes and
Persian government. However, not all government officials are impressed
by Daniel’s faultless hard work. A plot against him is set into motion (vv.
5–10). As with the events in Daniel 1 and 3, the complot focuses on
Daniel’s religion. A group of officials go to king Darius with a proposal
that for 30 days no one in the kingdom should make a request or prayer to
any man or god, except to king Darius himself. Darius makes the proposal
into a law in Media and Persia. With this law a new reality and sacred
space is created within which the king himself is set up as a deified image
and all other gods are subordinated to the king’s authority. In this newly–
found Meden and Persian sacred space it becomes a capital crime to
honour other deities. Against the world view of the ancient Near Eastern
people it would have been expected that foreign deities would not have the
authority and power within the sacred space of the Medes and Persian
Empire. Furthermore, in this newly created reality, honouring other
deities or making requests to them would mean that the authority of the
Medes and Persian Empire and their gods (which in this narrative are
embodied in the image of king Darius) would not be recognised. This new
sacred space or reality, not only challenged the faithful like Daniel, but
also challenged the authority of God himself in two ways. Firstly, God’s
worshippers are forbidden to recognise his authority and to honour him.
Thus, God is deprived of his honour and authority. Secondly, God’s vessel
in the form of Daniel (the faithful) is confronted with a situation where it
can be defiled and killed. Even though it was God who gave the
Babylonian Empire to the Medes and Persians, his authority within the
new sacred space is not accepted. Thus, two realities are placed in
contrast to each other: the reality of God’s authority and presence within
foreign god spaces, and the reality of the supreme authority of Darius.
However, as with the event in Daniel 1, Daniel again was a platform from
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and through which God acts within the Medes and Persian sacred space.
Thus, when Daniel hears about the new decree (v. 11) he decides to
perform his normal routine to worship God. Thus, by doing this, Daniel
and his God challenges the reality of a deified king Darius. The challenge
to Darius does not come from outside the Medes and Persian sacred
space, but from within. To make things more interesting the challenge
came from a deity that was supposed to be a subordinate and degraded
deity. With this challenge, tension builds up in the narrative. Would God
be capable of following through with his challenge to the authority of the
Medes and Persian sacred space? When Daniel hears about the new
decree, he goes to his room and opens his window towards Jerusalem (v.
11). Jerusalem was experienced as the city of God. Praying towards
Jerusalem could mean that Daniel cognitively extended himself to God.
In 1 Kings 8:35 Solomon requested God to listen to the prayers of the
people when praying towards Jerusalem. So, in the narrative in Daniel 6,
it could be an allusion to believe that God was confined to Jerusalem and
that he could not be worshipped outside his sacred space (Psalm 137).
However, it could also be that within the larger narrative in Daniel 1–6,
the mention made of Jerusalem in Daniel 1 and Daniel 6 form a kind of
circle motif emphasising the reality of the omnipresence of God. After
Jerusalem was invaded, there was a movement away from Jerusalem and
now at the end of the larger narrative in Daniel 1–6 there is a movement
back to Jerusalem. In Daniel 5 the sacred space outside the king’s banquet
hall and the banquet hall itself is bridged by God’s handwriting on the
wall. Within a spatial body framework it could be argued that by letting
Daniel look towards Jerusalem, Daniel is connecting the original sacred
space of God and the Medes and Persian sacred space. By connecting
Daniel to the city of God, Daniel makes it possible for God to manifest
himself through Daniel as he did in Daniel 1. Thus, having Daniel look
towards Jerusalem is a way for Daniel to make the presence of God
concrete within the sacred space of the Medes and Persian Empire. This is
a direct challenge to the authority of king Darius. Thus, on a cognitive
level, it is not so much a case of Daniel extending himself to Jerusalem in
a belief that God is only present there; it is in reality Daniel who becomes
an extension of the presence of the God of Jerusalem inside the sacred
space of the Medes and Persian Empire. In the larger narrative in Daniel
1–6, it was indicated that God could act outside his original sacred space.
By having Daniel look towards Jerusalem in the conclusion of the larger

narrative, Daniel indicates that God is not confined to one sacred space at
a time. God does not move from sacred space to sacred space. He was in
Jerusalem in Daniel 1 and at the same time he showed that he was
present in Babylon. However, he is also present in the Medes and
Persian Empire, but simultaneously he is still present in Jerusalem. He
was and still is present in Jerusalem and at the same time he is present
wherever there are believers. In this way Daniel establishes the reality of
God being present through space and time. God is omnipresent. For
Daniel it means that if God could act outside Jerusalem, he could also act
within the sacred space of the Medes and Persian Empire. Daniel
concludes his larger narrative in Daniel 1–6 with the events around the
lion’s den. As one would expect, the threat to the Medes and Persian
sacred space is immediately dealt with (vv. 12–14). When Darius’ officials
heard about Daniel’s subversive behaviour, they instantly informed the
king. In vv. 15–16, Daniel shows how feeble Darius’ attempt to be a god
really is. Darius himself becomes entrapped in the laws of his empire.
According to the narrative, Darius could not change his own laws. Even
though Darius may be the embodiment of a god, he does not have the
power to rescue or to protect Daniel within his own sacred space. With
this Daniel comments on the limitations of other so–called deities. In
contrast to the limitations of other deities, Daniel goes on to re–emphasise
that God has no limitations. The tension in the smaller narrative in Daniel
6 now reaches its height. Darius proclaims that Daniel should be put to
death by throwing him into a lion’s den (v. 17). On a cognitive level the
lion’s den could be described as ‘punishment’ space or ‘execution’ space.
It is a place where people are sent as punishment for offences against the
Medes and Persian sacred space. Then v. 18 describes how the lion’s den
is inscribed as part of the authority space of Darius. A stone was placed at
the opening of the den and sealed with the signet ring of the king. Even
though the lion’s den is part of Darius’ domain, not even he can save
Daniel. Darius even says that perhaps Daniel’s God could save him.
With these words Darius admits that there are limitations to his power,
and that possibly there may be a god strong enough to rescue Daniel.
Now God is challenged to show his strength and authority in rescuing his
spatial vessel. In this way the lion’s den also becomes what can be
described as ‘contested’ space. Thus, the events in and around the lion’s
den are a contest between the reality of God’s omnipresence and authority
and the authority of the Medes and Persian Empire. Overnight, the contest
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between God and the Medes and Persian authority is concluded in a
victory for God (vv. 19–25). Daniel is rescued from death. God had the
mouths of the lions shut by his angelic agent, and other deities could not
prevent him from doing so. Hereby Daniel shows that God not only has the
power to act within a foreign sacred space, but that he indeed is stronger
than the Medes and Persian authorities. Just as with the fiery furnace in
Daniel 3, the lion’s den becomes a spatial marker for the authority of God
proclaiming his presence and his supremacy over all sacred spaces. Again
it is not so much the fact that Daniel is rescued that is important, but
rather the fact that God has the ability to protect. Thus, protection is once
more the means to victory. In addition it shows God’s capability to act and
to be present in a foreign environment. God is not only in Jerusalem but
also in the lion’s den in a foreign sacred space. With these events Daniel
also shows that it were not the Medes and Persian gods who conquered
Babylon, but that it indeed was Israel’s God who gave it to them (Daniel
5). Now the conspirators of the plot to get rid of Daniel are put to death (v.
25). They themselves are thrown to the lions and none of their gods are
able to protect them. Thus, the supremacy of God above other gods is
emphasised. God’s capability to act in foreign sacred spaces also leads to
Darius’ proclamation that no man may speak disrespectfully of Israel’s
God, because God’s victory over the lions leads to a foreign power
publicly recognising his authority. Thus, the reality of God’s
omnipresence is proven to be real, whilst the reality of the power and
authority of other gods is proven to be an illusion. Additionally, for all
Diaspora faithful it means that they should not be afraid of foreign
environments for God is with them everywhere. In other words, God also
uses the believer to make his presence known in the profane world. This
body–space analysis of Daniel 6 is in accordance with the apocalyptic
nature of Daniel’s book. Within an apocalyptic world view a distinction is
made between the spiritual and natural worlds. These two worlds are in
constant battle with each other. The hardships that God’s people may
experience is not because he is incapable of protecting them, but because
of the cosmic battle between the forces of God and the forces of evil
which extend to every aspect of human life. Within the apocalyptic genre
Daniel deliberately uses colours, numbers, past events, heavenly beings,
and other concepts to convey a message of hope. Within the larger
narrative in Daniel 1–6, Daniel deliberately uses specific concepts and
events to narrate a story about the omnipresence of God in which the

believers can trust and hope. Contra to what people may experience or
believe, in reality God is everywhere and manifests his presence as he
wishes without being confined to sacred spaces as other deities are.
Applying a body–space frameset to the texts of Daniel 6 helps to read the
text as a construction of concepts by which the presence of God is created
outside Jerusalem and Israel within non–Israelite environments.
Furthermore, a spatial frameset shows that the story of Daniel 6 can be
read as a conclusion to a lager narrative that stretches across Daniel 1–6.
In this narrative Daniel utilises spatial concepts to establish the
omnipresence of God. In constructing this presence–of–God reality,
Daniel conveys a message of hope and trust in the authority of God. In this
regard Daniel 6 is not just a story about the character Daniel who is
persecuted for his faith, rather it is a story about God who establishes his
presence and his ability to act through and within space and time.”
Furthermore, Darius the Mede was a throne name for Cyaxares II
[consistent with Xenophon’s account], and the rule of Babylonia was
turned over to him following Cyrus’ conquest of Babylon in October of
539 b.c. However, critical scholars object to the idea of the kingdom being
divided up into “120 regional authorities.” According to Herodotus, the
Persian Empire was divided into 20 satrapies [Hist. 3.89]. But, notice that
v. 1 does not state that Darius divided the kingdom into 120 satrapies.
Instead, he only appointed them. In fact, the Aramaic ʾăḥašdarpᵊnayyāʾ
[for “regional authorities”] is a technical term for an official placed in
charge of a region of the empire [or “protector of the kingdom”]. These
satraps were answerable to a supervisor, who in turn answered to Darius.
Thus, satraps could be applied to lower officials, and some of them
governed geographical territories, while others had administrative duties.
So, even if there were 120 satrapies, this should not be considered
unreasonable. The Babylonian Empire prior to Cyrus’ conquest had been
quite extensive, and undoubtedly there would have been larger and smaller
satrapies. For example, Esther indicates that Ahasuerus [Xerxes I] reigned
over 127 provinces [Esther 1:1]. So, for Darius the Mede to “to appoint
120 regional authorities over the kingdom throughout the realm” suggests
that he wielded great power, which further supports the argument that
Darius was not subservient to Cyrus at this time [if Darius the Mede was
Cyaxares II]. In fact, the Nabonidus Chronicle says that after the conquest
of Babylon: “Gobryas, his governor, installed sub–governors in Babylon.”
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So, two questions arise from this reading of the Nabonidus Chronicle:
1. Is this information truly reliable, or has it been embellished to
glorify Cyrus and the Persians? Obviously it was propagandistic!
2. What else is said about Gobryas in this same account? A few lines
earlier, Gobryas is said to have been “the governor of Gutium”
[Median territory] who entered Babylon with Cyrus. Also, this
same Gobryas died “on the night of the 11th day” [or a week later].
Thus, he is obviously not Darius the Mede, but what relationship
did he have to Darius and to Cyrus? In Xenophon’s Cyropaedia,
Gobryas was a Median general distinct from Cyaxares, the latter
being the uncle of Cyrus, and Cyrus was subservient to Cyaxares!
So, Gobryas [a Mede], having served as governor of Gutium, died a week
after the fall of Babylon. Thus, he cannot be Darius the Mede!
Furthermore, above the “120 regional authorities” were “three chief
administrators” and “one of which was Daniel” [he would have been old].
The Aramaic sārᵊḵîn [for “chief administrators”] is a loanword from
Persian sāraka [or “to stand at the ready”], which means “high official”
and the LXXθ translated it as taktikous [or “fit for arranging in war”].
Thus, the satraps were organized so that each of them was accountable to
one of these “three chief administrators,” so that the king’s interests might
not incur damage. Undoubtedly this would have included the protection of
the financial interests of the king, making sure that taxes and tribute were
properly channelled to the king. But, it applied to other matters, such as
ensuring the protection of territory due to uprisings. So, why was Daniel
chosen for such an exalted position when he was in his 80s? Thus,
bringing him out of retirement at this time would have been wise, because:
1. Daniel had a long experience with the Babylonian government.
2. Daniel had a reputation for honesty and integrity in service.
3. Daniel was known to be an interpreter of dreams and visions.
4. Daniel’s successful prediction at Belshazzar’s feast became known
to Cyrus the Great and Darius the Mede [Cyaxares II].
So, although Daniel was of old age, the participial form of the Aramaic
verb nᵊṣaḥ [or “distinguish oneself”] has a continual/iterative nuance here.

In other words, Daniel “distinguished himself” continually “because he
was of an extraordinary spirit.” This phrase was used by the queen [recall
Daniel 5]. Thus, it did not take Darius very long to observe that Daniel was
unique, and he “planned to appoint him over the whole kingdom.”
Michael Wilson [21st century biblical scholar] summarizes and concludes:
“It is significant that under Persian rule there is no longer any mention of
astrologers, magicians, diviners, etc., as if to underscore an emphasis of
the prior narrative that they were of no use whatsoever. Now there are
only political offices mentioned. Daniel is one of three administrators
chosen by Darius to ensure that Darius’ interests are protected. Ensuring
the king ‘suffers no loss’ presumably implies putting the lid on potential
uprisings and ensuring taxes are fully collected. Daniel had not only
distinguished himself as an interpreter of dreams, but had ruled ‘over the
entire province of Babylon’ during Nebuchadnezzar’s reign.
Nebuchadnezzar died in 562 BC. In the years that followed Daniel ceased
to have the same political prominence so that ~23 years later Belshazzar
knows Daniel as but ‘one of the exiles’ brought by Nebuchadnezzar from
Judah. Following the interpretation of the writing on the wall Belshazzar
fulfilled his promise by proclaiming Daniel to be the ‘third highest ruler in
the kingdom,’ that is, occupying the position of supreme control next to
Nabonidus and Belshazzar. Daniel had no interest in using the situation
provided by God’s intervention to advance his political career. There is
perhaps implicit in Daniel’s refusal an implication that such largesse is
worthless. Certainly any claim of Belshazzar to be able to give political
power to another proves to be but a balloon which bursts even before the
party begins. For Belshazzar was slain on the same night that he gave
Daniel such power. Although Daniel only enjoyed such authority for a few
hours, nevertheless he is given a position of considerable importance. We
now return to a familiar theme—the distinctiveness of Daniel. In chapter
1 Daniel (and his three Jewish friends) maintained their distinctiveness
from their Chaldean peers by refusing to be obsequious, servile lackeys to
the king. They did this not through open defiance, but by adopting a
different diet. They were distinguished from their Chaldean peers by the
superior health God gave them, and also by their distinctively superior
grasp of Babylonian wisdom, as recognized by Nebuchadnezzar himself.
Central to the thought of Daniel 2 is that the distinctiveness of the wisdom
of Daniel and his friends is not simply a difference of degree, but of kind.
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Their wisdom is poles apart from the magic–oriented and elitist wisdom of
their Chaldean peers—a wisdom that has strict limits and does not enable
man to know the mind of ‘the gods.’ By contrast the wisdom of Daniel
and his friends is one that is rooted in the fact that God is personally
involved in their lives. In a relatively undramatic way he had already
shown this by nourishing their bodies and enhancing their natural
intelligence. But now God demonstrates that while ‘the gods’ do not live
among the Chaldeans, he himself does live among his people, as
represented by Daniel and his friends. Of course, it is only the implied
reader who understands this. Ironically even the proof that Daniel’s
wisdom is radically different in nature is assimilated to Babylonian
conceptions of deity so that Nebuchadnezzar takes it for granted that
Daniel’s wisdom is due to the fact that ‘the spirit of the holy gods’ is in
him. God then takes him through a set of experiences which result in
Nebuchadnezzar acknowledging the distinctiveness of ‘the Most High
God’ with whom Daniel is associated, though a close study of the text
demonstrates that Nebuchadnezzar never succeeds in completely casting
off the moorings of Babylonian religion. The preceding chapter has
continued to beat the drum of Daniel’s distinctiveness. When Belshazzar
seeks an explanation of the meaning of the writing on the wall he calls first
for the Chaldeans to interpret it. We are now familiar with this pattern of
leaving Daniel till last. Emphasis on this point in the text suggests much
concerning the state of mind of the king in each case. But it is also a skilful
literary device used repeatedly in order to keep before the mind of the
reader the distinctiveness of Daniel. So now again at the beginning of yet
another reign it is time for Daniel’s distinctiveness to be demonstrated
afresh. This time Daniel’s distinctiveness consists in ‘his exceptional
qualities’ which are such as to make him stand out before Darius. He is
distinguished among the administrators and satraps to such a degree that
the king plans to entrust all political power and authority to him. Again we
must remember that Belshazzar had actually had this proclaimed. But in
Daniel 5 it is imperative to recognize that ‘the Most High God is sovereign
over the kingdoms of men and sets over them anyone he wishes’ (v. 21).
Because Belshazzar had not humbled himself like his father, his kingdom
was given to another and as a consequence Belshazzar did not actually
have the ability to give Daniel supreme political authority. Thus, it follows
that the authority Darius wants to give Daniel is due to the sovereignty of
the Most High.”

Next in vv. 4–5, we read: “Because of this, the administrators and
regional authorities tried to bring allegations of dereliction of duty in
government affairs against Daniel, but they were unable to find any
charges of corruption. Daniel was trustworthy, and no evidence of
negligence or corruption could be found against him. So these men said,
‘We’ll never find any basis for complaint against Daniel unless we build it
on the requirements of his God.’”
The other two supervisors collaborated with the satraps, but only those
closer to Babylon itself, to find a pretext against Daniel. They were
looking for some motive or cause [even though falsely alleged] that they
could bring against Daniel regarding how he handled the administrative
matters of the kingdom. However, as hard as they looked, they could not
find any pretext or any evidence of corruption in Daniel. The reason was
simple: “Daniel was trustworthy.” He was a reliable man, one who could
be counted on to do what was right and not stoop to foul play of any kind.
Here was a man of integrity, who because he was first and foremost
committed to pleasing God, could be trusted by others to do what was
right. In fact, the Aramaic šālû [for “negligence”] is a cognate equivalent
of the Akkadian šillatu [or “improper speech”].
John Walton [21st century ancient Near Eastern scholar] also says:
“Blasphemy is a recognized offense in the ancient Near Eastern way of
thinking. The ‘sins of the tongue’ in Akkadian texts included making
frivolous oaths and blasphemy (Akkadian šillatu). The same verb could
also be used of slander, insult, and insolence—in short, a wide variety of
offensive speech. It was considered a serious offense and sometimes
identified as a possible cause of illness in medical diagnostic texts.”
So, although the antagonists of Daniel knew that they could not defame
him, they still planned deviously “on the requirements of his God.”
Everyone was aware that Daniel was religiously different from the
Babylonian religion. Thus, if they could somehow bring his religious
convictions in conflict with the state, their attack would be successful.
Obviously, the resentment toward Daniel was strong. Since Daniel was
Jewish, others in the administration who were race conscious resented his
elevation in government, especially the idea that he might be promoted to
a rank next to the king himself!
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Thus, God placed Daniel in this position for a special reason, because not
only was he a capable administrator, but he was in this high position to
help carry out God’s covenant program. From God’s perspective, this was
a significant time, because during 539–538 b.c., two key events took place:
1. Since Cyrus entered Babylon on the 29th of October in 539 b.c.,
Daniel met him and shared with him Isaiah’s astonishing prophecy
about the coming of Cyrus ~150 years before conquering Babylon:
“Shout for joy, you heavens, for the Lord has done it! Shout aloud,
you depths of the earth! Burst out with singing, you mountains, you
forest, and all your trees! For the Lord has redeemed Jacob and
will display his glory in Israel. This is what the Lord says, your
Redeemer and the one who formed you in the womb: ‘I am the
Lord, who has made everything, who alone stretched out the
heavens, who spread out the earth—who was with me at that
time?—who frustrates the omens of idle talkers, and drives diviners
mad, who turns back the wise, and makes their knowledge foolish;
who carries out the words of his servants, and fulfils the
predictions of his messengers, who says of Jerusalem, ‘It will be
inhabited,’ and of Judah’s cities, ‘They will be rebuilt,’ and of her
ruins, ‘I’ll raise them up’; who says to the watery deep, ‘Be dry—
I’ll dry up your rivers’; who says about Cyrus, ‘He’s my shepherd,
and he’ll carry out everything that I please: He’ll say of Jerusalem,
‘Let it be rebuilt,’ and of my Temple, ‘Let its foundations be laid
again.’ This is what the Lord says to his anointed, Cyrus, whose
right hand I have grasped to subdue nations before him, as I strip
kings of their armour, to open doors before him and gates that
cannot keep closed: ‘I myself will go before you, and he will make
the mountains level; I’ll shatter bronze doors and cut through iron
bars. I’ll give you concealed treasures and riches hidden in secret
places, so that you’ll know that it is I, the Lord, the God of Israel,
who calls you by name. For the sake of Jacob my servant, Israel
my chosen, I’ve called you, and he has established you with a
name, although you have not acknowledged me. I am the Lord, and
there is no other besides me: and there are no gods. I’m
strengthening you, although you have not acknowledged me, so
that from the sun’s rising to the west people may know that there
is none besides me.’” [Isaiah 44:22–45:6]

Josephus [1st century Jewish historian] says: “In the 1st year of the
reign of Cyrus, which was the 70th year from the day that our
people were removed out of their own land into Babylon, God
commiserated the captivity and calamity of these poor people,
according as he had foretold to them by Jeremiah the prophet,
before the destruction of the city, that after they has served
Nebuchadnezzar and his posterity, and after they had undergone
that servitude 70 years, he would restore them again to the land of
their fathers, and they should build their temple, and enjoy their
ancient prosperity; and these things God did afford them; for he
stirred up the mind of Cyrus, and made him write this throughout
all Asia: ‘Thus saith Cyrus the King: Since God Almighty hath
appointed me to be king of the habitable earth, I believe that he is
that God which the nation of the Israelites worship; for indeed he
foretold my name by the prophets; and that I should build him a
house at Jerusalem, in the country of Judea.’ This was known to
Cyrus by his reading the book which Isaiah left behind him of his
prophecies; for this prophet said that God had spoken thus to him
in a secret vision: ‘My will is, that Cyrus, whom I have appointed
to be king over many and great nations, send back my people to
their own land, and build my temple.’ This was foretold by Isaiah
140 years before the temple was demolished. Accordingly, when
Cyrus read this, and admired the divine power, an earnest desire
and ambition seized upon him to fulfil what was so written; so he
called for the most eminent Jews that were in Babylon [Daniel],
and said to them, that he gave them leave to go back to their own
country, and to rebuild their city Jerusalem, and the temple of God,
for that he would be their assistant, and that he would write to the
rulers and governors that were in the neighbourhood of their
country of Judea, that they should contribute to them gold and
silver for the building of the temple, and beasts for sacrifices.”
John Oswalt [21st century biblical scholar] likewise summarizes:
“The ‘redeemer’ now spells out in the greatest detail yet what his
redemptive plans are. Here he names the ‘one from the east’
(Isaiah 41:2) who will be Israel’s saviour. Furthermore, he
specifies why Jerusalem will have good tidings to share with the
surrounding towns (Isaiah 40:9). The man’s name is ‘Cyrus,’ the
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Persian king who will conquer Babylon and who will see to it that
Jerusalem’s temple is rebuilt (Isaiah 28). But, the naming of Cyrus
is only the final act in a long list. Isaiah 44:24–28 comprises a
single sentence consisting of a succession of participles that define
‘I am the Lord’ in v. 24. Whereas Hebrew infinitives express pure
undefined action (‘running’), participles focus on the one
performing the action, the actor (‘one who is running’). Here God
identifies himself and demonstrates his lordship by what he does.
He is the creator, who ‘made’ everything, stretching out ‘the
heavens’ and spreading out ‘the earth.’ He is the Lord of history
(vv. 25–26), revealing what he is doing to ‘his servants’ the
prophets and making ‘fools’ of those who try to predict the future
by means of magical continuities. He is the redeemer (vv. 26–28),
who is able to rebuild the ruined ‘Jerusalem’ and its surrounding
towns. It is not clear why the drying up of the ‘deep’ is referred to
in the context of redemption. Many scholars see this as an allusion
to the triumph of the ‘creator’ god over chaos, and that is certainly
a possibility in view of the clear allusions in Isaiah 27:1; 51:9.
However, there is also the possibility that the Exodus is being
alluded to, and that would make more sense in the context of
redemption (Exodus 15:5; Psalm 106:9). Because he is the creator
and the Lord of history and the redeemer, he is even able to use a
pagan emperor to accomplish his purposes. Cyrus now receives
his commission from God. He is specifically said to be God’s
‘anointed’ or Messiah (Isaiah 45:1). The victories that will come to
him will be gifts from God’s hand (Isaiah 45:2–3). They will not be
his own accomplishments but will come from God for two
purposes: that Cyrus himself might know that Yahweh, ‘the God of
Israel,’ is ‘the Lord,’ and that his work in history might be done
‘for the sake of Jacob my servant.’ Twice is it said that God has
called Cyrus ‘by name.’ This underlines the importance of the
naming of Cyrus as an act of predictive prophecy. Isaiah has
repeatedly insisted that God alone can tell the future (Isaiah
41:21–24, 26–27; 43:12; 44:7, 26; 45:20–21; 46:10; 48:3), and
that the attempts to do so by the devotees of the gods only make
them look like ‘fools’ (Isaiah 44:25). His ability to name the
deliverer far in advance is the climactic demonstration of this fact.
If we deny the obvious predictive claim that Isaiah of Jerusalem is

making and instead posit some unknown person simply declaring
after the fact that Cyrus was God’s man, we have made this
unknown prophet deny the very thing he claims. God has, then,
not named the deliverer in advance and the prophet knows it. That
is not great theology; it is misrepresentation of the facts. One of the
evidences of God’s lordship is that he knows the name of one who
does not know God’s name (Isaiah 45:4–5). Even if Cyrus has
never heard of Yahweh of Israel, Yahweh knows about Cyrus
even before he is born. It is neither the Persian Ahura–mazda nor
the Babylonian Marduk who rules the world of time and space, but
Yahweh. The statement that Cyrus will recognize this eventually is
an interesting one, and depending on how the identity of Darius
in Daniel’s book is resolved, that book may give evidence of the
realization of the promise (Daniel 6:26–27).”
Gleason Archer [20th century biblical scholar] likewise concludes:
“If the future generation living at the time of the fall of Babylon in
539 B.C. was to have any clear confirmation that the God of
Abraham and Moses was still watching over their national destiny,
and was ready to do for them a work of restoration that had never
been the experience of any other exiled nation, then they needed a
very striking and decisive token of his continuing favour and
care. This could hardly be communicated in any other way so
decisively as if God back in Isaiah’s time would actually specify
the name of their liberator. As the discouraged and disheartened
exiles could hear of the rise of Cyrus and his successive victories
over the Medes and the Lydians, they would remember Isaiah’s
prophecy concerning this man and would have faith to believe
that God would really do a new thing on their behalf and would
restore them to their land. The revelation of the very name of the
future liberator is presented as the climax of the entire prophecy in
Isaiah 44 and then continues on with this theme through the first
portion of Isaiah 45. It cannot be regarded as a later insertion, for
it serves as the capstone of the arch in the structure of the
passage in which it occurs. Therefore, we may rest assured that it
is an authentic prediction of a pivotal event in holy history,
destined to take place over 150 years later than the date of the
prophecy itself.”
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2. The 1st year of Cyaxares II was a time of intensive study and prayer
for Daniel [later in Daniel 9:1–3]. He would have realized through
his study of Jeremiah 25:11 that the time was drawing near for God
to act again on Israel’s behalf. Thus, of key importance was Cyrus’
decree made during his 1st year of rule [Ezra 1:1–4]. This decree
granted official permission to the Jews to return to their land and to
rebuild the Temple. If this decree was made in Cyrus’ 1st regnal
year, then it was proclaimed during March/April of 538 b.c to
March/April of 537 b.c., and most likely after the events recorded
in Daniel 6. Thus, it is highly possible that Daniel, in his position
of authority and influence, counselled Cyrus to make the decree
permitting the return and rebuilding of the Temple at Jerusalem!
Finally in vv. 6–9, we read: “Then these administrators and regional
authorities went as a group to the king and said this, ‘Your majesty, live
forever! All of the royal administrators, prefects, regional authorities,
scribes, and governors have concluded that the king should establish and
enforce an edict that anyone who prays to any god or man for the next 30
days (except to you, your majesty) is to be thrown into the lions’ pit.
Therefore, your majesty, establish the decree and sign the written
document so it can’t be changed, in accordance with the laws of the Medes
and Persians that can’t be repealed.’ So King Darius signed the edict
contained in the written document.”
Thus, a conspiracy was hatched against Daniel, and as a result the other
two supervisors and representatives of the satraps came to the king. This is
because the Aramaic verb hargišû [for “went as a group”] is a Hapʿel
perfect of the root rᵊgaš, which means they approached the king with
conspiracy in mind. In fact, this is one of the most difficult translation
problems in Daniel’s book, because the LXX, Vulgate, and Syriac
translate the word differently. For example, the LXXθ translated it by the
Greek parestēsan [aorist of paristēmi], meaning that they stood by the
king, while the LXXΟ translated it by the Greek prosēlthosan [aorist of
proserchomai], meaning that they came forward/approached the king.
Thus, both Greek translations say that these officials came to the king
without clarifying in what manner or with what motive they did so. So, to
come tumultuously to the king would suggest that they came making a lot
of commotion, but this would be out of keeping with court etiquette.
 284

Thus, despite the tension with the idea of a noisy crowd, the verb could
suggest that a “group” acted by agreement, but with the bustle that a crowd
inevitably makes. Nevertheless, although there is no biblical data outside
Daniel 6 for the Aramaic rᵊgaš, we do have the Hebrew verb rāgaš to
compare! For example, in Psalm 64:2, we have a derivative form of rᵊgaš
in parallel with the Hebrew noun sôḏ [or “counsel”], which reads: “hide
me from the secret plots [missôḏ] of the wicked, from the mob [mērigšaṯ]
of those who practice evil.” So, notice that this parallelism suggests a
meaning more in line with a conspiracy or plotting. Another example is
Psalm 2:1, which reads: “why are the nations in an uproar [rāgšû], and
their people involved in a vain plot [yehgû]?” Thus, in this context we find
rāgaš paralleled with people devising a plot, and both of these biblical
examples exhibit rāgaš in parallel with words suggesting a conspiring plot.
Thus, it seems more reasonable to take malkāʾ as part of the genitive
construct with qᵊyām. It is too unnatural as the subject of the infinitive. In
fact, they were only making a proposal to the king, and were not ordering
him what to do, because the correct legal nuance of the Aramaic ṯaqqāpâ
[for “enforce”] was an interdialectal semantic equivalent of the Assyrian
verb dunnunu [or “make valid and binding”]. So, they presented a proposal
for a royal edict to be established by the king that would prohibit anyone
from praying or making petition to any deity or man other than to the king
himself for a 30–day period. They also proposed a penalty for violation of
the edict: being thrown into a pit of lions, since they were captured for
sport and hunting, as depicted on Assyrian and Babylonian iconography:

Jerome [4th century] nails it: “It was well said that they ‘went
surreptitiously,’ for they did not come right out with what they were
aiming at, but contrived their plot against a private enemy on the pretext
of honoring the king.”

Furthermore, it is debated whether the Aramaic malkāʾ [for “the king”]

should go with the Aramaic qᵊyām [for “edict”] as a genitive construct, or
whether it should stand independently and serve as the subject of the
infinitive. Thus, some scholars have opted to view it in construct with
qᵊyām and translate it as genitive of attribute: “royal edict” [not “edict of
the king”], while other scholars take “the king” as the subject of the
infinitive lᵊqayyāmâ and translate it as: “the king should establish and
enforce an edict.” Nevertheless, there are two arguments for “royal edict”:

1. It would be a bit unnatural for the subject of the infinitive [in this
case, malkāʾ] to be separated from the infinitive by having the
object [qᵊyām] stand between them.

2. The LXXθ, Vulgate, and Syriac view malkāʾ as part of a genitive
construct with qᵊyām. There is some understandable motivation for
taking malkāʾ as the subject of the infinitive, namely that it more
clearly specifies the king as the one who issues/establishes the edict
rather than his officials. Otherwise, it reads: “All the chief ministers
have taken counsel with each other to establish a royal edict.”
Some scholars doubt that the intent of the statute was to prohibit prayer to
all gods [given their polytheism] as this would prohibit the religious
practice of every subject and would have risked the wrath of all gods.
Instead, Darius was setting himself up as the sole mediator for prayers for
a 30–day period, specifically if Darius is connected with Zoroastrianism.
In other words, he would be honouring Ahura Mazda to all Iranians.

Ernest Lucas [21st century biblical scholar] says: “The content and
implications of this decree have caused much debate. There is no evidence
that the Persian kings were ever inclined to deify themselves. This leads
some scholars to suggest that the decree simply made the king the sole
representative of the deity for the period of 30 days. All prayers to god, or
the gods, would need to be channelled through him. But why would the
king accept such a suggestion? Walton argues that the decree makes sense
in the context of the struggle in Persia between the advocates of pure
Zoroastrianism and the supporters of the traditional Persian religion who
advocated a syncretistic form of religion, which the Magi seem to have
favoured. The decree could be seen as a stand against syncretism, with the
king representing Ahura Mazda. Given the Persian rulers’ tolerant
attitude to the religion of their subject peoples, Darius probably intended
the decree to apply to the Persian population alone. Daniel fell foul of it
because he was a very senior Persian official.”
Michael Wilson [21st century biblical scholar] extensively explains:
“What’s the force and nature of Darius’ decree? If he was deifying himself
then we might reason that this served to establish Darius’ kingly authority,
on the assumption that in the ancient world the veneration of a king as a
divine figure made subjects more unwilling to risk divine wrath by
opposing such a person. However, most scholars will not accept that a
Persian king could ever have declared himself to be the only god who
could be worshiped for a period of 30 days. The reference to a 30–day
period may indicate that Daniel’s book belongs to a context in which
dates and times are calculated according to a solar calendar.
Alternatively, as Boccaccini observes, the 30–day period may have no
relationship at all with the month. Then again, it may simply refer to the
Mesopotamian calendar used at the king’s court. Presumably, the
monotheistic worship of Ahura Mazda in pure Zoroastrianism would run
counter to self–deification on the part of a king. Even if pure
Zoroastrianism was not practiced at this time there is no indication that
Achaemenid kings had any tendency toward self–deification. Petitionary
prayer was a required and regular aspect of Iranian worship and was an
essential element of pure Zoroastrianism. Darius the Great prayed not
only to Ahura Mazda but to all the gods to keep enemy hordes, famine, and
the ‘Lie’ away from the empire. Prayer was deemed essential for evil
forces to be held at bay. Walton comments, ‘It was a requirement in the
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practice of even a syncretized Zoroastrianism that, even if not practiced by
Darius the Mede, would have been practiced by a large majority of Medes
and Persians.’ Indeed, Daniel’s practice of praying three times a day
accorded with pagan Iranian custom. Zoroastrianism involved praying
five times a day to Ahura Mazda. Consequently, Walton reasons that ‘for
Darius the Mede to decree even a temporary end to prayer would be
unenforceable and politically suicidal, for he would be prohibiting the
religious practice of every Iranian.’ Further it was recognized that all
deities had some degree of power. Therefore, tolerance of other religions
was typical. It follows, as Walton observes, that: ‘to deprive all other gods
of the prayer of their followers was to risk the wrath of all deities, again
making it unlikely that that was the intention.’ A number of scholars do not
understand v. 8 as meaning that Darius saw himself as a god. Rather, for
the period of 30 days, Darius acts as the only legitimate representative of
the gods. Keil and Delitzsch, following Klieforth, believe, ‘The object of
the law was only to bring about the general recognition of the principle
that the king was the living manifestation of all the gods, not only of the
Median and Persian, but also of the Babylonian and Lydian, and all the
gods of the conquered nations. All the nations subjected to the Medo–
Persian kingdom were required not to abandon their own special worship
rendered to their gods, but in fact to acknowledge that the Medo–Persian
world–ruler Darius was also the son and representative of their national
gods. For this purpose they must for the space of 30 days present their
petitions to their national gods only in him as their manifestation.’ In 3rd
century AD Persian theology the king was seen as the representative of
deity and could even assume the title ‘god’ (bagh). As such he acted as a
mediator. In v. 8 it may be that the king is banning priestly mediation for
a month while he himself acts as the sole mediator for prayers to all
deities. The developing syncretism of Zarathuštra’s teaching may help
explain Darius’ decree. Walton notes that during the time of Xerxes I
(486–465 BC) the worship of the daivas (deities unacceptable to
Zarathuštra) was prohibited. As a consequence certain temples of the
daivas were destroyed as Xerxes acted to suppress syncretism. Walton
reasons that a decree forbidding the worship of the daivas could well have
taken the same kind of form as the decree of Darius in Daniel 6. However,
we know of no such injunctions prior to Xerxes. Walton ponders the
possibility that Darius was acting to counter the development of the kind
of Zoroastrian calendar–based worship that arose during the reign of

Xerxes’ successor, Artaxerxes I (465–425 BC). At that time the Magi
replaced the civil and religious calendars previously employed. In this
syncretistic calendar each of the 30 days of the month was associated with
the name of particular deities called yazatas. Assuming such a
background, Walton proposes that Darius was approached by the
conspirators ‘with the suggestion that by setting himself up as the only
legitimate mediator for prayers for a period of 30 days a stand could be
made for the worship of Ahura Mazda according to the pure teachings of
Zarathuštra. While it would certainly not eliminate syncretism nor depose
the Magi from their powerful position, it would make a statement
concerning the stand of the king, throwing his support to orthodox
Zoroastrianism.’ Walton notes that all Persian kings were committed to
the public performance of prayers each day. Cyrus established an elevated
stand for fire (the most sacred element in Zoroastrianism) for the
performance of the king’s daily ritual. The intention may have been to
exclude the use of images in public worship. Therefore, Darius’ action
was possibly aimed at publicly expressing his opposition to syncretism
and providing a royal model of orthodoxy. For the month concerned as
‘each individual directed his daily prayers to the king as mediator, the
king in his public ritual would direct those prayers to Ahura Mazda.’”
Wendy Widder [21st century biblical scholar] summarizes and concludes:
“Notice that the actual nature of the law proposed by the conspirators is
not as straightforward as it first appears for at least two reasons: the
nature of Medo–Persian religion (Zoroastrianism) and the context of
Daniel 6. First, the decree conflicts with what we know about Medo–
Persian religious practice. While pure Zoroastrianism was monolatrous in
its worship of Ahura Mazda, kings and commoners alike practiced a
syncretistic form of the religion, worshiping many gods. Since every god
was believed to have some power, maintaining favour with all of them was
important to one’s well–being. Prohibiting prayer to other gods would risk
divine wrath, not to mention it would be unenforceable and politically
suicidal for Darius, for he would be prohibiting the religious practice of
every Iranian. Additionally, it would be peculiar for Darius to require that
people pray to him since Mesopotamian kings did not deify themselves
(unlike their Egyptian counterparts). However, as Young observes, ‘Who
is to say that an oriental despot, yielding to the subtle flattery of such a
proposal, might not, in a weak moment, have agreed to it? This is not the
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first time in history that men have acted foolishly and entered upon an ill–
considered plan of action, only to regret it later.’ Montgomery further
notes the rhetorical effect of Darius’ so–called divinity: ‘The king with
despotic power and his formal claims to divine rights was the symbol and
summation of the denial of the true God. Hence monarchs like
Nebuchadnezzar and Darius, who otherwise are sympathetically treated,
appear as the incarnation of all the forces arrayed against God.’
Furthermore, Persian rulers did not require their foreign subjects to adopt
the native religious practice. We have only to think of Cyrus’ decree in 539
BC, in which the host government encouraged and funded captives who
wanted to return to their lands to re–establish their national religions. The
decree also fits uneasily in the context of Daniel 6. As the chapter unfolds,
Darius is dismayed when Daniel turns up guilty. It stretches the
imagination to think that Darius knew Daniel well enough to make him
second–in–command, but he didn’t suspect his deep religious convictions,
and his references later in the chapter to the God Daniel served
‘continually’ suggest his awareness of Daniel’s commitment (vv. 16, 20).
Furthermore, Daniel will claim innocence before the king (v. 22). Would
he make such a claim if he had defied the king’s order? Compare this with
his compatriots’ bold defiance of Nebuchadnezzar’s order to bow down to
the golden image (Daniel 3:16–18). Apparently, whatever the king
decreed, it did not occur to him that Daniel would turn up guilty for
praying to his God. Walton has proposed that Darius’ decree revolved
around a conflict in Persia between those who advocated a strict
monolatrous version of Zoroastrianism and those who favoured the more
commonly practiced syncretistic version. The conspirators against Daniel
made the case that if Darius served as ‘the only legitimate mediator for
prayers for a period of 30 days a stand could be made for the worship of
Ahura Mazda according to the pure teachings of Zoroaster.’ In this
scenario, Darius was not acting as a god but only as the priest of the god
Ahura Mazda. His action would not fix the problem of syncretistic
worship, but it would make a strong political statement in favour of
orthodox Zoroastrianism. Why Darius would have felt compelled to make
such a statement probably has more to do with the power play being made
by ‘everyone’ in his government. If everyone was in favour of the decree,
Darius obviously lacked any political support to oppose it. This brings us
back to the question of why Daniel was considered guilty of what would
have been an insiders’ fight. As a foreigner, Daniel had his own God and

was not involved in the Persian cult. However, Darius’ officials could
easily have made the case that anyone who stood to be promoted to
second–in–command should keep the letter of the law. So, if the king
wanted to promote an exile from Judah to such a position, the very least he
could require was total allegiance. In this case, Daniel was not
technically guilty of the offense, but a weak Darius had no choice but to
bow to the demands of his officials. The conspirators convinced Darius to
make the decree and then put it in writing, so that it could not be changed
or repealed, according to ‘the law of the Medes and Persians’ (v. 8). This
notion of the immutable Medo–Persian law appears in Esther 1:19; 8:8,
although it is not clearly documented in extra–biblical sources. In Daniel
6 it contributes to a larger theme of who has the right to rule—that is, who
really is sovereign. The law of the Medes and Persians may have been
thought irrevocable, but Darius’ decree ultimately came to nothing—at
least, for Daniel. Even with the power of the Medo–Persian law behind it,
the prohibition was unable to accomplish its intended purpose. The power
the conspirators banked on backfired, landing them in lions’ mouths
instead. By contrast, Daniel cast his lot with the power behind the law of
his God, the one who is sovereign over all.”
Thus, the king must have noticed Daniel’s absence among these officials,
but he did not suspect that their motive was to entrap Daniel. Nevertheless,
they had actually lied to the king in saying that “all” the chief ministers
had counselled together to make the proposal, for Daniel had clearly been
left out. This lie eventually came back to haunt them. According to v. 8,
they urged the king to sign the edict [to put his seal to it], making it unable
to be changed or annulled, in keeping with the laws of the Medes and the
Persians [Esther 1:19; 8:8]. These laws that were irrevocable were not
statutory laws, but decrees or verdicts. This custom goes along with
Mesopotamian legal tradition that indicates a judge must not reverse a
verdict once written down; if he does he should be removed from office
[Laws of Hammurabi §5]. The unchangeable nature of Persian decrees
may be illustrated by Diodorus Siculus [History 17.30.1–7], who indicated
that Darius III of Persia [336–330 b.c.] angrily issued an edict of death on
a certain Charidemus, but “once the king’s passion had cooled he promptly
regretted his act and reproached himself for having made a serious
mistake, but all his royal power was not able to undo what was done.”
There is an alternative reading that he could not undo the order because the
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execution had already been carried out. This doctrine of the irrevocable
nature of decrees or verdicts was based on the assumption that kings make
such decisions by divine inspiration [Proverbs 16:10; 21:1], which in
theory cannot be wrong. Thus, this was a strict policy, that laws once
enacted could not be changed or annulled, and so the proposal seemed
reasonable to the king, and he signed it into law [v. 9]. Furthermore,
critical scholars contend that Media stood as a separate empire between
Babylonia and Persia. However, notice that by referring to this as “the
laws of the Medes and Persians,” Daniel did not think of a Median Empire
that was separate from Persia. Instead, he understood that they were a joint
kingdom that was initially ruled by Darius the Mede [Cyaxares II].
4) How was Daniel detected, condemned, and sentenced? (6:10–18)
Starting with v. 10, we read: “When Daniel learned that the written
document had been signed, he went to an upstairs room in his house that
had windows opened facing Jerusalem. Three times a day he would kneel
down, pray, and give thanks to his God, just as he had previously done.”
Thus, the news that the king had signed a new decree prohibiting the
worship of any other god for 30 days quickly reached Daniel, but this was
like a two–edged sword for Daniel. On the one hand, it represented an
attack by his fellow pagan officials against his faith in God, and on the
other hand, it was a divine test to see if Daniel would be faithful in the face
of persecution. So, Daniel had to make a choice on what he would do,
knowing full well what the consequences of disobeying the king’s decree
would mean. Furthermore, keep in mind that Daniel was also in his 80s,
and this was not the first time he had tough choices in light of his faith.
Thus, it is not surprising to see Daniel praying, since it gave him strength.
Theodoret [5th century Bishop of Cyr] says: “Note how much this verse
implied in a few words in mentioning the piety and courage of blessed
Daniel. First, when Daniel learned that the decision has been reached, ‘he
went into his house’—that is, when he got news of the passing of the law,
he had great scorn for it and continued openly doing the opposite. It next
mentions a further detail that reveals his courage: the windows were open,
it says—in other words, he said his prayers not in secret but openly, with
all watching, not for vainglory but in scorn for the impiety of the law.”

Daniel’s living quarters had an upper room [or roof chamber] that had
ample windows [for the hot environment of the Middle East]. Such an
elevated room allowed for better ventilation and comforting breeze [2
Samuel 18:33; 1 Kings 17:19], but obviously Daniel could have chosen a
less conspicuous place to pray, for he was quite confident that his enemies
would be watching him. Nevertheless, he wanted to maintain his testimony
before them; his love and worship of God were not something negotiable.
Furthermore, the upper room windows were opened toward Jerusalem.
The significance of this relates back to Solomon’s prayer at the dedication
of the Jerusalem Temple [1 Kings 8:27–30, 46–50]. In this prayer,
Solomon looked ahead to the days when the Jewish people would be taken
away into exile because of their sins [Deuteronomy 4:25–31; 28:64–68].
But, if while they were in exile they would humble themselves, repent, and
pray toward the place where their Temple had once stood, God would
forgive them and restore them from captivity [Deuteronomy 30:1–3].
Gregory Goswell [21st century biblical scholar] says: “What Daniel is
modelling is not the pious practice of daily prayers per se but unbending
loyalty to God’s kingship and rule, as demonstrated by his earnest concern
for the fate of the Jerusalem temple (God’s palace).”
So, although the Jerusalem Temple laid in ruins [destroyed by the
Babylonians in 586 b.c.], Daniel continued this practice in hopes that
someday his people would be allowed to return and rebuild Jerusalem, and
he will soon give us a glimpse of his prayers [later in Daniel 9:1–19].
Thus, since Daniel knew that the 70 years of exile had nearly finished
[Jeremiah 29:10, 14], he prayed three times a day [Psalm 55:17].
In summary, prayer is an important religious obligation. Daniel was
confronted with a stark choice: obey “the requirements of his God” [v. 6]
or “the laws of the Medes and Persians that can’t be repealed” [v. 9].
Thus, the choice was: obey God or man. If he chooses the former, it puts
his life at risk, but if he chooses the latter, he betrays his God and his own
spiritual integrity. Thus, the need to show faithfulness, despite putting
oneself at risk, is an important theme in Daniel, and he chose God and
made no attempt to hide his violation of the decree in an act of civil
disobedience. In other words, when he learned about the law, he carried on
as if nothing had changed, because for him, nothing had changed!
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For Daniel, Yahweh was still his God. Like Shadrach, Meshach, and
Abednego, he cast himself at the mercy of God, who may or may not
deliver him. His God’s house lay in ruins in Jerusalem, but even under the
threat of death, Daniel did not waver. His predictability may have given
his enemies confidence that their plot would succeed, but Daniel’s routine
gave Diaspora Jews an example of faithfulness to follow, even unto death!
Jerome [4th century] likewise says: “We must quickly draw from our
memory and bring together from all of holy scripture all the passages
where we have read of domata, which means in Latin either ‘walled
enclosures’ (menia) or ‘beds’ or ‘sun terraces,’ and also the references to
anogaia, that is, ‘upper rooms.’ For after all, our Lord celebrated the
Passover in an upper room [Mark 14:13–25], and the Holy Spirit came on
the 120 souls of believers while they were in an upper room [Acts 2:1–4],
and so Daniel in this case, despising the king’s commands and reposing
his confidence in God, does not offer his prayers in some obscure spot but
in a lofty place, and he opens up his windows toward Jerusalem, from
whence he looked for the peace of God. He prays, moreover, according to
God’s behest and according to what Solomon had said when he
admonished the people that they should pray in the direction of the
temple. Furthermore, there are three times in the day when we should bow
our knees to God, and the tradition of the church understands them to be
the 3rd hour [9:00 am], the 6th hour [12:00 pm], and the 9th hour [3:00 pm].
Last, it was at the 3rd hour that the Holy Spirit descended on the apostles.
It was at the 6th hour that Peter, purposing to eat, ascended to the upper
room for prayer [Acts 10:9]. It was at the 9th hour that Peter and John
were on their way to the temple [Acts 3:1].”
Next in vv. 11–15, we read: “The conspirators then went as a group and
found Daniel praying and seeking help before his God. So they
approached the king and asked, ‘Didn’t you sign an edict that for the next
30 days if anyone prays to any god or man, except to you, your majesty, he
would be thrown into the lions’ pit?’ The king responded, ‘The decree has
been established, in accordance with the laws of the Medes and Persians
that can’t be repealed.’ Then they told the king, ‘Daniel, who is one of the
Judean exiles, pays no attention to you, your majesty, or to the written
decree, since he is still praying three times a day.’ When the king heard
this, he was greatly upset, because he was determined to make every effort

to save Daniel before the sun set. But the men who had gone as a group to
the king told him, ‘Remember, your majesty, that according to the laws of
the Medes and Persians, any decree or edict that the king establishes
cannot be repealed.’”
Thus, Daniel’s antagonists came to his personal quarters looking for him,
and their devious plot underlay their visit. This would have come as no
surprise to Daniel, and the way he handled the situation is exemplary.
Notice first that he did not try to retaliate against them with a vindictive
spirit. Also, he did not rationalize the situation or attempt to compromise
his faithful responsibility. It might have been tempting for him to dodge
this difficulty by merely ceasing his prayers for one month, or he could
have found a way to pray privately beyond the eye of any onlookers. That
he did not do these things suggests that his paramount concern was in
being a faithful witness to the unsaved, not in being politically correct. He
could do this because he had no shame in God [Matthew 10:32–33].
Observing Daniel, they found him “praying and seeking help before his
God.” In fact, the Aramaic verb bᵊ āʾ [for “seeking help”] is used as
wordplay throughout the chapter [including its cognate noun bā û], and
this will become clear when Daniel ignores the royal decree.
Bill Arnold [21st century biblical scholar] extensively explains the details:
“In characterizing Daniel’s enemies, the narrator uses the most striking
literary device in this chapter: the use of bĕ āʾ (‘ask, seek’) and šĕkaḥ
(‘find’) as Leitwörter. This is a convention of biblical prose in which
leading words are repeated as a structuring and focusing device. Through
abundant repetition, the semantic range of the word–root is explored,
different forms of the root are deployed, branching off at times into
phonetic relatives (that is, wordplay), synonymity, and antonymity. After
the orientation in the first four verses, the author makes an important
opening statement using a high concentration of these verbs. Whereas
Daniel 5 provided an example of ‘phrasal repetition’ in which whole
statements were repeated, here we have this focusing device in which
leading words are repeated. As the chapter unfolds, the narrator continues
to use these verbs repeatedly to contrast Daniel’s character with that of
his enemies. Daniel’s enemies recommend a royal decree that no one
‘make a petition’ to any god or man except to the king for 30 days (v. 8).
Darius, not suspecting collusion, grants their request. The expression
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‘make a petition’ is a cognate accusative from the root bĕ āʾ (‘seek, ask’),
which was used first in v. 5 when these men were ‘seeking’ to find an
accusation against Daniel. The narrator’s use of bĕ āʾ in this chapter
stretches its natural semantic range, as becomes clear when one considers
its other uses and the other Aramaic words available for ‘pray’ or ‘make
petition.’ The primary meaning of bĕ āʾ is ‘to search for,’ as is borne out
in Daniel 2:13, where royal executioners search for the wise men to kill
them. A secondary meaning is to request compassion and grace from a
deity or king, and this is the meaning in Daniel 2:18; 6:8, 12, 14. The first
of these two meanings is present in the Akkadian cognate buʾû, which is
commonly ‘look for, search for.’ In this regard, the Akkadian term can
even be used in a similar fashion as bĕ āʾ in Daniel 6:5, that is, ‘to seek’
with words referring to evil intentions. For example: RN ana muḫḫi RN2
aḫišu ṣaburta mimma la u–ba–’–a (‘RN must not seek any malicious plots
against RN2’). But it does not appear to mean ‘pray’ anywhere in the
Akkadian literature. The narrator’s deliberate use of bĕ āʾ becomes
obvious when one considers the other Aramaic words available for ‘pray’
or ‘make supplication,’ which may have been used in Daniel 6. The verb
mitḥannan (‘make supplication’) was available and was in fact used in v.
12. But the author could have chosen it in place of bĕ āʾ in vv. 8, 13–14
just as naturally, if not with more clarity, and the more direct word for
‘pray’ (ṣĕlāʾ) was used only to describe Daniel’s defiant prayer in v. 11.
In other words, we are suggesting the narrator has used the primary
meaning of bĕʿāʾ in v. 5 in a deliberate and calculated fashion in order
to create a paronym in vv. 8 and 12–14, where the word is used in its
secondary meaning of ‘make petition.’ The point of the wordplay
becomes clear when Daniel ignores the royal decree. After he learned that
the decree had been issued, he went home to his upper chamber, where the
opened windows faced Jerusalem, and as was his custom, he prayed three
times, giving thanks to his God. After his enemies found Daniel ‘praying’
(or ‘seeking’ his God, v. 12), they reminded the king of his royal decree
regarding anyone who ‘makes a petition’ (or ‘seeks,’ v. 13) to any god or
man for 30 days. In v. 14, they proudly announce that Daniel ‘makes his
petition’ three times a day. Daniel’s enemies find what they are ‘seeking’
when he defies the royal decree and ‘makes petition’ to his God. Since the
semantic range for bĕ āʾ is quite broad, and in order to avoid confusion
while still using the pun, the narrator used the conjunction to tie
mitḥannan (‘make supplication’) to bĕ āʾ in v. 12. It specifies more

precisely the connotation intended by bĕ āʾ when applied to Daniel and
further brings into focus the contrast between Daniel and his enemies. The
verb bĕʿāʾ and its cognate accusative are repeated in v. 14 for emphasis,
which heightens the pun. Its recurrence in v. 14 is redundant because v.
13 repeats almost verbatim the phrase of v. 8 without the accusative. The
cognate accusatives may be used in vv. 8 and 14 to emphasize further the
play on the ‘seeking’ of Daniel as opposed to that of his enemies. Unlike
the metaphonic wordplay of Daniel 5, in which a verbal root is repeated in
a different derived stem, here the same word is repeated with a slightly
different nuance (antanaclasis). In v. 5, bĕ āʾ is clearly ‘seek’ with intent
to injure, while it means ‘pray’ elsewhere in the chapter. It is not unusual
in biblical narrative for puns to characterize Leitwörter in this way. The
other Leitwort used here is šĕkaḥ (‘find’), which is used in vv. 5–6, 12, 23–
24. In v. 5, Daniel’s enemies seek to ‘find’ a fault in him, and in v. 12 they
‘find’ him seeking God. So these two verbs (bĕʿāʾ and šĕkaḥ) are used in
vv. 5 and 12 in a sort of chiastic irony: Daniel’s enemies are ‘seeking’ to
‘find’ a fault in him (v. 5), but instead they ‘find’ him ‘seeking’ God (v.
12). The recurrences here throw into bold contrast the differences between
Daniel’s character and conduct and that of his enemies. The use of
characterizing wordplay to contrast Daniel and his enemies reaches a
climax in the chapter’s denouement. In Daniel’s closing speech to Darius,
he remarks that the lions did not harm him because he was ‘found’
(hištĕkaḥat) innocent before God and the king (v. 23). So while the
enemies of Daniel tried to find fault, God found innocence in Daniel. The
narrator goes on to state that when Daniel was lifted out of the den, no
harm was ‘found’ (hištĕkaḥ) on him, because he had trusted in his God (v.
24). As was true of wordplay in Daniel 5, this technique has interesting
theological significance here. In Daniel 6, bĕ āʾ and šĕkaḥ denote the
insidious hatred of Daniel’s enemies in their attempt to gain favour
politically. Both parties, Daniel and his enemies, are seeking something.
His enemies are seeking security by finding fault in Daniel, but Daniel is
seeking God, where he will find security as a by–product. This becomes a
central motif in the chapter, when, later on, these same terms ironically
reveal Daniel’s determination and faithfulness to pray only to his God.
The irony here is that his enemies think they have found Daniel’s
weakness, but the narrator knows they have actually found his greatest
strength. Indeed, it is his devotion to God that delivers him from the lions.
As in Daniel 5, wordplays are used to contrast human rebellion with the
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actions of God precipitated by that rebellion. In Daniel 5, God takes the
offensive position by sending a message to Belshazzar, but in Daniel 6 he
assumes a defensive position by protecting Daniel from the lions. In both
chapters, aggressive evil individuals are thwarted by God’s intervention.”
Thus, the characterizing wordplay contrasts Daniel with his antagonists,
and Daniel’s seeking of God ultimately upends their seeking to frame him!
So, armed with their discovery about Daniel, the antagonists rushed off to
inform the king, but before reporting Daniel’s violation of the king’s
decree, they first prompted the king to acknowledge his own prohibition
and affirmed that it was impossible to be annulled [being a law of the
Medes and Persians]. Thus, the trap was now fully set, but first they
reminded the king that Daniel was one of the captives from Judah and was
a foreigner who had been forcibly brought to Babylon against his will
[implying he was untrustworthy]. However, notice that they fail to say
anything about Daniel’s long history of loyal service in the realm of
Babylon [he had already been there ~66 years], and they say nothing of his
present position in which he had admirably served. Furthermore, they tried
to portray Daniel’s disobedience as a personal affront to the king, saying
that he “pays no attention to you, your majesty.” Then v. 14 reflects that
their report was upsetting to the king, but not for the reasons they
presented. The fact that the king immediately wanted to seek Daniel’s
rescue indicates that his displeasure was not with Daniel, but with the
other nobles who had accused Daniel. He realized that he was duped into
condemning Daniel, when in reality Daniel was one of the most competent
and loyal members in his service. They had not really urged this 30–day
law to honour the king [or to provide a loyalty check], but only to rid the
court of a rival they envied. Since the text indicates the king kept seeking a
way to rescue Daniel “before the sun set,” this implies that he was
obligated to act that day. Thus, in v. 15, the antagonists came back later in
the day to insist on the implementation of the penalty against Daniel.
Jerome [4th century] concludes: “From this passage we learn that we are
not to expose ourselves rashly to danger, but so far as it lies in our power,
we are to avoid the plots of our enemies, and so in Daniel’s case, he did
not contravene the king’s authority in a public square or out in the street,
but rather in a private place, in order that he might not neglect the
commands of the one true God almighty.”

Finally in vv. 16–18, we read: “At this point, the king ordered Daniel
brought in and thrown into the lions’ pit. The king spoke to Daniel, ‘Your
God, whom you serve constantly, will deliver you himself.’ A stone was
brought and placed over the opening to the pit, and the king affixed a seal
to it with his personal signet ring and with the signet rings of his officials
so that no one would interfere with Daniel’s situation. Then the king
retired to his palace to spend the night fasting. He enjoyed no
entertainment, and he couldn’t sleep.”
Although it is commonly understood to be a “den,” the Aramaic gôḇ [for
“pit”] means that it was a special construction for purposes of torture.
Lions were commonly kept by Assyrian, Babylonian, and Medo–Persian
monarchs for sporting purposes. They could also be used for torture, and
the thought of live humans becoming a meal for these ferocious hungry
lions would have been harrowing. Amazingly, the king sought to console
Daniel by telling him that the God whom he served “constantly” was able
to rescue him, which reflects the king’s acknowledgment that Daniel
worshiped this God unceasingly, and no earthly power could deter him
from that. This admission indicates Daniel’s testimony had not been in
vain. Furthermore, that the king regarded Daniel’s God as actually able to
rescue him reflects something of his own understanding about Yahweh.
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While he still remained a pagan king, his positive assessment of Daniel’s
God indicates that he had learned of the miraculous power of Yahweh
from Daniel himself. Nevertheless, some scholars render the Aramaic verb
yᵊš zᵊḇinnāḵ [from the root š ziḇ] as a jussive “may he rescue you”
because they think it is too much for a pagan king to assert outright that
Daniel’s God would rescue him. However, the presence of the letter nun
before the suffix makes a jussive unlikely. Thus, as an imperfect verb, it
could be classified as a potential imperfect: “your God is able to rescue
you.” Nevertheless, in either case, the king had some regard for Daniel’s
God as one who could do such miracles. It is of course possible that Daniel
had witnessed to the king on prior occasions, perhaps even telling him the
story of his three friends who were delivered from the burning furnace. If
so, the king could have had such a confidence in Daniel’s God, even
though he himself worshiped other deities. So, not only was a stone placed
over the opening to the lion pit, but it was marked by both the official seal
of the king and that of his nobles. The seal was made in wax and affixed to
ropes or chains that had been used to secure the stone in place. The
purpose was to make sure that no one tampered with the only way out for
Daniel, and only when they returned in the morning to view the results
could the seals be broken. Thus, waiting was not easy for Darius, as v. 18
indicates that this whole affair had troubled him so much that he cared
nothing for normal entertainment that evening, not even his royal meal. In
fact, the Aramaic wᵊḏaḥăwān [for “no entertainment”] is not only a hapax,
but is also a crux interpretum, because the exact meaning is simply not
able to be determined accurately, because other translations include:
“table,” “food,” “instruments of music,” “dancing girls,” and “perfumes.”
Some amend the hapax to ûlᵊḥēnān [or “concubines”], but this is doubtful,
despite how contextually appropriate such a suggestion might be.
Furthermore, although the LXXΟ omits the clause, the LXXθ translated it
as edesmata [or “foods”], which would have the same implication as
“tables.” Nevertheless, the best translation is “no entertainment” because it
is broad enough to capture the gist of the other translational options.
Jerome [4th century] says: “He sealed the rock by which the opening of the
pit was shut up, so that Daniel’s enemies might not attempt any harm, for
he had entrusted Daniel to God’s power. However, although he was not
worried about lions, he was fearful of men, so he had the nobles seal it in
order to avoid all ground for suspicion so far as they were concerned.”

Theodoret [5th century Bishop of Cyr] concludes: “Each of these details
testifies both to his humanity and to his cowardice: a mark of his
humanity was his refusing to partake of food or let his eyes rest in sleep,
instead staying awake in grief for the unjust punishment of Daniel; it was
a mark of cowardice that he was not so affected as to counter the accusers
and invoke his royal authority and power to save the wronged.”
5) How was Daniel saved and what happened to his enemies? (6:19–24)
Starting with vv. 19–20, we read: “The king got up at dawn and went
quickly to the lions’ pit. As he approached where Daniel was in the pit, he
cried out to him in a voice filled with anguish, ‘Daniel, servant of the
living God, has your God, whom you serve constantly, been able to deliver
you from the lions?’”
The king’s actions demonstrates his concern for Daniel’s welfare, because
he even had a glimmer of hope that Daniel might have survived, though
his “voice filled with anguish” betrays his intuition that this was most
unlikely. Nevertheless, Daniel was held in high esteem because:
1. His coming to the lion pit at the earliest possible moment.
2. The haste by which he went there.
3. The “voice filled with anguish” by which he spoke.
4. His address to Daniel as the “servant of the living God.”
In fact, notice that the expression “servant of the living God” is quite
remarkable from the lips of Darius in light of the numerous times that God
is described as “the living God” [Joshua 3:10; Deuteronomy 5:26; 1
Samuel 17:26, 36; Jeremiah 23:36]. Thus, God is “living” in contrast to the
worthless idols that can do nothing for themselves or others [Isaiah 44:9–
20]. So, although there is insufficient evidence to conclude that Darius
truly believed in Yahweh alone, his words indicate that he had at least
come to a point of esteeming God through Daniel’s life and witness.
Theodoret [5th century Bishop of Cyr] says: “Each of these phrases shows
the religious spirit of the king, who complimented Daniel on his piety:
first, he calls him not his own servant but God’s; next, he calls Daniel’s
God ‘living’; then, in praise of his piety, ‘whom you serve with constancy,’
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that is, you were not prevented from worship under pressure of the law.
The question ‘Was he able to rescue you from the lions’ mouth?’ means,
‘Was it his will to render you impervious against the lions?’ After all, he
would not have referred to God as powerless after calling him living.”
Jerome [4th century] likewise says: “By his tears he showed his inner
emotion, and forgetting his royal dignity, the conqueror ran to his captive,
the master to his servant.”
Next in vv. 21–23, we read: “Daniel replied to the king, ‘May your
majesty live forever! My God sent his angel and sealed the mouths of the
lions. They have not harmed me, proving that I’m innocent before him.
Also against you, your majesty, I’ve committed no offense.’ The king was
ecstatic, so he gave orders for Daniel to be released from the pit. Daniel
was taken up from the pit, and no injury was found to have been inflicted
on him, because he had believed in his God.”
Daniel’s calmness in the situation is reflected in his reply with the standard
greeting of respect for royalty, “may your majesty live forever” [recall
Daniel 2:4; 3:9; 5:10; 6:6]. Then he added that God had “sent his angel” to
protect him during the night. The Aramaic malʾăḵēh [for “his angel”],
suggests that it was the same ordinary angel one who protected the three
youths in the furnace [recall Daniel 3:25, 28]. Daniel also explained to the
king that his survival was nothing less than a divine declaration of his
innocence, because ironically Daniel’s name meant “God is my judge,”
and his deliverance from the pit was his vindication. In other words, it is
not that Daniel was sinless, but innocent of the trumped–up charges
against him, especially any insinuation that he had insolently paid no
attention to the king’s orders [v. 13]. That the king was “ecstatic” upon
discovering Daniel’s safety further underscores his high esteem for Daniel.
After being lifted from the lion’s den through an opening at the top, there
was “no injury” found on him. Such a status was prima facie evidence of
God’s supernatural working. Darius [and all others] had encountered a
miracle, and this may have drawn him closer to personal faith in Yahweh.
Then the end of v. 23 adds the reason for this miracle: Daniel “had
believed in his God.” This reflects back to the moment that Daniel made a
conscious decision to continue his practice of prayer [v. 10], not just the
time when he was placed in the lion’s den.

At a crisis moment in his life, he decided to remain faithful to the God who
rewarded him with a miraculous deliverance, as summarized in Hebrews,
that “through faith” Daniel “shut the mouths of lions” [Hebrews 11:33].
Finally in v. 24, we read: “Then the king gave orders to bring those men
who had tried to have Daniel devoured, and they threw them, their
children, and their wives into the lions’ pit. They had not reached the floor
of the pit before the lions had overtaken them and crushed all their bones.”
Darius knew what Daniel’s antagonists had done and how they had
attempted to dupe the king himself in the process. Thus, he called for them
to be brought forth and thrown to the lions. We should not think that every
supervisor and satrap of the kingdom was punished. Daniel says that only
“those men who had tried to have Daniel devoured” were punished. In
fact, the LXXΟ attempts to soften the implication by limiting the revenge
to hoi duo anthrōpoi ekeinoi [or “those two men”]. Nevertheless, more
startling is the inclusion of the children and wives in the punishment
[Numbers 16:23–33; 2 Chronicles 21:12–15]. However, we should not
conclude that God commended such stern action in this case. Instead, this
was Darius’ choice and a reflection of Persian custom. In fact, Herodotus
tells an account of how Intaphernes and his family were subjected to a
similar fate by the Persian King Darius [not the same Darius in Daniel 6]:
“They showed themselves to the king and told him why they had been
treated so. Darius, fearing that the six had done this by common consent,
sent for each and asked his opinion, whether they approved what had been
done; and being assured that they had no part in it, he seized Intaphrenes
with his sons and all his household—for he strongly suspected that the
man was plotting a rebellion with his kinsmen—and imprisoned them with
the intention of putting them to death. Then Intaphrenes’ wife began
coming to the palace gates, weeping and lamenting; and by continuing to
do this same thing she persuaded Darius to pity her; and he sent a
messenger to tell her, ‘Woman, King Darius will allow one of your
imprisoned relatives to survive, whomever you prefer of them all.’ After
considering she answered, ‘If indeed the king gives me the life of one, I
chose from them all my brother.’ Darius was astonished when he heard
her answer, and sent someone who asked her: ‘Woman, the king asks you
with what in mind you abandon your husband and your children and
choose to save the life of your brother, who is less close to you than your
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children and less dear than your husband?’ ‘O King,’ she answered, ‘I
may have another husband, if a god is willing, and other children, if I lose
these; but since my father and mother are no longer living, there is no way
that I can have another brother; I said what I did with that in mind.’
Darius thought that the woman answered well, and for her sake he
released the one for whom she had asked, and the eldest of her sons as
well; he put to death all the rest.” [Hist. 3.119]
So, the way in which the lions ferociously attacked the bodies of Daniel’s
accusers is not recorded for the sake of shock, but to once again
demonstrate the miraculous nature of what happened. These were hungry
lions, and Daniel’s survival underscores God’s miraculous intervention.
Aphrahat [4th century] beautifully says: “Daniel was persecuted as Jesus
was persecuted. Daniel was cast into the pit of lions, and he was delivered
and came up out of its midst uninjured; and Jesus was sent down into the
pit of the abode of the dead, and he ascended, and death had not dominion
over him. Concerning Daniel they expected that when he had fallen into
the pit he would not come up again; and concerning Jesus they said,
‘Since he has fallen, he shall not rise again’ [Psalm 41:8]. From harming
Daniel the mouths of the ravenous and destructive lions were closed; and
from harming Jesus was closed the mouth of death, though ravenous and
destructive of living forms. They sealed the pit of Daniel and guarded it
with diligence; and they guarded the grave of Jesus with diligence, as they
said, ‘Set guards to watch at the tomb’ [Matthew 27:64]. When Daniel
came up, his accusers were ashamed; and when Jesus rose, all they who
had crucified him were ashamed.”
5) Why did Darius [Cyaxares II] affirm God’s sovereignty? (6:25–28)
Starting with vv. 25–27, we read: “Afterward, King Darius wrote to all
people, nations, and languages who lived throughout his realm: ‘May
great prosperity be yours! I hereby decree that in every area of my
kingdom men are to fear and tremble before the God of Daniel. For he is
the living God, who endures forever. His kingdom is one that will not be
destroyed, and his dominion continues forever. He delivers and rescues
and performs signs and wonders in heaven and on earth. He has delivered
Daniel from the power of the lions.’”

Although critical scholars are sceptical of the historicity of this account, if
Darius the Mede was Cyaxares II, then he could have espoused this royal
decree. Notice that its introduction was a stereotypical way for a king to
initiate a royal decree, because most of the wording in v. 25 is identical to
the introduction in Nebuchadnezzar’s decree [recall Daniel 4:1]. The
reverence and fear to be accorded Daniel’s God is similar to the esteem
given to Nebuchadnezzar himself [recall Daniel 5:19]. However, the
reasons are different here. In other words, it is because “he is the living
God, who endures forever” and Darius adds that this reverence and fear of
Daniel’s God is also because “his kingdom is one that will not be
destroyed, and his dominion continues forever.” Thus, the issue of God’s
kingdom is a prominent topic in Daniel’s book. For example, God had
revealed to Nebuchadnezzar that a series of earthly kingdoms [beginning
with Babylon] would come and go, but “the God of heaven will set up a
kingdom that will never be destroyed, nor its sovereignty left in the hands
of another people. It will shatter and crush all of these kingdoms, and it
will stand forever” [recall Daniel 2:44]. Thus, God’s kingdom is the goal
of history, because the Aramaic lāʾ ṯiṯḥabbal [for “not be destroyed”] is
precisely the same in both passages! Nebuchadnezzar even came to a point
of confessing that “his kingdom is an eternal kingdom, and his dominion
lasts from generation to generation,” which are terms strikingly similar to
those by Darius in v. 26. Thus, although the emphasis of Daniel 6 has not
been about God’s kingdom, apparently Darius had learned something
about this from Daniel’s miraculous rescue from the pit. Notice that
following Darius’ confession about God’s kingdom and authority in v. 26,
he refers to God’s signs and wonders in v. 27, particularly Daniel’s rescue.
Knowing that God had humbled Nebuchadnezzar to bring him to the point
of professing God’s kingdom, Darius also wisely professed this kingdom.
Jerome [4th century] nails it: “The reason why signs are performed amid
barbarian peoples through the agency of God’s servants is that the
worship and religion of the only God may be proclaimed.”
Finally in v. 28, we read: “Daniel achieved success during the reigns of
Darius and Cyrus the Persian.”
The Aramaic haṣlaḥ [for “success”] means political success in this context
[recall Daniel 3:30]. Darius had already promoted Daniel to being one of
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the three chief ministers [or commissioners] to which the 120 satraps
reported and was being considered for appointment “over the whole
kingdom” [vv. 1–3]. Thus, v. 28 assures us that Daniel, a man at least in
his 80s by that time, continued to enjoy political success in the new
administration established by the Medes and Persians following the
overthrow of Babylon. In fact, he lived to see the 3rd year of Cyrus in
536/535 b.c. [later in Daniel 10:1]. It is ironic that Belshazzar had offered
political advancement to Daniel in return for interpreting the writing
[recall Daniel 5:16], because Daniel had turned down that reward, since he
could not accept a reward from someone who had so insulted the honour
and glory of God, but here God nevertheless gave Daniel an extremely
high political position after Belshazzar was slain!
Summing Up …
Daniel 6 completes the narrative section, having thoroughly introduced the
setting, visions, interpretations, and prayers for Daniel 7–12. We have
been taught to understand the exile historically, theologically, and
imaginatively, and we have learned that the exile will not end quickly
[recall Daniel 1:1–2, 21; 2:24–45; 6:28]. Thus, exiles must learn to trust
God [recall Daniel 1:8–16; 2:17–19; 3:16–18; 6:16–23] amid personal and
community peril [recall Daniel 1:8–16; 2:13–19; 3:8–23; 6:10–23]. They
must learn wisdom [recall Daniel 1:8–16; 2:13–16; 4:19–27; 5:13–28;
6:21–22] through devotion [recall Daniel 1:8–16; 2:17–19; 3:16–18; 6:10–
11], divine enablement [recall Daniel 1:9, 17; 2:19; 3:24–25; 4:8, 18, 19–
27; 5:13–28; 6:3] and to praise the God who rules, protects, and saves
[recall Daniel 1:1–2; 2:20–23; 3:26–29; 4:1–3, 34–37; 6:25–27]. Their
witness will have a positive impact on some people outside their faith
[recall Daniel 2:46–49; 3:26–29; 4:1–3, 34–37; 6:25–27], but not on others
[recall Daniel 3:8–12; 5:1–30; 6:3–9]. Regardless, all peoples are welcome
into God’s kingdom, because the future belongs to God and to those who
trust him [recall Daniel 2:24–45; 6:25–27]. Thus, visions that stagger the
minds of their recipients indicate God’s sovereignty, because they show
his power to use symbols to open the minds of people focused on this
world in wrong ways [recall Daniel 2:1–45; 4:4–33; 5:1–12]. The faithful
life has dangers, but it is worth living [recall Daniel 3:16–19]. God’s
kingdom is rising [recall Daniel 2:44], however hard world leaders try to
make themselves the centre of the universe [recall Daniel 4:30].

DANIEL’S VISIONS
Daniel 7
Opening Thought
1) The arrival of our new millennium sparked unusual interest in spiritual
matters and in questions about the future. What strange ideas, beliefs, and
practices have you observed as people discuss the future?
Background of the Passage
Daniel will now reveal the prophetic course of Gentile dominion on the
earth. In fact, it is now that God revealed his purposes directly to Daniel
rather than through a pagan king. However, the symbolism in Daniel’s
dream differs from the imagery in Nebuchadnezzar’s dream. In other
words, whereas Nebuchadnezzar saw a giant image or statue, with various
parts that represented a series of world empires, Daniel saw a collection of
beasts and creatures. His dream moved far beyond his own day to the
coming of Israel’s Messiah/King to end all Gentile kingdoms and to
establish his eternal kingdom. Thus, Daniel 7 is significant because:
1. It shows God’s sovereignty over earthly affairs and human history.
2. It provides a clear glimpse of the prophetic future.
3. It shows the veracity of God’s word in the prophecies fulfilled.
4. It gives believers a wonderful role model in the person of Daniel,
who lived a life of faithfulness and devotion.
Bible Passage
Read Daniel 7
The Vision of the Four Beasts
1 The Vision of the Son of Man
In the first year of the reign of King Belshazzar of Babylon, Daniel
dreamed a dream, receiving visions in his mind while in bed, after which
he recorded the dream, relating this summary of events. 2Daniel said, “I
observed the vision during the night. Look! The four winds of the skies
were stirring up the Mediterranean Sea. 3Four magnificent animals were
rising from the sea, each different from the other. 4The first resembled a
lion, but it had eagles’ wings. I continued to watch until its wings were
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plucked off, it was lifted up off the ground, and it was forced to stand on
two feet like a man. A human soul was imparted to it. 5Then look!—a
second animal resembling a bear followed it. It was raised up on one side,
with three ribs held between the teeth in its mouth. Therefore people kept
telling it, ‘Get up and devour lots of meat!’ 6After this, I continued to
watch—and look!—there was another one, resembling a leopard with four
birds’ wings on its back. The animal also had four heads, and authority
was imparted to it. 7After this, I continued to observe the night visions.
And look!—there was a fourth awe–inspiring, terrifying, and viciously
strong animal! It had large, iron teeth. It devoured and crushed things, and
trampled under its feet whatever remained. Different from all of the other
previous animals, it had ten horns. 8While I was thinking about the
horns—look—another horn, this time a little one, grew up among them.
Three of the first horns were yanked up by their roots right in front of it.
Look! It had eyes like those of a human being and a mouth that boasted
with audacious claims.”
The Vision of the Ancient of Days
9
“I kept on watching until the Ancient of Days was seated. His clothes
were white, like snow, and the hair on his head was like pure wool. His
throne burned with flaming fire, and its wheels burned with fire. 10A river
of fire flowed out from before him. Thousands upon thousands were
serving him, with millions upon millions waiting before him. The court sat
in judgment, and record books were unsealed. 11I continued watching
because of the audacious words that the horn was speaking. I kept
observing until the animal was killed and its body destroyed and given
over to burning fire. 12Now as to the other animals, their authority was
removed, but they were granted a reprieve from execution for an appointed
period of time.”
13
“I continued to observe the night vision—and look!—someone like
the Son of Man was coming, accompanied by heavenly clouds. He
approached the Ancient of Days and was presented before him. 14To him
dominion was bestowed, along with glory and a kingdom, so that all
people, nations, and languages are to serve him. His dominion is an
everlasting dominion—it will never pass away—and his kingdom is one
that will never be destroyed.”
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The Vision Interpreted First, an extensive preliminary overview of primeval history is required to
15
“Now as for me, Daniel, I was emotionally troubled, and what I had fully appreciate the context of this passage, because this is the final chapter
seen in the visions kept alarming me. 16So I approached one of those who written in Aramaic while also being a vital hinge to Daniel’s book:
was standing nearby and began to ask the meaning of all of this. He spoke
to me and caused me to understand the interpretation of these things. 17He
said, ‘These four great animals are four kings who will rise to power from
the earth. 18But the saints of the Highest will receive the kingdom forever,
inheriting it forever and ever.’ 19I wanted to learn the precise significance
of the fourth animal that was different from all the others, extremely awe–
inspiring, with iron teeth and bronze claws, and that had devoured and
crushed things, trampling under its feet whatever remained. 20Also, I
wanted to learn the significance of the ten horns on its head and the other
horn that had arisen, before which three of them had fallen—that is, the
horn with eyes and a mouth that uttered magnificent things and which was
greater in appearance than its fellows. 21As I continued to watch, that same
horn waged war against the saints, and was prevailing against them 22until
the Ancient of Days arrived to pass judgment in favour of the saints of the So, although it forms a literary unit with Daniel 2–6, at the same time it
Highest One and the time came for the saints to take possession of the has a vital link to Daniel 8–12, being the first of four visions given directly
kingdom. 23So he said: ‘The fourth animal will be a fourth kingdom on the to Daniel. Furthermore, it appears to be chronologically disordered [since
earth, different from all the kingdoms. It will devour the entire earth, it reverts to the 1st year of Belshazzar], but this can be explained by
trampling it down and crushing it. 24Now as to the ten horns, ten kings will Daniel’s purpose of grouping his four visions. In other words, the 1st vision
rise to power from this kingdom, and another king will rise to power after was given in the 1st year of Belshazzar, and hence it is placed first in the
them. He will be different from the previous kings, and will defeat three sequence. Here is a summary chart explaining the chronological confusion:
kings. 25He’ll speak out against the Most High and wear down the saints of
the Highest One. He’ll attempt to alter times and laws, and they’ll be given Daniel 7 Daniel 8 Daniel 9 Daniel 10–12
into his control for a time, times, and half a time. 26Nevertheless, the court 1st vision 2nd vision 3rd vision 4th vision
will convene, and his authority will be removed, annulled, and destroyed 1st year of 3rd year of 1st year of 3rd year of
forever. 27Then the kingdom, authority, and magnificence of all nations of Belshazzar Belshazzar Darius Cyrus
the earth will be given to the people who are the saints of the Highest One. 553 b.c. 550 b.c. 539–538 b.c. 536–535 b.c.
His kingdom will endure forever, and all authorities will serve him and
obey him.’ 28At this point the vision ended. As for me, Daniel, my Thus, since Daniel 7 is a hinge chapter, this is why Daniel 2–6 is carefully
thoughts continued to alarm me, and I lost my natural colour, but I kept arranged in a concentric structure so that Daniel 7 parallels Daniel 2, and
quiet about the matter.” the similarities between these two chapters are rather obvious:

Understanding the Text 1. Both portray a sweep of successive Gentile powers in four stages.
2) What was Daniel’s vision of the four beasts? (7:1–8) 2. Both culminate in kingdoms being replaced by God’s kingdom.
3. Both elaborate more on the 4th kingdom than the first three.

However, in spite of these parallels, there is a key difference of perspective
between these chapters: the vision of Daniel 2 was seen by a pagan king,
which portrayed history from a human point of view [where each empire
had at least some intrinsic value], but the vision of Daniel 7 was from
God’s point of view, revealing the nations of history as they really are
inwardly. In other words, God sees them as wild ferocious beasts,
continually fighting and devouring one another. Furthermore, as was the
case in Daniel 2, the main focus of Daniel 7 falls on the 4th kingdom in the
series, but Daniel 7 adds crucial details in regard to the 4th kingdom not
found in Daniel 2. For example, Daniel 7 provides revelation about the
“little” horn that arises out of the 4th kingdom and his persecution of God’s
saints. Furthermore, although both Daniel 2 and Daniel 7 portray the series
of kingdoms being ultimately replaced by God’s kingdom, it is Daniel 7
that provides explicit revelation about the “Son of Man” who receives the
kingdom. Thus, Daniel 7 becomes the springboard to show how God’s
kingdom will be implemented through the intercession of the “Son of
Man,” the ultimate victory over the final earthly opponent to God’s rule
[the “little” horn], and the righteous saints resurrected and rewarded in
God’s kingdom. Furthermore, although most scholars agree that the vision
of beasts in Daniel 7 was intended to portray successive kingdoms, they
nevertheless differ on the identification of the kingdoms in view. In fact,
one minority view holds that Daniel 7 is not parallel to Daniel 2 because
the four beasts of Daniel 7 represent contemporaneous powers operative at
the time of Antiochus IV Epiphanes. In other words, the lion represents
Egypt, the bear represents Persia, the leopard represents Rome, and the
anonymous beast represents Syria [under the imagery of a trampling war
elephant commonly utilized by Syria]. Nevertheless, most critical scholars
view the four beasts as Babylon, Media, Persia, and Greece, with the
“little” horn representing Antiochus IV Epiphanes [but some view it as
representing Ptolemy I Soter in 323–282 b.c., only if Daniel 7 functioned
as a symbolic history of Judean events in the early Hellenistic period].
John Goldingay [21st century biblical scholar] adopted this position:
“While Daniel 7 presents itself as a dream experienced by Daniel in about
550 BC, the beginning of the co–regency of Nabonidus and Belshazzar,
its formal characteristics suggest that it derives from the period on which
it focuses and to which it is especially relevant, the time of the king
symbolized by the small horn. It presupposes actions by Antiochus IV
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against Jerusalem such as 1 Maccabees 1:29–40 describes, but it does not
refer to the introduction of offensive forms of worship in the temple
(contrast Daniel 8:13; 9:27; 11:31), and it implies that Jewish deliverance
is still future. Thus, its date is mid–167 BC.”
However, a major problem for critical scholars who attempt to interpret
Daniel 7 in light of Antiochus IV Epiphanes and the Maccabean uprising is
that Antiochus’ defeat did not result in a realization of God’s kingdom!
Thus, critical scholars must confess that these statements were mistakes!
John Goldingay [21st century biblical scholar] continues: “How does
imagination operate, how is revelation mediated? The dream’s content
hints that it operates through earlier scriptures, through the acts of God
they reflect, through other traditions and imagery that the visionary is
familiar with, and through the kind of experiences previous chapters have
described. The point is clearer when we look at the dream in its 2nd
century context, which implies that the dream is in part the fruit of
reflection on events from the 6th to the 2nd centuries. This history has
become a means of revelation cast in the form of prophecy. Empire after
empire has risen and fallen. If Antiochus rises higher, it will mean he falls
harder. History did not have to be read that way. The 2nd century crisis
was unprecedented, and imagination and faith had to undertake a
quantum leap in order to express what the vision declares. History
becomes revelatory when it is viewed in light of the tradition of what God
has said and done in the past and in light of the word he is speaking now,
both being suggestive of God’s promise about history which hope is
invited to grasp despite the extent to which it contrasts with present
experience. It looks in the face the realities of history since the Babylonian
period and the darker realities of the 2nd century, but insists on also gazing
steadily at how the future must be, given who God is. In this sense, the
vision’s perspective is the gift of revelation received by faith, which
accepts the risk of its being the fruit of fantasy received in wishful
thinking. The outrages of the present make it morally necessary for there
to be judgment and reversal in the future: otherwise everything that people
know about God and about Israel’s relationship to him is put in question.
A crisis can deepen faith in the power of God rather than destroying it.
Earlier on, Judahites could hold out under the pressures of living under
the Babylonians or the Persians or the Greeks. They could see (or

envisage) God acting and making it possible for them to survive and even
to triumph. They could believe that God’s sovereignty could be working
through the sovereignty of gentile monarchs. The pressures of living under
Antiochus were of a different order. The enormity of his acts made it
impossible to believe that God’s sovereignty was working through him. It
required another understanding of the relationship between human
sovereignty and divine sovereignty. The former would need to be replaced
by the latter rather than being the means of implementing the latter.”
Nevertheless, conservative scholars argue that the beasts represent
Babylon, Medo–Persia, Greece, and Rome, with the “little” horn
representing the future antichrist. But, a minority view argues that the four
kingdoms are Babylon, Media, Medo–Persia, and Greece, because Media
is contemporaneous with the Babylonian Empire.
John Walton [21st century ancient Near Eastern scholar] holds this view:
“The 10 horns of the 4th empire would be the 10 independent states that
had arisen from Alexander’s empire by the last quarter of the 3rd century
BC. The little horn would represent the Seleucid overlords of Palestine,
dating from the reign of Antiochus the Great and continuing during the
time of Antiochus Epiphanes. The three displaced horns would represent
the conquests of Antiochus the Great.”
However, this minority view also faces problems, because the ram and
goat [later in Daniel 8], with the horn of the goat replaced by four horns,
are parallel to the 2nd and 3rd creatures of Daniel 7, and the ram is one
entity: “the kings of Media and Persia” [later in Daniel 8:20].
Furthermore, the 10 horns as independent states do not satisfy Daniel’s
interpretation of them as “ten kings” [later in v. 24; Revelation 17:12].
Nevertheless, there are still other conservatives that prefer to refrain from
identifying them with any specific kingdoms.
Tremper Longman [21st century ancient Near Eastern scholar] argues this:
“The best way to view the imagery of Daniel 7 is not in terms of four
specific evil empires, but as four kingdoms symbolically representing the
fact that evil kingdoms (of an unspecified number) will succeed one
another from the time of the exile to the time of the climax of history, when
God will intervene, judge all evil, and bring into existence his kingdom.”
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However, Longman’s view is unconvincing, since the parallel account in
Daniel 2 clearly indicates a linear progression of Babylon and successive
kingdoms, which is also indicated by Daniel here [later in vv. 15, 23].
Furthermore, Daniel will build on the vision by identifying two of these
kingdoms [later in Daniel 8:20–22]. Furthermore, scholars have made
extensive headway in attributing the symbolic imagery of Daniel 7 as
supposedly borrowing from the mythological literature of the ancient Near
East, specifically to be found either in the 7th century b.c. Mesopotamian
work Vision of the Underworld, or the Babylonian creation myth Enuma
Elish, or the Canaanite myths within 14th century b.c. Ugaritic texts.
Wendy Widder [21st century biblical scholar] says: “In a mythic battle
Marduk, the head of the Babylonian pantheon, defeated Tiamat (‘the Sea’)
and an army of ghoulish troops she had mustered against Marduk and the
other gods because Marduk’s father, Ea (the god of wisdom), had killed
her consort, Apsu, when he conspired to do away with their noisy
offspring. Tiamat herself had protested Apsu’s plan, but not hard enough
to dissuade him. In preparation for battle, Tiamat gave her new consort,
Qingu, the tablet of destinies, which bestowed on its possessor the right to
rule the world. Marduk faced off against Tiamat, wielding a net made of
the four winds, and with it he captured her and then trampled and split her
in two before seizing the tablet for himself. But even though Marduk had
defeated Tiamat and her forces, the chaotic sea remained a threat. To
protect the world against a return to primordial chaos, Lord Marduk
established boundaries to hold back the watery threat. Tiamat’s throng of
monsters thundered through Babylonian mythology, but plenty of animals
in real life generated anxiety for ancient Mesopotamians, who believed
that the birth of an abnormal animal signalled a message from the gods—
and not always a good one. Malformations, missing or misplaced body
parts, and extra body parts were all considered omens. Good omens could
mean something like prosperity or the death of an enemy king, while bad
omens might portend famine, rebellion, or betrayal. Priests divined such
omens using long–established interpretative traditions, such as the
Shumma izbu collection of texts, a set of 24 tablets detailing abnormalities
and their corresponding significance. For example, ‘if a ewe gives birth to
a lion and it has two horns on the right—the prince will take the land of
his enemy,’ but ‘if a ram has only one horn inserted into his forehead like
a peg—its owner will be killed by force.’ An array of animals is also

present in an oracle against Israel spoken by the prophet Hosea, and
although not malformed, they signalled disaster for Hosea’s audience in
the 8th century BC. Through Hosea, God decried the fact that although he
had brought his people out of Egypt and cared for them in the desert, they
became proud and forgot him. For this, he would fight against them,
coming like a lion, lurking like a leopard, attacking like a bear. He would
tear them apart like a wild beast (Hosea 13:7–8). The one who had
shepherded them would destroy them. About 150 years later, Ezekiel was
terrified by a different kind of encounter with God. The prophet–priest was
among the exiles living in Babylon when he had a heart–stopping vision
that left him stunned for a full week (Ezekiel 1; 3:15). He watched a
windstorm blow in on a fiery cloud, and in the middle of the fire was a
quartet of strange creatures that were human–like and yet very unhuman–
like. They had straight legs like men with calves’ feet. They had human
hands tucked under four wings. They had human faces with three other
faces: those of a lion, an ox, and an eagle. Fire sparked between these
strange creatures and the creatures themselves flashed about like
lightning. Next to them were fiery wheels in wheels, all moving in tandem
with the four creatures. What all this fire and motion amounted to was a
mobile throne for Yahweh, who appeared as another human–like figure at
the center of it all, glowing like metal and blinding everything in his
vicinity. The four fiery creatures themselves formed a council of divine
beings around the supreme God. The descriptive details aren’t identical,
but it is not hard to imagine Psalm 97 in light of Ezekiel’s vision: ‘The
Lord reigns! Clouds and thick darkness surround him; righteousness and
justice are the foundation of his throne. Fire goes before him and
consumes his foes on every side. His lightning lights up the world; the
earth sees and trembles. The mountains melt like wax before the Lord,
before the Lord of all the earth. The heavens proclaim his righteousness,
and all the people see his glory’ (vv. 1–6). Other poetic passages in the
Old Testament portray Yahweh from atop the clouds instead of a fiery
throne. In Psalms 68:4 and Psalm 104:3 the psalmists extol the one who
rides a cloud chariot through his creative domain. In Isaiah 19:1 Yahweh
rides a swift cloud in judgment against Egypt, and similarly, in Nahum the
prophet declares that the guilty will not go unpunished because Yahweh
comes ‘in the whirlwind and the storm, and the clouds are the dust of his
feet’ (Nahum 1:3). Such imagery is known elsewhere in the ancient Near
East, notably in Canaanite depictions of Baal, the Rider of the Clouds.
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As the storm god, Baal controlled weather and thus agricultural fertility.
Armed with lightning, he ruled the skies and distributed rain on faithful
worshipers. In the mythology of 15th century Ugarit, a city–state on the
Syrian coast north of Israel, Baal was the divine hero who had fought
against the sea, Yam, when attempting to become head of the pantheon.
Baal was victorious and won kingship among the gods—a kingship subject
to that of the high god, El, an aged wise figure who acted as judge over the
divine council. These texts provide background for Daniel 7.”
However, there is no need to go to such extreme speculation [especially
when verification is virtually impossible], given that symbolic dreams are
not unusual in the Old Testament, like Joseph’s dreams [Genesis 37].
John Goldingay [21st century biblical scholar] responds and cautions:
“Over the past century scholars have studied parallels between Daniel 7
and material from Egypt, Phoenicia, Iran, Babylon, and Canaan. Egyptian
influence has been seen in the parallels between the relationship of Atum
and Re with that of the one advanced in years and the humanlike figure in
Daniel 7 and in the portrait of Antiochus as foe of godly order, but the
evidence is hardly compelling. Nor is Morgenstern’s hypothesis of the
influence of an equivalent Tyrian myth, which even he later abandoned.
Nor is the more common belief that there is a connection between Daniel’s
humanlike figure and Iranian figures who are the embodiment of
humanity, who form one root of Near Eastern kingship ideology and thus
relate to Old Testament ideas of humanity. Daniel’s allusive reference to a
humanlike figure hardly justifies or requires such connections, and neither
do parallels such as the stream of fire; it is in any case a problem that the
Persian material is difficult to date, and parallels are rarely specific to
Persia. The fourfold historical scheme (Daniel 2) is the most plausible
instance of Iranian influence on Daniel 7. Parallels between the
Babylonian Adapa myth and the humanlike figure are again not
compelling; nor are the incidental parallels between Daniel 7 and an
Akkadian dream–vision about hybrid beings. When the Babylonian myth
Enuma Elish tells of rebellious monsters born from the primordial ocean,
of the destruction of the sea monster, the embodiment of disorder, who is
burst by the winds, and of the elevation of its destroyer as king and lord of
heaven and earth, the points of connection with Daniel 7 look more than
coincidental. They are paralleled in the equivalent Ugaritic combat myth

Baal, which has more links with Daniel 7 and may be the less indirect
background to it. Here, similarly, Sea tries to usurp the place of Baal, the
son of the highest god, the venerable, gray–headed, and gray–bearded El.
One of his titles, ’b snm, might mean ‘father of years’ and correspond to
‘one advanced in days.’ Before the assembly of the holy ones, Baal, rider
on the clouds, is declared to be destined for an eternal kingship, and he
duly kills Sea (Yam)—later characterized as Leviathan, the seven–headed
dragon. In due course El agrees to a temple being built as a palace for
Baal, where he takes his seat as king over the earth. He is then overcome
by Death (Mot), but Death is eventually defeated. In the Old Testament,
Yahweh effectively combines the positions of El and Baal, except in
Daniel 7, where the humanlike figure takes Baal’s position. In
recapitulating this old pattern, Daniel 7 may have its own links with these
ancient myths, via learned circles in Judaism rather than because they
lived on in the worship of the temple. The animals in Daniel 7 have been
likened to Babylonian engravings, sculptures, and reliefs or to the
sphinxes, but the parallels are not close. The same applies to warnings in
treaties of attacks by animals; though in any case these documents would
surely have influenced Daniel only via passages such as Hosea 13:7–8.
Parallels with the animals in the zodiac are also imprecise.
Mesopotamian divination offers more promising background to vv. 4–6.
Divination was interested in anomalous human and animal births that
might offer portents concerning the future of individuals or the state. The
series Šumma izbu includes sheep born with some resemblance to a wolf, a
lion, a fox, a tiger, or a human being, and animals with deformations such
as a raised shoulder, lungs in its mouth, extra horns, multiple heads, or
displaced eyes. These portend events such as a royal death, an enemy
attack, conflict among rulers, or a king enjoying a long and peaceful
reign. Not all details in the omens are interpreted, and not all details in the
interpretations connect with specific aspects of the omen. Also interesting
is the custom of describing a king as having characteristics of various
animals. In the Hellenistic period, on his coins Alexander wears a
headpiece much like an elephant head, Antiochus III uses the elephant as a
state emblem, and Hellenistic monarchs generally are often pictured as
possessing horns, a common Semitic symbol for power: all this may lie
behind the figure of the 4th animal. It is possible to link characteristics of
individual creatures to those of empires they represent: for instance, the
Medes might be seen as fierce and destructive (v. 5; Isaiah 13:17–18),
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though it is not clear that they were more so than others. The notion of a
succession of world empires appears in Herodotus and Ctesias, and this
feature arguably has more substantial parallels with the substance of the
four–empire scheme in Daniel than the links in terms of symbolism that
Daniel has in common with Middle Eastern material. The scheme sees
the sequence of empires as Assyria, Media, Persia, and Greece, and in
distinguishing between Media and Persia it corresponds to Daniel’s
scheme. Tracing the development of ideas and motifs in a text does not in
itself explain their significance there, but it can add to our historical
insight on the development of Israelite faith and thought, enable us to
perceive more of the meaning and resonances that ideas and motifs had
for author and audience, and explain tensions or other apparent
problems in the text. Thus, it is illuminating to imagine the author of
Daniel 7 combining the combat myth as adopted in the Old Testament and
as known in the learned tradition with the four–regimes scheme and the
form of the dream from Daniel 2 and developing these in light of 2nd
century experience into a portrayal of Antiochus as the doomed
embodiment of disorder and rebellion. Yet such pictures are hypothetical,
and it remains difficult to evaluate the significance of parallels identified
in connection with tracing the tradition–history behind Daniel 7. When the
evidence cannot prove a direct link, this shortfall does not mean there was
no link. In other cases, the parallels are close enough to make a direct link
seem likely, but coincidence is not impossible. Even where there are
historical links, it is difficult to know how far the author was aware of the
material’s original meaning or was influenced by it: we must beware of
reading into Daniel too much of what went before or what came after.
Even when the author was aware of the material’s background, the picture
as a whole is not one received from existent sources; it is creative,
imaginative, and original. Further, the significance of motifs in Daniel 7 is
their significance in its context, which may even contradict the
significance they brought to it. Investigating the background to the chapter
may chiefly help to draw attention to what is different about Daniel 7
itself; this process may enable us to perceive important aspects of the
chapter even if the hypotheses that lead to these perceptions turn out to be
mistaken. Thus, the framework of intertextuality may contribute more than
the framework of background and development to the utilization of
comparisons. The intertextual relationship between Daniel and the Middle
Eastern texts is the kind of relationship that issues from readers putting

texts together that may have had no direct link rather than the kind that
issued from one author directly relating to the work of another. For us as
readers, putting the texts alongside each other helps us to see the
significance of the texts. Thus, in Enuma Elish, the winds restrain the sea
and its monsters; here they churn it up and generate the sea monsters. In
Ezekiel 1 the animals support God’s throne and serve his kingship; here
they serve themselves and are judged. In Psalm 2 the one enthroned is an
actual king, whose people are unmentioned; here the bestowing of God’s
rule is projected onto the future, and the one on whom it is bestowed
explicitly represents a people; the dethronement of evil belongs not to the
beginning or to ever–repeated events in history but to the End.
Nevertheless, the sea and the animals stand here not for otherworldly
cosmic or cosmogonic forces of disorder but for historical ones; yet the
animals stand not for forces ruling through all history, as in 1 Enoch, but
only for the rulers of the 2nd Temple period. Whereas Marduk fought and
killed the beasts, as does the humanlike figure in 2 Esdras, here there is no
battle—all is determined by the word of God; the difference compares with
that between Genesis 1 and earlier myths. The humanlike figure has no
explicit connection with creation, nor does he undergo suffering, or
enter into conflict with the senior figure, or die, as Baal is commonly
held to have done. Despite the presence of the temple theme in Enuma
Elish, it is striking that Daniel 7 makes no mention of the temple.”
Eugene Carpenter [21st century biblical scholar] likewise concludes: “The
overall ambience of the imagery in this chapter is best considered as
arising from the imagery of the Old Testament, although a polemical note
is sounded here, for Daniel’s God overcomes, controls, and destroys the
beasts produced by the great sea (Tiamat) and the winds that created
them. The implication for the origin of Daniel 7 is that the images likely
arose from a Jew in the eastern dispersion of Mesopotamia (COS
2.122A:309), rather than in the Hellenistic culture of Palestine.
Whatever extra–biblical sources may have been drawn on was made to
serve the purposes of the author. The Mischwesen (composite beings in art
and architecture and misshapen births depicted in the Summa Izbu omen
texts) present another ancient parallel to the images in Daniel 7. Through
this powerful culturally relevant imagery of the ancient Near East, God
communicated through Daniel, tying his new revelation to the unfolding
revelation of the Old Testament.”
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Starting with vv. 1–3, we read: “In the first year of the reign of King
Belshazzar of Babylon, Daniel dreamed a dream, receiving visions in his
mind while in bed, after which he recorded the dream, relating this
summary of events. Daniel said, ‘I observed the vision during the night.
The four winds of the skies were stirring up the Mediterranean Sea, and
four magnificent animals rose from the sea, each different from the other.”
The vision given to Daniel is dated to the 1st year of King Belshazzar.
Although Belshazzar’s historicity was questioned by earlier scholars, the
discovery of documents about Nabonidus has confirmed that Belshazzar
was his first–born son [recall Daniel 5:1]. Furthermore, the so–called
Verse Account of Nabonidus [first made available in 1924] provided firm
evidence that Nabonidus appointed Belshazzar as his co–regent: “when the
3rd year was about to begin—he [Nabonidus] entrusted the ‘Camp’ to his
oldest son, the first–born [Belshazzar], the troops everywhere in the
country he ordered under his command. He let everything go, entrusted
the kingship to him and, himself, he started out for a long journey.”
Thus, since Nabonidus began to rule in 556 b.c., his 3rd year was 553 b.c.,
which was also the 1st year of Belshazzar’s reign, and God chose the outset
of Belshazzar’s reign to grant the vision to Daniel, since it would be at the
end of his reign that the predicted judgment upon Babylon would fall, and
the Medo–Persian Empire would take its place. Notice that the visions
appeared to Daniel at night in his dreams seeing “the four winds of the
skies were stirring up the Mediterranean Sea.” These “four winds of the
skies” represent the various points of the compass, and the agitation of the
sea also comes from all directions [Jeremiah 49:36; Ezekiel 37:9;
Zechariah 2:6]. However, the Aramaic rûḥ [for “winds”] can also mean
“spirits.” So, although the imagery is indeed of “four winds,” the
flexibility of the term itself indicates that angelic beings are behind this
agitation of the sea [notice the use of rûḥôṯ in Zechariah 6:5]. Furthermore,
the Aramaic yammāʾ rabbāʾ [for “Mediterranean Sea”] is equivalent to the
Hebrew hayyāmmâ haggāḏôl for that sea [Numbers 34:6; Joshua 15:12].
Thus, the proximity of the “Mediterranean Sea” to Israel suggests that the
troubled waters are impacting the covenant nation! However, some
scholars argue that this is unlikely since it is obvious that three kingdoms
associated with the beasts are not located near the “Mediterranean Sea.”

Heather Macumber [21st century biblical scholar] says: “Ancient writers
also saw the edges of the world as dangerous and rife with creatures that
threaten humanity. In the Gilgamesh Epic, Gilgamesh travels from his
home in Uruk to the distant land of Utnapištim. On this journey he must
cross Mount Mašu inhabited by the scorpion men. The 9th century BCE
Babylonian Map of the World describes the various monsters that inhabit
the ocean encircling the known world. These include among other beasts:
‘ruined gods’ (line 4), bašmu ‘viper’ and mušhuššu rab ‘great sea–
serpent’ (lines 5–9). Monsters in ancient Greek myths typically were
driven out or withdrew to more removed locations such as caves,
mountains, seas, and rivers. This theme is not relegated to the ancient
Near Eastern or Greek traditions as one also finds it among the Cherokee.
They describe a snake–like creature with horns called the uktena that lives
in the mountains and in the deepest rivers on the edge of the Cherokee
world. A similar theme is present in the biblical material which features
its own share of monsters relegated to peripheral locations. In Daniel 7,
it is the chaotic sea where the dragon is found, but elsewhere it is the
wilderness or desert that harbours beasts and monsters. The primordial or
chaotic sea on the outskirts of the land is the habitation of various chaos
monsters known as Leviathan, Rahab, or the serpent (Psalm 74:13–14;
89:9–10; Isaiah 27:1; 51:9–10). In other peripheral locations like the
wilderness one finds references to wild and threatening beasts
(Deuteronomy 8:15; Isaiah 13:21; 34:14; Jeremiah 50:39; Psalm 74:14).
Demons and harmful spirits are also located in the wilderness removed
from human society (Leviticus 16:8–28; Isaiah 13:21; 34:14). This sense
of unfamiliar and liminal space is at work in Daniel’s vision of the strange
beasts rising from a chaotic sea. It is not always clear if these visions are
in fact located on an earthly sphere or in a liminal cosmic boundary. A
curious mixture of earthly and cosmic elements are combined which gives
the sense of an otherworldly nature. In Daniel 7 the sea is stirred by the
great winds from which emerge strange beasts. The only description we
have of this sea is that it is the ‘great sea.’ Although this term might be
interpreted as the Mediterranean Sea, this is unlikely since three of the
four kingdoms associated with the beasts are not located near it. Andrew
Angel has pointed to the existence of the same term in the Qumran
fragment 4Q541 7.3 that refers to the cosmic sea rather than the
Mediterranean. He points out that the description in 4Q541 of this sea
being silenced is a reference to the divine warrior that conquers the chaos
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waters that is found throughout the Old Testament (Psalm 65:8; 89:10).
Moreover, the reference in this fragment to the books of wisdom being
opened and the people’s inability to understand them suggest an
apocalyptic setting as is found in Daniel 7. Thus, the use of ‘great sea’ in
4Q541 7.3 provides an example comparable to Daniel 7 where the
cosmic sea is in mind rather than the Mediterranean Sea. In the ancient
world, the earth was commonly portrayed as a disc surrounded and
supported by a cosmic sea that constitutes the boundary of the known
world (Genesis 1:9–10; Psalm 72:8; Proverbs 8:27; Job 26:10). It is a
place where humans rarely frequent and where cosmic activity occurs. In
both Mesopotamian and Greek traditions, sea monsters were said to
inhabitant these waters and are pictured in chaotic terms that must be
conquered for the proper ordering of the universe. This image of a chaotic
sea is found in numerous places in the Old Testament and is likely
Ugaritic in origin. The author of Daniel 7 immediately establishes the
natural abode of the beasts as belonging to the marginal and chaotic
spaces outside Jerusalem. The narrative of Daniel 7 is made even more
terrifying when the reader realizes that the beasts are not relegated to the
cosmic sea, but have taken control over not only the city but the temple.”
John Goldingay [21st century biblical scholar] concludes: “Talk of four
winds, heaving sea, and huge animals calls to mind mythic material from
Babylon and Canaan reflected in earlier parts of the Old Testament. For
the mythic Sea, the Old Testament elsewhere uses the more general term
‘the sea’ (Isaiah 5:30; 27:1; Jeremiah 51:42; Psalm 74:13; 89:9; Job
26:12; Revelation 21:1) or ‘the Great Deep’ (Genesis 7:11; Isaiah 51:10;
Amos 7:4). The ‘Great Sea’ is a standard title for the Mediterranean, but
this vision trades on both possible significances: the Mediterranean
becomes a symbol for the tumultuous mythic sea.”
Furthermore, the agitation of the sea reflects the turmoil going on among
the nations [Isaiah 17:12–13; Jeremiah 46:7–8]. Thus, this imagery
suggests God’s providential action through his divine council members
arousing the chaotic nations of the world in such a way as to impact Israel
[Revelation 7:1; 9:14–15]. So, four beasts are said to arise from this “sea”
but are also said to arise “from the earth” [later in v. 17]. In other words,
the sea merely depicts the chaotic scene from which these Gentile nations
arise, but the truth is that they are clearly earthly empires.

Theodoret [5th century Bishop of Cyr] says: “Up to these words the blessed
Daniel has written his prophecy more in the style of a historian. First,
remember at the beginning he related what happened to those captured in
war, and he adds how God, the author of all, was greatly concerned about
these matters. Then he tells how Nebuchadnezzar paid the penalty for his
cruelty and arrogance and then how Belshazzar suffered for his
disrespectful use of the sacred vessels. Once the latter had been killed by a
divine blow and his empire handed over to the Medes, Daniel went on to
write those things that happened to himself and to Darius and explained
how it was that Darius favoured him, what sorts of plots Daniel had to
endure at the hands of the generals and satraps, and how he was delivered
from their hands by divine aid. Having expounded these things in a
historian’s fashion, now Daniel begins to expound those predictions that
he had learned through revelations. First he sets forth the revelation of the
four beasts, quite similar to the dream of Nebuchadnezzar. However,
Daniel sees the fourfold content manifested in only one image, while
Nebuchadnezzar saw four beasts ascending from the one sea. But lest
anyone think that we are forced to say the same things again, let us turn to
interpret the individual elements of the prophecy, where this truth will be
openly demonstrated. For his part, Nebuchadnezzar sees the image,
drawing a lesson in the futility of things of this life and the fact that they
are appearances, as the divine apostle asserts, and not realities, there is
nothing lasting or stable in them, everything fluid and failing and fading
[1 Corinthians 7:31]. Daniel, by contrast, is gazing at a sea, gaining a
lesson in the haze of the present life. After all, when a prisoner of war is
compelled to see a foreign land, he fittingly learns to recognize the storms
and tempests of life. And since the king too was haughty because of his
silver, bronze, and iron, he is given the mysteries concerning the kingdoms
through a statue composed of the very same materials [Daniel 2:31–45].
In this way he perceives the successions of kings and is admonished lest he
be removed because of a kingdom liable to swift and sudden change. He
calls life ‘the sea’ since it has those countless and great storms; he calls
the changes of regimes ‘winds,’ since they act against the very onslaught.
For just as the streams rush to the north whenever the south wind blows
and the wind is driven southward again when the north wind stirs up the
sea, so when the Assyrians obtained dominion over the whole world, they
drew all their conquered people to their land; but when the kingdom was
handed over to the Persians, there was also a confluence of their subjects
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to the Persians. And when the Macedonians in turn obtained the sceptre,
all brought to them twice the usual tribute, except for those to whom they
had been previously obedient. And when the Romans acquired command
over all nations, everyone rushed to the west and thought nothing of the
Macedonians. And the Macedonians themselves were counted now as one
of the conquered nations. Quite appropriately then he compares the
changes of the wind with the changes of regimes, since the winds drive
sailors now this way, now that way. Therefore, he mentioned the four
winds, since there were four successions of kingdoms. But he teaches us
in what manner the beasts differ among themselves. But the prophet, full of
disdain for these various metals, sees ‘four’ beasts. From those four beasts
he understands that those four formidable kingdoms, which will strike fear
into all people, will at last have an end, but there will be only one
kingdom that will remain for all time without any end, namely, the
kingdom that God has prepared for his saints [Daniel 2:44].”
John Goldingay [21st century biblical scholar] concludes: “The use of
animal symbols already suggests that it is the history of nations that
unfolds before us; specifically, the animals signify the kings who rule the
nations (v. 17). Israelite clans were symbolized by animals such as ox,
lion, and wolf (Genesis 49; Deuteronomy 33), modern nations are
symbolized by eagle, bear, bull, and springbok, and modern tribal
societies use the same symbolism. None of this symbolism implies there is
anything ‘bestial’ about the nations’ character or behaviour. But the
unfolding vision will picture something higher than the animal as the
nations’ destiny, aspiration, and successor (vv. 4, 8, 13). If the animals
stand for the totality of the nations, their origin both in the initiative of the
heavens and in the turmoil of the deep suggests something of their
ambiguity. It is they that embody the disorder of the formless deep, its
energy uncontrolled by any desire to serve God or humanity. Evil is not a
unity. Modern nations symbolized by animals, such as the ones listed
above, also stand under both these signs, as do international entities
such as the European Community, the United Nations, and NATO.”
Next in v. 4, we read: “The first resembled a lion, but it had eagle’s wings.
I continued to watch until its wings were plucked off, it was lifted up off the
ground, and it was forced to stand on two feet like a man. A human soul
was imparted to it.”

Since each beast represented a king/kingdom [later in vv. 17, 23], we need
to parallel these four beasts with Nebuchadnezzar’s dream of a statue laid
with four successive materials representing four successive kingdoms
[recall Daniel 2]. Thus, by comparing the statue’s head of gold [recall
Daniel 2:37–38], this 1st beast “resembled a lion” with “eagle’s wings,”
features that also symbolized the Neo–Babylonian Empire, especially the
processional way [after entering the Ishtar Gate] that was ornamented with
~120 lions in glazed–brick iconography [symbols of the goddess Ishtar].
So, this lion–eagle imagery represented Nebuchadnezzar and his predatory
fierceness, and Babylon was symbolized with these features elsewhere as a
lion [Jeremiah 4:7; 49:19, 22; 50:17, 44] and an eagle [Deuteronomy
28:49; 2 Samuel 1:23; Jeremiah 4:13; 48:40; 49:22; Lamentations 4:19;
Ezekiel 17:2–3, 12; Habakkuk 1:8]. This is because Nebuchadnezzar’s
eagle–like conquests include his routing of the Egyptian army at
Carchemish in 605 b.c. just before he was declared king. This led
immediately to Babylon’s seizing the region of Hamath, Riblah, and the
conquest of Syro–Palestine, an event that resulted in Daniel and his
companions going into exile [recall Daniel 1:1–6]. Nebuchadnezzar also
besieged Tyre for 13 years that began as early as 603 b.c., and by
Nebuchadnezzar’s 40th year, Tyre had a Babylonian governor.
Nebuchadnezzar besieged Jerusalem two more times, once in 598/597 b.c.,
at which time Jehoiachin was taken into Babylonian exile [2 Kings 24:16],
and again in 588 b.c. [2 Kings 25:1], leading to the destruction of
Jerusalem and the end of its monarchy in August of 587/586 b.c.
Nebuchadnezzar also controlled Que [Cilicia] by 585 b.c. Jeremiah
predicted that Nebuchadnezzar would strike Egypt [Jeremiah 43:8–13],
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and there is a fragmentary cuneiform text [BM 33041] that indicates he did
around 568 b.c., although the fragmentary nature of this text means
conclusions must be tentative, because although some scholars believe that
BM 33041 does refer to Babylon’s invasion of Egypt, other scholars argue
that BM 33041 speaks of foreign mercenaries and has nothing to do with
an invasion of Egypt in 568 b.c. Nevertheless, Nebuchadnezzar carved out
a kingdom that stretched from Egypt in the south–west through Syro–
Palestine to Cilicia, Pirindu, and Lydia in the north–west and extended
southeast to Elam. However, despite its grandeur and majesty, what
follows is God’s judgment on Nebuchadnezzar, and God’s sovereign
working in Babylonian history, and God’s grace in view of
Nebuchadnezzar’s repentance. Thus, its “wings were plucked off,”
symbolizing Nebuchadnezzar’s humiliation and falling into madness
[recall Daniel 4:16], not Babylon’s defeat by Medo–Persia, because Daniel
says that “it was lifted up off the ground” after the plucking. In other
words, his hair grew like eagle’s feathers and his nails grew like bird’s
claws [recall Daniel 4:33], but God humbled Nebuchadnezzar when he
“was forced to stand on two feet like a man” and then “a human soul was
imparted” into him. This depicts Nebuchadnezzar’s restoration, once he
recognized that heaven rules [recall Daniel 4:34–37]. He went from being
animal–like to human–like, because he rightly saw himself as a mere
human, and correctly understood that it was God’s kingdom that eternally
mattered, not his own kingdom. Also, notice that this vision was after
Nebuchadnezzar’s death by portraying history, not predicting the future.
Hippolytus [3rd century] says: “Now since these things, spoken as they are
with a mystical meaning, may seem to some hard to understand, we shall
keep back nothing fitted to impart an intelligent apprehension of them to
those who are possessed of a sound mind. He said, then, that a ‘lioness
came up from the sea,’ and by that he meant the kingdom of the
Babylonians in the world, which also was the head of gold on the image.
In saying that it ‘had wings as of an eagle,’ he meant that Nebuchadnezzar
the king was lifted up and was exalted against God. Then he says ‘the
wings were plucked,’ that is to say, his glory was destroyed; for he was
driven out of his kingdom. And the words ‘a man’s heart was given to it,
and it was made to stand on the feet as a man,’ refer to the fact that he
repented and recognized himself to be a man and gave the glory to God.”

Jerome [4th century] likewise says: “The kingdom of the Babylonians was
not called a lion but a lioness, on account of its brutality and cruelty, or
else because of its luxurious, lust–serving manner of life. For writers on
the natural history of beasts assert that lionesses are fiercer than lions,
especially if they are nursing their cubs, and constantly are passionate in
their desire for sexual relations. And as for the fact that she possessed
eagle’s wings, this indicates the pride of the all–powerful kingdom, the
ruler of which declares in Isaiah, ‘Above the stars of heaven I will place
my throne, and I shall be like unto the Most High’ [Isaiah 14:13].
Therefore he is told, ‘Though you are borne on high like an eagle, from
there I will drag you down’ [Obadiah 4]. Moreover, just as the lion
occupies kingly rank among beasts, so also the eagle among the birds. But
it should also be said that the eagle enjoys a long span of life and that the
kingdom of Assyrians had held sway for many generations. And as for the
fact that the wings of the lioness or eagle were torn away, this signifies the
other kingdoms over which it had ruled and soared about in the world.”
Ephrem the Syrian [4th century] concludes: “This beast obviously
represents the kingdom of the Babylonians. The present vision of Daniel
perfectly fits in with the already mentioned dream of Nebuchadnezzar, who
saw a statue, and it forms a single and same prophecy with it. Indeed, as
the Babylonian kingdom, in that dream, was compared with gold, which is
the noblest among metals, here it is described as a lion, which is the
strongest of all beasts, and an eagle, which is of the highest
perniciousness among birds.”
Next in v. 5, we read: “Then look!—a second animal resembling a bear
followed it. It was raised up on one side, with three ribs held between the
teeth in its mouth. People kept telling it, ‘Get up and devour lots of meat!’”
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This bear–like creature refers to the Syrian brown bear, and most critical
scholars argue that this 2nd beast symbolized the Medes as distinct from the
Persians. However, historically the Medes did not conquer Babylon or in
any sense succeed Babylon. In fact, Daniel treats Medo–Persia as a single
entity. Thus, this bear–like creature symbolized the strength and fierceness
of Medo–Persia that under Cyrus conquered Babylon in 539 b.c. and took
over its kingdom. Also, for it to be “raised up on one side,” while a
threatening posture, was probably like the two–horned ram in which one
horn was longer than the other [later in Daniel 8:3], and in both cases the
united Media and Persia empire is portrayed in a way showing Persia as
the more prominent partner over Media [later in Daniel 8:20].
Furthermore, for it to “devour lots of meat” indicates the predatory nature
of this beast. The “three ribs” could represent no more than the various
victims of Persia’s insatiable appetite for conquest, although some scholars
look for three specific conquests, either as a reference to Cyrus conquering
the Persians, the Medes, and the Babylonians; or a reference to Persia
[east], Egypt by Cambyses [south], and the Scythians [north]; or three
specific conquests of Lydia, Babylon, and Egypt, because of:
1. Cyrus’ conquest of Lydia and its wealthy king Croesus in Asia
Minor [546 b.c.] was an event that sent a shockwave throughout
the ancient Near East, equivalent to the fall of Nineveh in 614 b.c.
2. Cyrus’ conquest of Babylon [539 b.c.] was a key event for Jews.
3. Cambyses’ conquest of Egypt [525–522 b.c.] was the last of
Persia’s major conquests.
Thus, eating “lots of meat” symbolizes Medo–Persia’s swallowing up
various peoples, and Persia was given divine permission for its conquest of
Babylon [Isaiah 13:17–19; 43:1–3; Jeremiah 51:11, 28]. Thus, unlike the
4th beast, this 2nd beast was under God’s control, because God allowed the
Babylonian Empire to be ruled by foreign kings after Nebuchadnezzar,
until finally she was conquered in 539 b.c. by the combined forces of the
Medes and Persians. Thus, this bear–like creature was Medo–Persia,
despite critical scholars denying this interpretation, preferring to interpret
this 2nd beast as only Media, with the 3rd beast representing Persia.

Nevertheless, the evidence extensively favours the Medo–Persian view:
1. Daniel predicted that Babylon would be replaced by the Medes and
the Persians, not merely the Medes [recall Daniel 5:28].
2. The reference to the “laws of the Medes and Persians” [recall
Daniel 6:8, 12, 15] views these two peoples as forming one empire.
3. Media and Persia was viewed as one power under the figure of a
two–horned ram [later in Daniel 8:3, 20].
4. The kingdom that followed Medo–Persia was Greece as a goat
[later in Daniel 8], and its four horns paralleled the four heads of
the 3rd beast, confirming that the goat was Greece, not Persia.
5. Critical scholars leave Rome out of the interpretation so that they
do not need to admit predictive prophecy! Nevertheless, they face
the dilemma that Rome “will destroy both the city and the
Sanctuary” [later in Daniel 9:26], which was Jerusalem in 70 a.d.
6. Since Darius was a Mede [recall Daniel 5:31], this does not
establish that the empire that follows Babylon was only Media,
because the Medes and the Persians had combined their armies in
several military endeavours prior to and including that of 539 b.c.
7. The details of Daniel 7 do not favour the critical scholars, because
the fact that the 3rd beast is a leopard [later in v. 6], it implies
swiftness, and this characterizes the campaign of Alexander the
Great more than Persia. Likewise the 10 horns connected with the
4th beast are difficult to reconcile with the political leaders
following Alexander or with the Seleucid dynasty.
In summary, notice that Medo–Persia was not depicted literally as a bear.
Instead, this 2nd beast had the function of “resembling” a bear by
highlighting its appetite. In other words, this 2nd beast was powerful and
ferocious like a bear [Isaiah 13:17–18], but was less majestic, less swift,
and less glorious. The Persian Empire was never content with its huge
domain, and its appetite for conquest led her into conflicts with Greece.
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Thus, the “three ribs held between the teeth in its mouth” signified three
crucial conquests that helped solidify the power of the Medo–Persian
kingdom, and the “three ribs” are clearly identified specifically as Lydia in
western Asia Minor [546 b.c.], Babylon [539 b.c.], and Egypt by
Cambyses [525 b.c.]. Thus, since Lydia at that time controlled western
Asia Minor [including significant cities like Ephesus and Sardis], it had
abundant gold reserves, and this formed a natural buffer with the Greek
and Macedonian realms, which was obviously a strategic position
militarily for the Medes and Persians.
Jerome [4th century] says: “The 2nd beast resembling a bear is the same as
that of which we read in the vision of the statue, ‘His chest and arms were
of silver’ [Daniel 2:32]. In the former case the comparison was based on
the hardness of the metal, in this case on the ferocity of the bear. For the
Persian kingdom followed a rigorous and frugal manner of life after the
manner of the Spartans, and that too to such an extent that they used to
use salt and nasturtium cress in their relish.”
Theodoret [5th century Bishop of Cyr] likewise says: “Here he indicates
the Persian kingdom, which he states to have been like a bear because of
the cruelty and savageness of the punishments it meted out. For the
Persians were the cruellest of all the barbarians when it came to
punishing. They would rip out the very hearts of offenders, or they would
contrive long tortures in which they would sever the guilty limb by limb.
They were always inflicting a harsh death on whomever they punished.
The Persians ruled three parts of the world: the east, the north, and the
south. Cyrus brought into submission all the east, as far as the Hellespont.
His son subdued Egypt and made the Ethiopians subject to him. Darius
acquired the realm of the nomadic Scythians, to whom it had been destined
to inhabit the northern realms, and Xerxes the son of Darius tried to join
Europe under his rule. But he was defeated by the Athenians in a naval
battle and had to return home in shame. He realized that the defeat had
been caused by his insatiable greed. Therefore Daniel says, ‘Three wings
were in its mouth.’ Some manuscripts read ‘ribs,’ but it really does not
make any difference. Whether three ribs or three wings are placed in its
mouth, it teaches that the Persian Empire harvested the fruits of three
parts of the world and took tribute from everywhere, and he rightly stated
‘in its mouth’ to show the tribute that would be paid by all to it.”
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Next in v. 6, we read: “After this, I continued to watch—and look!—there Still others see the “four heads” as a symbol of universal totality, or as
was another one, resembling a leopard with four birds’ wings on its back. looking in all four directions to attack. Nevertheless, that “authority was
The animal also had four heads, and authority was imparted to it.” imparted to it” implies God allowed this beast’s sovereignty for a time.

This 3rd beast is like a In summary, in contrast to Babylon, the Medo–Persian Empire lasted
“leopard” [or a much longer [just over ~200 years]. This 3rd beast represents the Grecian
“panther”], known for empire founded by Alexander the Great and the Hellenistic kingdoms that
its spots [Jeremiah resulted from the breakup of his empire. The animosity between Greece
13:23], hill country and Persia had been fomenting for many years. As early as the reign of
and mountainous Darius the Great [522–486 b.c.], trouble between the two erupted. The
habitat [Songs 4:8], cities of Ionia [present–day western Turkey] revolted against Persia, and
predatory stalking and this was thought to be at the encouragement and participation of the
ripping of its prey Athenians. This in turn led to Persian expeditions against Greece in 492
[Hosea 13:7; Jeremiah b.c. and again in 490 b.c. The latter resulted in the Battle of Marathon in
5:6], and fast speed 490 b.c., in which a much smaller Athenian army routed the Persian
[Habakkuk 1:8]. Thus, forces. Following the death of Darius in 486 b.c., his son Xerxes [the
this 3rd beast biblical Ahasuerus] came to the throne [485–465 b.c.]. Then in the early
represents the Greek fall of 480 b.c., Xerxes brought a huge army and naval force against
kingdom of Alexander Greece to avenge the humiliation suffered earlier at Marathon. Although
the Great, who the invasion brought extensive suffering and misery to Greece, it was not a
conquered the Medo– Persian victory at all, even though the Persians burned and destroyed
Persian Empire in Athens itself in 480 b.c. The navy of Xerxes was smashed before his very
334–331 b.c. Notice eyes at Salamis [west of Athens]. Likewise, his army was blocked by the
that the “four wings” Spartans at the pass of Thermopylae and then was defeated in 479 b.c. at
represents his rapid Plataea [northwest of Athens]. Although Xerxes was able to keep his army
speed of conquest. In intact, he returned home without the victory he set out to achieve. As a
other words, in 335– result of these hostilities, the Greeks never forgave the Persians. This
323 b.c., he conquered Greece, Asia Minor, Egypt, and Persia, and invaded long–standing animosity helped provoke Alexander the Great to invade
India! Likewise its “four heads” has been taken to refer to the breakup of Persia many years later. Thus, because this 3rd beast was seen as
his kingdom among his generals, their sons, and/or his other colleagues. “resembling a leopard with four birds’ wings on its back,” this
There is more than one interpretation of exactly how to apply this emphatically underscores the tremendous speed by which Alexander
approach. Some scholars take the four divisions to be among Ptolemy, carried out his conquest of the Persian Empire. In 336 b.c., at 20 years old,
Selecus, Philip Arridaeusan [Alexander’s illegitimate brother who was he took the throne of Macedon. In 334 b.c., he set out to conquer Persia.
proclaimed king upon Alexander’s death but never exercised genuine Following an initial defeat of the Persian army at the Battle of Issus in 333
power], and Antigonus [who preceded Selucus in ruling the eastern part of b.c., Alexander was able to advance southward and lay claim to Egypt. By
Alexander’s empire]. Other scholars see the “four heads” as the eventual 331 b.c., he achieved a decisive victory over the Persians at the Battle of
division of Alexander’s kingdom into roughly four parts after a Arbela. In the aftermath, he burned Persepolis in retaliation for the
complicated period of civil war. Persians having burned Athens in 480 b.c.
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Thus, this map demonstrates how Alexander had conquered all of Persia in So, in 323 b.c., these were the chief provinces of his empire:
~4 years, which was an empire that had taken centuries to build:

Then, in 311 b.c., these were the principal territories of his empire:
1. Crossing into Asia; conquest of western Asia Minor in 334 b.c.
2. Battle of Issus; conquest of Syria in 333 b.c.
3. Submission of Palestine; conquest of Egypt in 332 b.c.
4. Battle of Arbela; conquest of Babylon, Susa, Persepolis in 331 b.c.
5. Pursuit of Darius; advance through Parthia toward Aria in 332 b.c.
6. Advance north through Bactria and to the Jaxartes in 329 b.c.
7. Campaigns to subdue Sogdiana in 328 b.c.
8. Marriage to Roxana in Sogdiana; advance to India in 327 b.c.
9. Crossing of Indus and conquest of northwest India in 326 b.c.
10. Journey to Indus delta and Indian Ocean in 325 b.c.
11. Return to Susa; attempts at organization in 324 b.c.
12. Return to Babylon; death of Alexander at 33 years old in 323 b.c.

So, since this 3rd beast is said to have had “four heads,” this looks at the
division of Alexander’s kingdom into four parts following his untimely
death in Babylon, which means his taste of victory was short–lived. Thus,
a long struggle ensued as to who would reign in Alexander’s place.

During this time his infant son was murdered, which led to rivalry for
power, and after Cassander’s overthrow of Antigonus at the Battle of Ipsus
in 301 b.c., Alexander’s kingdom was distributed to four of his generals:
1. Lysimachus: Thrace and Bithynia [much of Asia Minor].
2. Cassander: Macedonia and Greece.
3. Seleucus: Syria, Babylonia, and the lands to the east.
4. Ptolemy: Egypt, Palestine, and Arabia Petrea.
Then, finally in 280 b.c., there were three principal kingdoms of his
empire. In other words, after Seleucus defeated and killed Lysimachus in
281 b.c., there remained three great Hellenistic kingdoms dominating the
ancient Near East: Macedonia, the Seleucid empire [Syria], and Egypt.
Macedonia, previously taken by Lysimachus, did not fall to Seleucus; he
was killed in 280 b.c. before he could take it over. But it soon afterward
fell to Antigonus, son of Demetrius, and then was held by the Antigonid
line of kings. For some years large parts of Asia Minor were ruled by the
Seleucid kings, although immediately after the death of Lysimachus, the
invading Gauls overran part of it, and other fragments fell away, and the
territory of Lysimachus eventually became a welter of small states,
including Pergamum.
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Then the Seleucids lost everything except Syria, and prior to the time of
Jesus, these three Hellenistic kingdoms [Macedonia, Syria, and Egypt]
each successively became a Roman province:
Hippolytus [3rd century] says: “In mentioning the leopard, he means the
kingdom of the Greeks, over whom Alexander of Macedon was king, and
he likened them to a leopard, because they were quick and inventive in
thought and bitter in heart, just as that animal is many–coloured in
appearance and quick in wounding and in drinking human blood.”
Jerome [4th century] concludes: “It had ‘four’ wings. There was never,
after all, any victory won more quickly than Alexander’s, for he traversed
all the way from Illyricum and the Adriatic Sea to the Indian Ocean and
the Ganges River, not merely fighting battles but winning decisive
victories; and in 6 years he subjugated to his rule a portion of Europe
and all of Asia. Thus, by the ‘four heads’ reference is made to his
generals: Ptolemy, Seleucus, Philip, and Antigonus, and ‘power was given
to it’ shows that the empire did not result from Alexander’s bravery but
from the will of God.”
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Finally in vv. 7–8, we read: “After this, I continued to observe the night
visions. And look!—there was a fourth awe–inspiring, terrifying, and
viciously strong animal! It had large, iron teeth. It devoured and crushed
things, and trampled under its feet whatever remained. Different from all
of the other previous animals, it had ten horns. While I was thinking about
the horns—look—another horn, this time a little one, grew up among them.
Three of the first horns were yanked up by their roots right in front of it.
Look! It had eyes like those of a human being and a mouth that boasted
with audacious claims.”
iron teeth” connects this 4th beast with the 4th kingdom in
Nebuchadnezzar’s dream represented by iron legs with feet of iron mixed
with clay [recall Daniel 2:33, 40–43]. There iron symbolized strength and
destructive power, but here the iron–teeth imagery suggests fierce
predatory behaviour, as was the case in Rome’s conquests, gladiator fights,
and crucifixion practices. Rome was, to be sure, a dominant power that
ripped, pulverized, and smashed the world. So, while each beast is unique
[v. 3], this 4th beast was “different” in that it is not likened to a known
beast [lion, bear, or leopard]. It is beyond earthly analogy, incomparably
fiercer than the previous beasts, and less subject to God’s control than they
are. So, the fact that it is “different” is one reason not to identify this 4th
beast as only about Rome, since Rome was not significantly different from
previous empires to justify putting it in a category of its own. Instead, it is
best to see it as Rome–and–beyond kingdom in the eschatological future.

This final 4th beast is obviously the most prominent and dreadful of all.
Since Rome succeeded Greece as the power over Palestine, Rome was
traditionally the preliminary identification of this 4th beast. However,
critical scholars have attempted to make the 4th kingdom the successors of
Alexander, but that their kingdoms are merely fragmented continuations of
Alexander’s Greek kingdom and cannot count as a new kingdom on par
with those of Babylon, Medo–Persia, or Alexander. They also argue that
identification with Rome is problematic because the destruction of this 4th
beast is eschatological [later in v. 13], and obviously the Roman Empire
has long since ceased to exist! Furthermore, it makes no sense to say that
the Roman culture lives in Western Culture or continued in the Austrian
Hapsburg’s Holy Roman Empire [which was neither holy nor Roman].
Likewise, although John uses Roman imagery in conjunction with this 4th
beast [Revelation 17:9], this mostly reflects his cultural setting and
audience. So, to speak of a future revived Roman Empire is special
pleading. Nevertheless, this problem can be resolved by understanding this Also, the “ten horns” are called kings [later in v. 24], and horns on animals
4th beast to be something more than Rome. In other words, it is a future were often used aggressively against perceived enemies, metaphorically
eschatological kingdom that resembles Rome. This is why John used representing power and conquest [Deuteronomy 33:17; Zechariah 1:19],
Roman imagery for it, which means Rome was a prototype of what this while broken–off horns represented weakness and defeat [Jeremiah 48:25].
terrifying eschatological kingdom will be like. So, this 4th beast can be So, the “little” horn is identified as another king who will subdue 3 out of
viewed as a type of Rome–and–beyond, because the mention of “large, 10 kings [later in v. 24]. It is called “little” to denigrate this king.

In summary, this 4th beast was the Roman Empire, especially since the
Jewish midrashim lists the four kingdoms as Babylon, Persia, Greece, and
Rome. In contrast to Greece, which acquired its power rapidly under
Alexander, the Roman Empire acquired dominion gradually, from Rome’s
victory over Carthage in 241 b.c., until the height of its power in 117 a.d.
Alexander conquered by the rapidity of his troop movements, whereas
Rome conquered by the ruthless crushing of other peoples: “it devoured
and crushed things, and trampled under its feet whatever remained.”
Furthermore, in 64/63 b.c., Pompey conquered Syria and Palestine,
bringing these biblical lands into the folds of Rome. Thus, several
important observations should be made concerning this 4th beast:
1. This kingdom is differentiated from the previous three since it is
not likened to any specific animal, but is simply described as being
“awe–inspiring, terrifying, and viciously strong.” There is no
animal fierce enough to portray this kingdom. Also, its uniqueness
calls attention to the emphatic role it plays here, since this final
beast stands out due to its lack of name and specific corporality that
hinders one’s abilities to classify and identify it.
2. This kingdom comes successively since its 10 horns arise after the
4th beast, and the “little” horn arises after the horns [later in v. 24].
3. This kingdom had both a past and a future fulfilment:
a) It was the historic Roman Empire of the past through
paralleling the 4th part of the image in Daniel 2. For example,
notice that the element of iron is common to the 4th part of the
image in Daniel 2 with this 4th beast that had large iron teeth.
b) John says that the 10 horns along with the “little” horn will
arise, being reserved for the tribulation [Revelation 13; 17; 19].
c) Since the symbolism of this 4th beast has its fulfilment over a
vast period of time, this means that there is a gap of time
between the initial entry of this 4th beast and the final aspects
represented by the 10 horns and the “little” horn. This can be
compared to the 3rd beast’s “insignificant horn” that “emerged
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from one of them” [later in Daniel 8:9], because this involved
an extensive time lapse between Seleucus I in 312–280 b.c.,
and Antiochus IV Epiphanes in 175–164 b.c. [identified as the
“insignificant horn”]. Another time gap is in the 70 weeks
prophecy [later in Daniel 9:24–27], that the 1st and 2nd coming
of Jesus involves an unknown period of time [Isaiah 61:1–2].
d) Despite the fact that this 4th beast has the additional features of
the 10 horns and the “little” horn [with a time gap involved],
there is a strong connection between the historic Roman
Empire and the eventual fulfilment in the tribulation. This is
because Daniel refers to this as one beast [vv. 3, 17], and the 10
kings arise “from this kingdom” [v. 24], which indicates the
geopolitical realm as the source from which the 10 kings arise.
This means the future phase of this 4th beast [involving the 10
kings and the “little” horn] will arise out of the territories
and/or political spheres that once constituted the Roman
Empire. Since the Romans destroyed the Jerusalem in 70 a.d.,
the “coming commander” [later in Daniel 9:26] arises from
Rome [meaning the “little” horn = the “coming commander”].
Furthermore, what intrigued Daniel about this 4th beast were the horns that
made this 4th beast different from the preceding three beasts. A “horn” was
seen to be symbolic of power [1 Kings 22:11; Zechariah 1:18–21],
particularly the power of a reigning ruler [Psalm 132:17; Ezekiel 29:21].
Thus, since the horns are clearly symbolic of kings [later in v. 24], there
was a “little” horn that came up from among the 10 horns, but “three of the
first horns were yanked up by their roots right in front of it.” This imagery
of uprooting denotes violent militaristic overthrow [Zephaniah 2:4]. So,
although the latter horn is described as “little,” this is not a true indication
of its power, or perhaps it was only applicable initially. Nevertheless, it
was “greater in appearance than its fellows” [later in v. 20]. So, this
“little” horn appears to be a symbol of the future antichrist that will arise in
the tribulation prior to the return of Jesus in glory [later in vv. 19–25].
Although critical scholars view this “little” horn as a reference to
Antiochus IV Epiphanes, traditionally it was understood to be the Roman
general Titus who destroyed the Temple in 70 a.d. Nevertheless,
interpreting the 10 horns is affected by the perspective of the “little” horn.

So, although some scholars take the 10 horns as 10 successive kings who
ruled during the Seleucid period, this interpretation breaks down, since we
must make Antiochus IV Epiphanes both the “little” horn and the last of
the 10 horns! In other words, obviously Antiochus IV Epiphanes was not
responsible for uprooting three other kings. Likewise, other scholars differ
by taking the number 10 as a symbol of completeness, and they conclude
that it represents any number of kingdoms after the Roman Empire for an
unknown duration of time before the 2nd coming of Jesus. Nevertheless, its
“eyes like those of a human being” reflects not its mental ability, but the
prideful attitude that drives its actions [Isaiah 2:11; 5:15]. This parallels its
“mouth that boasted with audacious claims,” because Daniel will contrast
this with the 2nd Power/Yahweh, because “his eyes were like flaming
torches” [later in Daniel 10:6; Revelation 1:14; 2:18] so that he is able to
see into the souls of men and rightfully judge them. So, despite having
enormous power and satanic energizing, the antichrist is really nothing
more than a mere creature, and he will never be an equal match for Jesus,
regardless if it has a mouth that speaks arrogant things [later in v. 11], or
claims of divinity and demanding worship [later in Daniel 11:36; 2
Thessalonians 2:4; Revelation 13:3–4].
Chrysostom [4th century Bishop of Constantinople] says: “When scripture
wishes to expound on the kingdoms, it uses the metaphor of beasts. A
kingdom is an incorporeal object; therefore, some type of body has to be
ascribed to it, and was it not fitting to describe kingdoms as beasts? Most
certainly! For since the qualities of those kingdoms exist chiefly in those
beasts, so he found them useful. He wished to show fierce arrogance and
luxury, and he made use of a lioness. He wished to show slowness, and he
made use of a bear. He wished to show speed and briskness and such as
would overthrow all empires by its wars; thus he introduced a leopard.
Look how earlier he had seen a beautiful sea, which represented the whole
earth. For the world is filled with so many tumults and is stirred up in the
same way that the sea is stirred up, although the sea is filled with fish, not
humans. Christ even declares this to be the case, namely, that the present
life is the sea, when he says, ‘The kingdom of heaven is like a dragnet
thrown into the sea, which brings together fish of every kind’ [Matthew
13:47]. ‘And behold,’ Daniel says, ‘the four winds of the heavens rushed
on the great sea.’ He declares that those beasts then went forth from there,
and so he shows the swiftness of divine providence. For when we talk
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about speed, we introduce the figure of the winds. Daniel says that the
winds rushed on the sea and the beasts emerged from the sea, for our
leaders partake of our nature. So he often calls a king ‘a lion,’ wishing to
show its royal dignity and yet its feral nature. Or he does so because that
wind is an easterly one, this wind is a northerly one, and yet another is a
southerly one. It is as if someone had said, ‘He overturns the sea; the
winds from the sky have stirred it up.’ Then he tells that the 4th beast
would arrive in all sorts of different ways and nothing could be compared
with it, it was so different. But at last it conquered all the other kingdoms.
The other empires all got their strength from the speed by which they
conquered, but this beast would have its strength in its teeth, made of
iron. ‘And he trampled the rest with his feet.’ He understands many wars.
Who are the 10 kings? What is the little horn? I say that the antichrist will
appear among a certain number of kings. ‘And in that horn were eyes like
the eyes of a human and a mouth boasting great things.’ What greater
boast can be said with that mouth than this thing that is said, ‘He will
place himself above everything that is called God or divine, so much so
that he will sit in the temple of God’ [2 Thessalonians 2:4]? Do not
marvel if he has the eyes of a human, even if he speaks such things. He
is a person. Why does the horn appear to be little and not big in the
beginning? It will grow after this time and will rule kingdoms. Why? No
kingdom will conquer this king, but God will abolish and destroy him.”
Jerome [4th century] likewise says: “The 4th empire is the Roman Empire,
which now occupies the entire world. The Hebrews believe that the beast
that is here not named is the one spoken of in the Psalms: ‘A boar from the
forest laid her waste, and a strange wild animal consumed her’ [Psalm
80:13]. Instead of this the Hebrews read, ‘All the beasts of the field have
torn her.’ While they are all included in the one empire of the Romans, we
recognize at the same time those kingdoms that were previously separate,
and as for the next statement, ‘devouring and crushing and pounding all
the rest to pieces under his feet,’ this signifies that all nations have either
been slain by the Romans or else have been subjected to tribute and
servitude. Porphyry assigned the last two beasts, that of the Macedonians
and that of the Romans, to the one realm of the Macedonians and divided
them up as follows. He claimed that the leopard was Alexander himself
and that the beast that was dissimilar to the others represented the four
successors of Alexander, and then he enumerates 10 kings up to the time of

Antiochus, surnamed Epiphanes, and who were very cruel, and he did not
assign the kings themselves to separate kingdoms, for example, Macedon,
Syria, Asia, or Egypt, but rather he made out the various kingdoms a
single realm consisting of a series. This he did of course in order that the
words which were written: ‘a mouth uttering overweening boasts’ might
be considered as spoken about Antiochus instead of about antichrist. We
should therefore concur with the traditional interpretation of all the
commentators of the Christian church, that at the end of the world, when
the Roman Empire is to be destroyed, there shall be 10 kings who will
partition the Roman world among themselves. Then an insignificant 11th
king will arise, who will overcome 3 of the 10 kings, that is, the king of
Egypt, the king of North Africa, and the king of Ethiopia. Then, after they
have been slain, the 7 other kings also will bow their necks to the victor.
‘And behold,’ he continues, ‘there were eyes similar to human eyes in that
horn.’ Let us not follow the opinion of some commentators and suppose
him to be either the devil or some demon, but rather, one of the human
race, in whom Satan will wholly take up his residence in bodily form,
‘and a mouth uttering overweening boasts.’ For this is the man of sin, the
son of perdition, and that also to such a degree that he dares to sit in the
temple of God, making himself out to be like God.”
Theodoret [5th century Bishop of Cyr] also says: “He calls the Roman
Empire ‘the 4th beast,’ but he does not give it a name because the Roman
state was forged together from very many nations and so acquired
mastery over the whole world. First it was governed by kings, then by the
people, then by the aristocracy, and at last it returned to the first mode of
government, monarchy. He states that this beast is ‘fearsome and very
awe–inspiring,’ because this was the mightiest kingdom of all the other
kingdoms, and in the statue that Nebuchadnezzar saw, he put down the
4th metal as iron. Just as iron crushes and breaks everything, so this
empire would crush and break everything. Then he alludes to the
antichrist, who arises among the 10 horns, and he states that the antichrist
will pluck out root and all 3 horns before himself. This means that he will
overpower 3 kings of the 10 who would reign at that time, and he calls it a
‘little’ horn, as it was born from the little tribe of the Jews. However, he
also calls it ‘eminent’ since he would be noble. By its ‘eyes’ he refers to its
prudence and astuteness, by which he will deceive many, and yet he speaks
of its ‘mouth speaking great things,’ or its arrogance and haughtiness.”
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Aphrahat [4th century] concludes: “Now the 4th beast has swallowed up the
3rd beast, and this 3rd beast consists of the children of Japhet, and the 4th
beast consists of the children of Shem, for they are the children of Esau.
When Daniel saw the vision of the four beasts, he saw first the children of
Ham, the seed of Nimrod, which the Babylonians are; and second, the
Persians and Medes, who are the children of Japhet; and third, the
Greeks, the brothers of the Medes; and fourth, the children of Shem, which
the children of Esau are. For a confederacy was formed between the
children of Japhet and the children of Shem. Then the government was
taken away from the children of Japhet, the younger, and was given to
Shem, the elder; and to this day it continues and will continue forever. But
when the time of the consummation of the dominion of the children of
Shem shall have come, the ruler, who came forth from the children of
Judah, shall receive the kingdom, when he comes in his second advent.”
3) What was Daniel’s vision of the Ancient of Days? (7:9–14)
Starting with vv. 9–10, we read: “I kept on watching until the Ancient of
Days was seated. His clothes were white, like snow, and the hair on his
head was like pure wool. His throne burned with flaming fire, and its
wheels burned with fire. A river of fire flowed out from before him.
Thousands upon thousands were serving him, with millions upon millions
waiting before him. The court sat in judgment, and books were unsealed.”
The description of the night visions seen by Daniel now shifts to a
heavenly setting where “the Ancient of Days was seated” in order to
administer judgment. The Aramaic attîq yômîn [for “Ancient of Days”]
acts as a title, and this contrasts with Psalm 55:20, which refers to God as
the one “who is enthroned from long ago.”
Ronald Allen [21st century biblical scholar] says: “This root is used
infrequently in Hebrew of spatial motion and temporal aging. Its Akkadian
cognate etēqu is a common verb meaning ‘to pass along, advance.’
Cognates are found also in Arabic ataqa (‘to precede, grow old’),
Ugaritic tq (‘to pass’), and Aramaic ʾattîq (‘old’).”
Thus, this communicates God’s exceptionally advanced age to showcase
his eternality and wisdom so that he can judge wisely [Sirach 25:3–5].

Ernest Lucas [21st century biblical scholar] says: “In Canaanite mythology
the head of the pantheon is El, who is depicted as an aged person. Among
his titles are ‘judge,’ ‘father,’ and ʾab šnm (‘father of years’).”
Michael Heiser [21st century biblical scholar] likewise says: “Deuteronomy
32:7 references the ‘ages past’ and ‘the years of many generations’ which
correspond, respectively, to El’s description (ʿlm) and title ʾab šnm
(‘father of years’; KTU 1.3 v:2, 25; 1.4 v:4; 1.18 i:12) at Ugarit.”
Furthermore, there are key similarities between vv. 9–14 and other later
2nd Temple texts [1 Enoch 14:18–25 and 4Q530], because of their
dependence on Daniel’s book. In other words, since 1 Enoch 14:18–25
utilizes vv. 9–10, this demonstrates an early date for Daniel’s book,
because 1 Enoch 12–16 dates between 300–250 b.c. Furthermore, the
judgment is first negative [against the “little” horn of the 4th beast], and
then positive [in favour of the “Son of Man” figure]. This scene also
consists of multiple thrones in a heavenly setting, with the focus of
attention placed upon the Ancient of Days who sits as the supreme judge.
However, not all scholars are convinced that the scene is a heavenly one,
especially if this represents a final theophany in which the Ancient of Days
comes to earth for judgment in order to establish his divine throne–room.
But, other scholars conclude [from Qumranic literature] that the divine
“Son of Man” appears within a heavenly divine council sanctuary, and is
characterized as an individual who is equal to the Ancient of Days!
John Goldingay [21st century biblical scholar] says: “A number of
descriptions of God on his throne of fire surrounded by numerous
attendants locate the scene in the heavens (1 Kings 22:19–22; Psalm 82; 1
Enoch 14:18–22; 40:1; 60:1–2; 71; 91:15–16; Revelation 4–5). However,
where it is specifically a matter of God judging, the scene is normally on
earth (Jeremiah 49:38; Joel 3:1–2, 12; Zechariah 14:1–5; Psalm 50;
96:10–13; 1 Enoch 1:3–9; 25:3; 90:20–27). Here Daniel has been
watching a scene on earth, and the account gives no indication that the
scene has changed. Rather, the opening phrase of v. 9 implies a continuity
of perspective: Daniel continues to look in the direction he had been
looking. Setting up the thrones suggests an earthly location (in the
heavens they are already set up), as does the later talk of the one
advanced in years coming (v. 22).”
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Thus, the imagery is designed to depict the Ancient of Days acting in
judgment, and his heavenly court participates as witnesses. In the context
of Trinitarian theology, the “Ancient of Days” is the 1st Power/Yahweh
[the Father], while the “Son of Man” is the 2nd Power/Yahweh [the Son].
Hippolytus [3rd century] says: “The Ancient of Days is, for Daniel, nothing
more than the Lord, God and Master of all, the Father of Christ himself.”
Jerome [4th century] likewise says: “And so the many thrones that Daniel
saw seem to me to be what John called the 24 thrones. And the Ancient of
Days is the one who, according to John, sits alone on his throne.
Likewise the Son of Man, who came to the Ancient of Days, is the same as
he who, according to John, is called the lion of the tribe of Judah
[Revelation 5:5], the root of David and the titles of that sort. I imagine that
these thrones are the ones of which the apostle Paul says, ‘Whether
thrones or dominions’ [Colossians 1:16]. And in the gospel we read, ‘You
yourselves shall sit upon 12 thrones, judging the 12 tribes of Israel’
[Matthew 19:28]. God is called the one who sits and who is the Ancient of
Days, in order that his character as eternal judge might be indicated.”
Ambrose [4th century Bishop of Milan] concludes: “Let him then be
standing for you that you may not be afraid of him sitting; for when sitting
he judges, as Daniel says, ‘the thrones were placed, and the books were
opened, and the Ancient of Days did sit.’ But it is written, ‘God stood in
the congregation of gods and decides among the gods’ [Psalm 82:1]. So
then when he sits he judges, when he stands he decides, and he judges
concerning the imperfect but decides among the gods. Let him stand for
you as a defender, as a good shepherd, lest the fierce wolves assault you.”
Furthermore, his white vesture and hair like wool also stresses his
eternality and holiness [Isaiah 43:13; 57:15; Revelation 16:15], also as this
2nd Temple text asserts: “There I saw one who had a head of days, and his
head was like white wool, and with him was another, whose face was like
the appearance of a man; and his face was full of graciousness like one
of the holy angels.” [1 Enoch 46:1]
Thus, notice the contrast. The antichrist is blaspheming God [vv. 7–8], but
God is shown sitting upon his throne preparing for judgment [vv. 9–10].

The remainder of v. 9 describes the throne itself. It is aflame with fire,
including the “wheels” on which it is positioned, and since fire is
associated with God’s presence [Exodus 3:2; 19:16–18; Deuteronomy
33:2], notice the striking resemblance with the divine throne seen in
Ezekiel’s vision, since it also had wheels [Ezekiel 1:15–20; 10:9–17], and
had fire and lightning associated with it [Ezekiel 1:13, 27; 10:2, 6].
However, Daniel does not identify these other members of the heavenly
court, although elsewhere they are clearly divine beings who surround
God’s heavenly throne [1 Kings 22:19–22; Psalm 82:1]. In fact, the plural
pronouns in Genesis 1:26 is also a reference to this heavenly court. But,
the day will come when these same thrones will be occupied by Christians
[Matthew 19:28; Luke 22:30; 1 Corinthians 6:2; Revelation 3:21; 20:4].
This is possible because there is a hierarchy within God’s heavenly court.
In other words, all Mesopotamian religions knew of a tiered council of
divine beings with various responsibilities. For example, at Ugarit, the 1st
top–tier god was El [an aged god with a gray beard]. The 2nd tier involved
El’s son Baal [the cloud–rider storm god] who served as his vice–regent.
The 3rd and 4th tiers included craftsmen gods and servants, as seen here:
In contrast, Israel’s divine council had a hierarchy of an upper tier of
beings [those seated in the council], a servant class of heavenly beings, and
a vice–regent who was given authority over the earth and over all the sons
of God who rule the earth [Psalm 82:1, 6; Deuteronomy 4:19–20; 32:8–9].
However, notice that Israel’s divine council did not have a tier of
craftsmen gods. Instead, the Two Powers sat as the head of all the deities:
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Michael Heiser [21st century biblical scholar] summarizes this flowchart:
“In Israel’s divine council, the highest tier is different from the
Canaanites’ conception. Instead of El and Baal, his vice–regent, Yahweh
occupied both slots in a sort of binitarian godhead. Yahweh is described
by means of titles and abilities that both El and Baal have in Canaanite
literature—these two were conceptually fused in Yahweh. This literary
and theological device shows Yahweh superior to the two main divine
authority figures in wider Canaanite religion. The way Yahweh filled the
positions both of supreme ruler and vice–regent is also shown by his
occasional visible appearances. For example, the Angel of Yahweh is
sometimes indistinguishable from Yahweh (Exodus 3:1–14). The Angel is
said to have Yahweh’s ‘Name’ in him (Exodus 23:20–23). Scholars have
long noted the presence of this ‘name’ theology where the name is
another way of referring to Yahweh himself. Thus, Yahweh was in the
Angel, and yet Yahweh and the Angel could be simultaneously present
(Judges 6). Both the God of Israel and the Angel are said to have brought
Israel out of Egypt (Judges 2:1–3; 1 Samuel 8:8; Micah 6:4)—an
observation that makes Deuteronomy 4:37 an important consideration for
binitarianism, since that verse tells us the ‘presence’ of Yahweh was
responsible for the deliverance from Egypt. The divine presence must be
understood as Yahweh himself, his ‘essence’ as it were. The angel (as co–
regent) fills Baal’s role as El’s warrior. It is the angel who led Israel to
the promised land as the captain of the Lord’s host, ‘sword drawn in his
hand,’ a precise description found in only two other places, and both of
which describe the angel of Yahweh (Numbers 22:23; 1 Chronicles 21:16).

The result is that, while orthodox Yahwism could not accommodate cosmic
rule being shared by two separate and distinct deities (El and Baal), it
could tolerate Yahweh in two personages. That the angel had the
presence/name/essence of Yahweh in him, but was a distinct personage,
meant he was but wasn’t Yahweh. Furthermore, many scholars have
pointed out that there is a discernible hierarchy within the divine council.
All council members, including Yahweh, are heavenly spirit beings (rûḥôṯ;
šamayim; ʾelōh m). The hierarchy referred to here is not to be
superimposed on theological terms like Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
Since all members of the Trinity are of the same essence, the godhead
forms and occupies the highest tier of the council. However, a careful
comparison of the council terminology sketched here with texts from
ancient Canaan, particularly Ugarit, and the terms ‘sons of God’ (ben
haʾelōh m/ʾēl m) and ‘angel’ (malʾāk), allows one to discern three tiers
within the council. The term ‘prince’ (sar) is also relevant for hierarchy.
Not all members of the heavenly host bear this title. The ‘princes’ of the
supernatural realm are to be identified with the ‘sons of God’ assigned to
the nations of the world in divine judgment by the Most High
(Deuteronomy 32:8–9). The sons of God allotted to the nations, the divine
princes of Daniel, are the conceptual point of origin for Paul’s
terminology of geographical rulership in the New Testament (terms such
as ‘principalities,’ ‘powers,’ ‘rulers,’ ‘thrones,’ ‘dominions,’ and
‘authorities’). These are the ‘princes’ over nations that oppose Yahweh
and his people (Daniel 10:13, 20). These sons of the Most High are later
judged for corruption and rebellion in Psalm 82, thereby defecting from
Yahweh’s service. Divine beings in a hostile adversarial relationship to
Yahweh are by definition no longer in his service. While still being part of
the spiritual world, membership in Yahweh’s council means obedient
service to him. Divine beings such as Satan and the fallen sons of God of
Genesis 6:1–4 and Deuteronomy 32:8 are now under judgment and no
longer part of how God administers his sovereign oversight. More
positively, the princely terminology is used to describe the ‘commander
(sar) of the army of the Lord’ (Joshua 5:14). The term ‘chief princes’
obviously suggests tiered authority. Michael, the ‘prince’ of Israel (Daniel
10:21; 12:1) is one of the ‘chief princes’ (Daniel 10:13). The origin of
this ‘prince’ idea is to be sought in the ancient Near Eastern concept of
the divine council. The existence of national deities is assumed in the
Rabshakeh’s taunt: ‘Who among all the gods of the countries have
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delivered their countries out of my hand that the Lord should deliver
Jerusalem out of my hand?’ (2 Kings 18:35 = Isaiah 36:20). Detailed
discussions of the evidence for the hierarchal structure within the divine
council may be found elsewhere. Most scholars see four tiers in the
council of Ugarit but note that evidence for a 4th tier in Israel is quite
weak. ‘Sons of God’ is familial language. ‘Angel’ is the English
translation of Hebrew malʾak (‘messenger’). This language is intentional.
Sonship language in the context of royal ideology conveyed the notion of
high–ranking administration. The children of the king were not mere
messengers; they outranked messengers. The sons of the king were an
elite level of authority; they were extensions of kingly authority, granted
that status by the king himself. The king’s governance would include
hundreds, and even thousands, of individuals, but authority was tiered.
Family members (immediate and extended) had high ranking. The
hierarchy of the divine council is illustrated by the functional terminology
for the members of God’s heavenly host. Thus, one of the more explicit
divine council texts in the Old Testament is in Daniel 7, and there are
multiple thrones in this heavenly scene, along with the single throne
occupied by the Ancient of Days, the God of Israel. In fact, Daniel 7 was
a crucial passage for the Two Powers doctrine in 2nd Temple Judaism
prior to Christianity. Judaism eventually declared the Two Powers
doctrine heretical as it was a useful apologetic for the Christian belief in
Jesus as God. Consequently, rabbis tried to argue that there were only two
thrones in Daniel 7, one for God and one for King David. This idea fails
for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that the 2nd figure that
is specifically named in the scene (the ‘Son of Man’) neither takes a seat
nor has one offered to him when he approaches the Ancient of Days, and
Daniel 7 actually follows literarily a divine council scene in the Ugaritic
Baal Cycle. It also cannot be argued that the plural seats are for human
Jewish elders, since the court/council in Daniel 7 is clearly in heaven
and is making a decision for the human holy people at the time when the
kingdom of the Son of Man is established (v. 22). There is a clear
reference to the council—the word translated ‘court’ here refers to a
judicial body, and the seated Ancient of Days (v. 9) is obviously the leader
of the council. But ‘thrones’ are set in place for at least some members of
the council (v. 10). Multitudes of the host are also said to be standing (v.
10). Thus, the plural thrones are not, as Jewish tradition wants to argue,
for the messianic Son of Man and the Ancient of Days. While the latter is

seated, at no point does the Son of Man sit. There is clearly a council in
session and multiple thrones, not merely two and one unoccupied! The
council members occupying the other thrones are part of the decision–
making process. This is quite evident from v. 26: ‘But the court shall sit in
judgment, and his dominion shall be taken away, to be consumed and
destroyed to the end.’ The verdict on the 4th beast is connected to the
court sitting in judgment. The seated council in vv. 9–10 is therefore not
just window dressing. In ancient Israelite thought, the party (or parties)
seated in an assembled meeting had decision–making authority. However,
some scholars have used Old Testament ‘standing’ vocabulary to Psalm
82 to argue that the psalm is proof of Israelite polytheism. The argument
can be summarized as follows: The ‘God’ (ʾelōh m) who ‘stands’ (niṣṣāb)
in the divine council ( adat ʾēl) is not the ‘Most High’ (ʾēl– elyōn) of v. 6.
Elyon was, so the argument goes, an epithet of El, and so the deity of v. 1
bringing accusation is not the one who ran the council. The unnamed deity
of v. 1 who ‘stands’ is Yahweh. He is bringing accusation against the ‘sons
of the Most High’ who are corrupt (vv. 2–5). The judge of the council is
El–Elyon. Consequently, Yahweh and El–Elyon are not the same, and
Israelite religion had a higher god than Yahweh. The argument is based
on several assumptions: (1) That Elyon is seated as judge in the council
and the ‘standing’ Yahweh is acting as prosecutor in the divine council;
(2) in legal settings, judges always sit; (3) Yahweh could not be both
prosecutor and judge in the divine council. The data marshalled to create
the picture is actually not consistent. God is depicted as standing to judge
(Isaiah 3:13; Amos 7:7–9; 9:1–4). Elsewhere, Yahweh is a seated judge
(Psalm 7:6; 9:19; 94:2), and so it is possible to see Yahweh as both the
standing deity (ʾelōh m) of v. 1 and the deity asked to rise up (which
requires a seated position) in v. 8. The approach advocated here lets the
text stand as it is, in the context of the wider Old Testament. The biblical
writers explicitly identify Yahweh and El (2 Samuel 22:31–32; Psalm
10:12; 18:2; 31:5; 50:1; 118:27). Why would someone read Psalm 82 in
a way that avoids these other passages and this explicit identification?
The answer is that the idea of an evolution from polytheism to monotheism
is presumed and brought to the passage. That is, texts are read through the
filter of this assumption, not in the wider canonical context. The
evolutionary presumption itself is based on circular reasoning. Thus, the
seated posture of the council expresses a participatory role. The council
neither acts alone nor without a head. They are not autonomous.”
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Then v. 10 begins by describing a “river” of flowing fire associated with
the Ancient of Days, and this is imagery unique to Daniel’s book in the
Old Testament, either coming from him or flowing before him. Its purpose
is for bringing punishment on those whom he judges [Psalm 50:3; 97:3].
Fire is used elsewhere as a symbol of God’s judgment, as though
destroying everything in its path [Isaiah 66:15–16; Jeremiah 21:12;
Ezekiel 21:31; Revelation 19:20; 20:10]. Thus, the Ancient of Days is
surrounded by “thousands” who serve him and “millions” who wait upon
him [Revelation 5:11]. This awesome army of holy divine beings is there
to serve God who sits upon his throne. Furthermore, they witness the
judgment he renders and the “books” that are opened, or the record of the
works and ungodly acts of unbelievers, which they will be confronted with
at the eschaton. In fact, 2nd Temple texts make reference to books that
record the deeds of men during their time on earth as well as the good
things and honour in store for those who died in righteousness [1 Enoch
81; 93:1–3; 103:2]. They stand as something of a counterpart to the “scroll
of remembrance” [Malachi 3:16] that has the names of those who feared
God and esteemed his name. So, the records in these “books” present the
evidence that they do not measure up to God’s righteousness. Those who
reject the atoning sacrifice of Jesus are essentially placing their hope in
their own deficient righteousness. Jesus has indeed paid the price for the
sins of all men, even of those who reject him [1 John 2:2], but their
unrighteousness remains on record.
John Goldingay [21st century biblical scholar] continues: “The thousands
and myriads of courtiers attend upon the one advanced in years
(Deuteronomy 33:2; 1 Kings 22:19; Psalm 68:17). It is not they who are to
be judged (1 Enoch 1:9). They are God’s heavenly army, though their
military role is not in focus here. The notion of books being consulted
again has its background in the life of the royal court, which necessarily
keeps records of events and decisions (Ezra 4:15; Esther 6:1). This feature
of court practice is naturally included when the royal–court image is used
to picture the workings of heaven. God’s books sometimes record God’s
purposes regarding the final issues of history or regarding particular
segments of history (Daniel 8:26; 9:24; 10:21; 12:4, 9). They sometimes
record God’s expectations of human conduct and his intentions regarding
the judgment of humanity in light of how far they fulfil these expectations,
or fail to do so (1 Enoch 81; 93:1–3; 103:2). Any of these significances

might be relevant in the present context; the idea of books that contain a
citizen list, a list of the people who belong to God (Daniel 12:1), or that
record people’s deeds and afflictions seems less relevant here. The people
whose names would be in God’s book have not yet come into focus in the
vision, while the deeds that are to be judged are the ones before our eyes
in the vision, not ones recorded in books. The scene is not a great assize
when judgment is passed on all human beings individually.”
Theodoret [5th century Bishop of Cyr] says: “It is fitting for us to know that
God is incorporeal, simple and without form and that he admits of no
circumscription. Although it pertains to his nature not to be able to be
circumscribed, very often to help us he makes use of visions, whenever
he wills. And one can see that he appears to Abraham in one way, to
Moses in another and to Isaiah in yet another; likewise, he showed Ezekiel
still a different appearance. Therefore, whenever you see the variety of
revelation, do not think that God has many forms, but rather listen to
God as he speaks through the prophet Hosea: ‘I multiplied the visions, and
I was proclaimed in parables in the warnings of the prophets’ [Hosea
12:10]. He said, ‘I adopted likenesses,’ not ‘I appeared.’ He fashions in a
vision however it suits him. So too blessed Ezekiel, when he had at length
pondered on him whom he had seen to consist of gold and fire, added as
he narrated the vision, ‘These things are an image of the glory of the Lord’
[Ezekiel 1:28]. And he did not say that he had seen the Lord or even the
Lord’s glory but rather something resembling the glory of the Lord.
Through the throne, wheels, and river, God’s nature is revealed as secure
and liable to no reproach; and through the word ‘ancient’ his eternity,
wisdom, and clemency are told. Therefore, he affixed the rest of the time
to be a time of judgment, and he unfolded the memory of all the deeds done
by each and every person. He calls the memory about each person ‘the
books.’ This refers to the promise of the Lord made to his apostles,
‘Twelve thrones will be placed, and you will sit down and judge the
twelve tribes of Israel’ [Matthew 19:28].”
Chrysostom [4th century Bishop of Constantinople] concludes: “Are they
not the thrones concerning which our Lord said, ‘You will sit on twelve
thrones’ [Matthew 19:28]? Beloved, do not imagine God as having
anything like a body, and do not think that God, who is boundless, can
be confined to a throne. For if ‘in his hands are the boundaries of the
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earth,’ and if ‘he erected the mountains,’ and if ‘all the nations are
reckoned as spittle in his sight’ and if ‘all things are as dust before him’
[Isaiah 40:12, 15], as he himself says, what place would be able to enclose
him altogether at one time? What shall we say? The state of affairs cannot
be exactly as it is described; God is not confined to a throne. If he was
wearing clothing, how would fire not consume it? And why is that one
called the Ancient of Days, when he existed before all ages? In what way
can he even be said to be ancient, since the scripture says, ‘You are
always the same’ [Psalm 102:27]. Why then is he called ancient, when it is
written, ‘And your years will not come to an end?’ And what would be the
garment to be cast around a boundless and incorporeal being? For it says,
‘There is no end to his greatness’ [Psalm 145:3]. And again, ‘If I ascend
into heaven, you are there; if I descend into hell, you are there’ [Psalm
139:8]. How then can he be restrained by human clothing and yet not
consume it? But truly the prophet was able to see and read many other
things of this type. How were his hairs not burned with fire? Let us strive
with our minds to understand, beloved, for it is no small matter that we are
discussing. He says, ‘Thrones were set, and the Ancient of Days was
seated.’ Who is he? When you heard about a bear, you did not think about
a bear; when you heard about a lioness, you did not perceive that animal
but rather kingdoms; and when you heard about the sea, you did not
perceive a sea but rather the world. Each time you thought of something
else as being present in those images. That is also the case now. What is
an Ancient of Days? He is similar to an old man. Now this old man takes
shape for the purposes for which he appears. And here he shows that old
men must be entrusted with rendering judgment. For just as when you hear
the word ‘throne,’ you do not understand it to mean a mere chair—for who
would lay hold of such a base and vulgar meaning, when God seems fully
armed here and bloodthirsty there? So he wishes this to mean that it is a
time for judgment. ‘His clothing was white as snow.’ Why? It is not only a
time of judgment but also retribution. All those must stand before him
because ‘his judgment will go forth like the light’ [Hosea 6:5].”
Next in vv. 11–12, we read: “I continued watching because of the
audacious words that the horn was speaking. I kept observing until the
animal was killed and its body destroyed and given over to burning fire.
Now as to the other animals, their authority was removed, but they were
granted a reprieve from execution for an appointed period of time.”

Now Daniel shifts back to the 4th beast focusing on the judgment that is
rendered due to the arrogance and boastful words of the “little” horn [v. 8].
Notice that Daniel says “I kept observing until the animal was killed and
its body destroyed and given over to burning fire.” Since this beast is
differentiated from the first three [v. 12], this means the “little” horn is the
final manifestation of the 4th beast [the Roman Empire], and this would
imply that the 4th beast is not finished until the “little” horn is killed and
destroyed at the 2nd coming of Jesus. So, having mentioned the demise of
the 4th beast in v. 11, the fate of the first three beasts receives comment in
v. 12 as something of a parenthetical remark. In each case, these kingdoms
came to a point where they lost their dominion or authority [like Babylon
in 539 b.c. when it was conquered by Cyrus the Great of Medo–Persia].
However, despite the loss of authority, these kingdoms “were granted a
reprieve from execution for an appointed period of time.” In other words,
except for the 4th kingdom that has an abrupt end when the antichrist is
killed, the other three kingdoms experience an extension of life. Although
their authority to rule is removed, the people and culture of each kingdom
is absorbed into the next empire for some duration of time by God’s grace,
bowing and serving the “Son of Man” in his final kingdom [later in v. 27].
Eugene Carpenter [21st century biblical scholar] summarizes the details:
“Ancient historians emphasized the ways that the Roman Empire
surpassed all other kingdoms in dominion, splendour of achievements,
length of reign, and brutality. The successful Greek army with its
phalanxes and its strategies was effective in its day, but when the
disciplined and highly equipped Roman legions appeared, all enemies
succumbed to them. Rome ruled every country in the civilized world; on
land and sea, Rome was supreme. Even though the Romans conquered the
other kingdoms, especially Greece, the Greeks reciprocated by conquering
the Romans culturally and philosophically—even religiously, to a great
extent, a process that was aided by the Romans’ avid accommodation to
the influential Greeks in the time of Augustus. The Roman Empire arose
farther west than the other empires, making it significantly different.
Dionysius of Halicarnassus wrote that Rome was the greatest empire and
military machine the world had ever experienced (Roman Antiquities 1.2–
5). Few, if any, would challenge this assessment. Greece has been shown
to have had significant contact with the eastern kingdoms (especially
Egypt), resulting in reciprocal lines of influence. The culture, religion, and
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philosophy of the Babylonian and Persian Empires similarly infiltrated the
Roman Empire, influencing the remaining civilizations even after the
‘eternal’ city’s empire was defunct. But this symbolic kingdom suggests
further a final kingdom beyond Rome; yet, much like Rome, it comes
under the dominance of the last little horn (Daniel 8:9–14; 9:25–27;
11:21–45; 12:1–7). The symbol of the little horn of v. 8 appears at the end
of the 4th kingdom—that is, at the end of the apocalyptic eschatological
historical process. Although in Daniel’s book it is presented first, it has
forerunners that precede it historically. The little horn of Daniel 8,
symbolizing Antiochus Epiphanes (175–163 BC), is one such forerunner
(Daniel 11:40–45; 12:11–12). Daniel 9:26–27 describes a powerful
person of evil who ushers in horrible devastation; he seems to come after
Antiochus and yet also serves as a forerunner to the little horn of v. 8. It
should be noted that the figure of Daniel 9:26–27 and Daniel 11:36–45 is
opposed by Michael, the archangel, who ushers in the end (Daniel 10:13;
12:1) with an unprecedented time of violence that concludes with the
resurrection of the dead. So the little horn of v. 8 is foreshadowed in
historical circumstances in the person described in Daniel 8:9–14 and in
Daniel 11:21–35 (and possibly in the person described in Daniel 9:26–27,
but this person seems further to foreshadow an event in the future). There
seem to be historical events and persons of the Roman Empire who also
foreshadow the little horn of v. 8 but do not exhaust the realities behind
its image; these, too, qualify as forerunners of the final appearance of
the abominable little horn (vv. 8, 19–28). The historical empire of Rome
was archetypal, pointing to something beyond itself. The Roman poet
Virgil has the chief god Jupiter declare regarding Rome, ‘I set no bounds
in space or time; but have given empire without end’ (Aeneid 1.278–279).
Cicero had hoped that the Roman republic would ‘live forever and our
empire to be without end.’ John’s book appropriates and develops the
imagery concerning the beasts. Indeed, the beast introduced in Revelation
13:1 is a composite of the beasts of Daniel 7 and more, for it asserts that
the beast was empowered by the dragon (Revelation 12:9; 13:2, 4; 20:10).
The beast in Revelation 13 embodies all of the evil spiritual forces that
energized the horrific beasts and arrogant little horn of Daniel 7.”
Jerome [4th century] concludes: “In the one empire of the Romans, all the
kingdoms at once are to be destroyed, because of the blasphemy of the
antichrist, and the succeeding empire is simply the abode of the saints.”
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Finally in vv. 13–14, we read: “I continued to observe the night vision— 5. There is no conclusive evidence that the phrase “Son of Man” was
and look!—someone like the Son of Man was coming, accompanied by understood in 2nd Temple Judaism to be a messianic title.
heavenly clouds. He approached the Ancient of Days and was presented
before him. To him dominion was bestowed, along with glory and a So, at the heart of this scholarly debate is the question of whether or not
kingdom, so that all people, nations, and languages are to serve him. His there was a stable and generally accepted set of beliefs regarding
dominion is an everlasting dominion—it will never pass away—and his messianism during the 2nd Temple period, and to what extent this “Son of
kingdom is one that will never be destroyed.” Man” was associated with this hope. However, this is not to say that there
is no evidence of the expression “Son of Man” being used messianically
Following the slaying of the “little” horn [the antichrist], the positive prior to the ministry of Jesus, as demonstrated in these 2nd Temple texts:
aspect of the judgment scene emerges when a certain individual called the
“Son of Man” is exalted to receive a kingdom. The Aramaic kᵊḇar ʾĕnāš 1. The Aramaic Apocalypse [4Q246]
[for “someone like the Son of Man”] is functionally equivalent to the This Qumran fragment from Cave 4 and possibly dates to 25 b.c.,
Hebrew ben ʾĕnôš [Psalm 144:3] and ben ʾāḏām [or “son of man”], which but its language closely matches Daniel 7, which means this text
basically means “human” [Numbers 23:19; Psalm 8:4; Isaiah 51:12; 56:2]. did not originate from the Qumran sectarian community.
In fact, Daniel will be addressed as “son of man” [later in Daniel 8:17], but
scholars debate if this referent here is an individual [in a messianic way].
In other words, critical scholars attempt to make a point of the preceding
comparative kᵊ [for “like”], insisting that this figure was symbolic, like the
animal figures introduced earlier with kᵊ [vv. 4, 6]. However, the particle kᵊ
can mean that he is “like” a human, but significantly different to humans.
Thus, after extensive scholarly debate on the identity of the “Son of Man,”
most have concluded that an individual was in view, specifically because
this phrase was the primary self–designation that Jesus gave himself!
Nevertheless, here is a summary as to why this is a complicated issue:

1. The phrase “Son of Man” in v. 13 is anarthrous, whereas Jesus

spoke of himself as “the Son of Man,” and critical scholars have
questioned whether Jesus even intended a connection to vv. 13–14.

2. Daniel wrote vv. 13–14 in Aramaic, and although Jesus spoke in

Aramaic in Mark 14:62 [his clearest allusion to vv. 13–14], the
phrase “the Son of Man” in the New Testament is written in Greek.
3. The phrase “son of man” was a commonly used expression in the
Old Testament for a human [Psalm 8:4] or a prophet [Ezekiel 2:1].
4. There is tension between v. 14 [the “Son of Man” will be given a
kingdom], and v. 18 [the “saints” will receive the kingdom].
The fragment contains references to one who is “son of God” and
“son of the Most High,” possibly referring to a messianic figure!
The fragment also speaks of a period of tribulation followed by an
eschatological period in which God will establish an eternal
kingdom and will support his people. Furthermore, the fragment
consists of two columns.

The 1st column is damaged, but the endings of lines 1–9 survived:
Column I
1 […] settled upon him. He fell before the throne.
2 […] the eternal King. Rage is coming and your years.
3 […] your vision, and everything will come for eternity.
4 […] wars; oppression will come over/upon the earth.
5 […] and great slaughter in the cities.
6 […] kings of Assyria and Egypt.
7 […] will be great over/upon the earth.
8 […] they will serve and everything will obey.
9 […] the great, will he call himself and by his name he shall
designate himself.
So, although very little can be said of its larger context, in the
opening lines, a Daniel–like figure [who remains unnamed in the
extant manuscript] falls before a throne in order to interpret a
king’s vision [lines 1–3; recall Daniel 2; 4–5]. The subsequent
interpretation speaks of a time of “great slaughter” and
“oppression” [lines 4–5]. Then line 6 introduces the “kings of
Assyria and Egypt” [representing the Seleucid and Ptolemaic
empires]. Then the final lines speak of an individual who will arise
and be “great over/upon the earth” [lines 7–8]. This figure will be
known as “great” and designated by “his name” [line 9]. Thus,
next is the 2nd column that is undamaged, also involving lines 1–9:
Column II
1 He shall be appointed the son of God, they shall call him son of
the Most High. Like the meteors
2 which you saw, so shall their kingdom be. For some years they
shall be kings over
3 the earth and trample everything down: people shall trample
down people, and cities shall trample down cities.
vacat
4 Until the people of God shall rise and everything shall rest from
the sword.
5 His/their kingdom shall be an everlasting kingdom, and all
his/their paths in truth, and he/they shall judge
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6 the earth in truth and all will do/make peace. The sword will
end/cease from the earth,
7 and all the cities will worship him/them. The great God is
his/their strength;
8 he himself will wage war for him/them. He will give nations in
his/their hand and
9 cast them all down before him/them. His/their dominion shall be
an everlasting dominion, and all the deeps of […]
So, the 1st line speaks of the figure from the 1st column, referring to
him as the “son of God” and the “son of the Most High.” The
following lines shift to the plural, describing the time of great
distress referenced in the 1st column [lines 2–3]. Then the scribe
leaves a vacat [an intentional space] before line 4 that appears to
indicate a transition in topic. Then the contents of lines 4–9 seem to
be hinged on the appearance of the “people of God” who
correspond to Daniel’s mention of “the people who are the saints
of the Highest One” [later in v. 27]. In fact, scholars points to two
additional clearer points of reference between Daniel and 4Q246:
a) The statement “his/their kingdom shall be an everlasting
kingdom” [line 5] mirrors Daniel 4:3.
b) The statement “his/their dominion shall be an everlasting
dominion” [line 9] corresponds with Daniel 4:34; 7:14.
Thus, lines 5–9 deals with the eschatological period in which God
will make peace and war on behalf of his people. Nevertheless, the
correct interpretation of this Qumran text is debated, and scholars
have provided six difficulties for interpreting the text:
a) Who is the speaker, and whom does he address?
b) Are the “kings of Assyria and Egypt” and its plurals allusions to
historical figures, or are they symbolic names for enemies?
c) If they are to be taken in an apocalyptic sense, can one say to
whom they refer?

d) Who is the person who will arise and given those titles?
e) Is this person to be understood in a positive sense [as a Jewish
king] or a negative sense [an enemy who arrogates such titles]?
f) To whom does the 3rd singular masculine in lines 5–9 refer? Is
it the person in line 9 of the 1st column, or the “people of God”
in line 4 of the 2nd column?
So, scholars ultimately focus on the identity of the “son of God”
and whether this individual is a positive or negative figure. In other
words, those who hold to a positive identification argue that he is a
coming messianic figure/king who is either a descendant of the
enthroned king [from the throne of David], or an eschatological
liberator in relation to Melchizedek [11Q13] and the “Son of Man”
[vv. 13–14]. Although the phrases “son of God” and “son of the
Most High” parallel the identification of Jesus [Luke 1:32–35], the
messianic identification in this text is not explicit, because the
phrase “son of God” was commonly used for kings early in the
Hellenistic period. Furthermore, even if the “son of God” is a
positive figure, it remains unclear how Luke’s gospel is related,
since the larger context of 4Q246 is missing, as seen in this chart:
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Thus, those who hold to a negative identification argue that he is a
historical figure [a son of Antiochus IV Epiphanes], or the future
antichrist [who proclaims himself to be worshiped as a god].
Karl Allen Kuhn [21st century New Testament scholar] explains:
“Most scholars investigating the fragment have noted the
similarities between the Aramaic Apocalypse and Daniel 7, and
have explained the shared features of these two texts as stemming
from the influence of the canonical book on 4Q246. For instance,
Collins states concerning 4Q246 that ‘a relationship to Daniel’s
book is apparent at a number of points’ and he dates it to the early
2nd century b.c. Milik, Puech, and Fitzmyer agree that on
paleographic grounds the extant fragment to be dated to the last
third of the 1st century BCE. However, fewer have gone on to
propose that the Son of God figure of the Aramaic Apocalypse
should be regarded as an interpretation of Daniel’s ‘one like a son
of man.’ For example, Collins concludes, as I do here, that ‘we feel
stimulated both by the language and the content of the text to see it
as a new interpretation and application of Daniel 7 in the
apocalyptic sense’ and accordingly sees ‘Son of the Most High’
and ‘Son of God’ as referring to the heavenly ‘one like a son of
man’ in Daniel 7. Nonetheless, a close look at the two texts
reveals such an extensive degree of verbal, thematic, and
structural correspondence that it is difficult to imagine that the
writer of 4Q246 did not intend the figure it designates as the ‘Son
of God’ and ‘Son of the Most High’ to be recasting Daniel's ‘one
like a son of man.’ The most striking verbal parallels between
Daniel 7 and the Apocalypse consist of the two phrases, ‘whose
dominion is an everlasting dominion’ (v. 14; 4Q246 2:9) and
‘his/its kingdom will be an everlasting kingdom’ (v. 27; 4Q246
2:5). The forms of these statements are exactly the same in both
texts. Although each occurs elsewhere in Daniel 4:3, 34, the
several additional correspondences between the Aramaic
Apocalypse and Daniel 7 confirm that this later chapter of Daniel
is the text that stands in the background. Outside of Daniel, neither
of these constructions appears as it does in 4Q246, with the
exception of Psalm 145:13. The psalm provides nearly an exact
parallel to v. 27 and 4Q246 2:5b. It reads: ‘Your kingdom is an

everlasting kingdom, and your dominion endures throughout all
generations.’ However, there are no additional parallels between
the psalm and 4Q246, making it a far less likely candidate than
Daniel 7 to be the source for the Dead Sea text. The verb
‘trampling’ supplements these two verbal correspondences (v. 23;
4Q246 2:3), as do a host of close thematic parallels. These consist
of the destruction wrought by God’s enemies, the sudden
appearance of an eschatological redeemer, the subjugation of
God’s people for a time, the rising of the people of God, and the
homage of the nations. In addition to these verbal and thematic
parallels, the apocalypses unfold in a markedly similar manner,
beginning with an introduction of the apocalyptist followed by a
series of three accounts, each of which depicts the overthrow of the
beasts/provinces and the giving of dominion to an individual figure
and/or the people of God. First, following the prologue, both begin
with a description of distress and destruction resolved by God’s
intervention and the coming of God’s agent: in Daniel, the ‘one
like a son of man,’ and in 4Q246, the ‘Son of God, Son of the Most
High’ (vv. 4–14; 4Q246 1:4–2:1). Second, the first account is
followed by a second, again depicting the dominion of the evil
beasts/peoples until the people of God arise and gain possession of
the kingdom (vv. 15–22; 4Q246 2:1–7). Third, both texts conclude
with still another rehearsal of the overthrow of the beasts/peoples
who oppose God’s people (vv. 23–28; 4Q246 2:7– 9). Admittedly,
it is possible that 4Q246 2:7–9 merely continues the description of
the preceding lines and does not offer yet another recapitulation of
the overthrow of God’s enemies. However, it seems that lines 6–7,
ending with ‘the sword will vanish from the land and all provinces
shall pay him/them homage,’ have a note of finality from which the
subsequent description of God’s ‘waging war for them/him’ does
not directly follow. Thus, the parallel triadic rehearsal of the
defeat of God’s enemies shared by Daniel 7 and 4Q246 gives
further warrant to the claim argued here that 4Q246 offers a
recasting of Daniel’s ‘one like a son of man.’ It also speaks
strongly against interpretations that see the figure designated as
‘Son of God’ as an enemy of God and God’s people. In contrast,
Puech argues that it is only with the interval signalled by the
vacats enveloping 2:4 that the apocalypse shifts to announcing
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God’s victory over evil. Puech states, ‘I have emphasized over and
over again the difficulty of introducing a positive figure or
character in the well–planned paratactic structure before the two
intervals of 2:4 by which the scribe had intentionally indicated
some important changes.’ Hence, everything prior to that point is
speaking of the reigns of the kings of Egypt and Assyria, including
Antiochus and his predecessors, who blasphemously refer to
themselves as ‘Son of God’ or ‘Son of the Most High’ (2:1). It is
they who rule the earth and trample all (2:2–3) until ‘the people of
God arise’ (2:4). Puech adds, ‘This way of understanding the
general structure and interpreting the contents is the only
acceptable one, excluding any messianic or positive interpretation
in the middle of a negative presentation.’ However, Puech’s
assertion rests on the assumption that the apocalypse must unfold
in a strictly linear fashion, with the turning point in the fortunes of
God’s people announced beginning only in 2:4. This need not be
the case. As Zimmermann points out, ‘if a correct temporal
sequence was involved, we would not expect to find, after the
description of the rule of peace in 11:4–7 (which encompasses the
establishment of peace for all and the ‘removal of the sword’) the
subject of wars and subjugation being brought up again, as is the
case in 11:7–8.’ Indeed, the close structural parallels between
Daniel 7 and the fragment (presenting a series of accounts
depicting the overthrow of God’s enemies) indicate otherwise.
The nature and extent of the correspondences between these two
texts indicate that the writer of the Aramaic Apocalypse intended to
recast Daniel’s ‘one like a son of man’ as a figure to be known by
the titles ‘Son of the Most High’ and ‘Son of God.’ Such a
recasting suggests two significant developments in the portrayal of
this eschatological redeemer. First, these titles present him in the
royal tradition of the Davidic kingship. That the royal tradition is
here in view is also argued by Fitzmyer, Kim, Collins, Cross, and
Zimmermann. The latter four scholars all consider the character to
be presented as a Davidic and messianic redeemer by virtue of the
title ‘Son of God,’ which they take as an allusion to 2 Samuel 7:14,
Psalm 2:7–8, and Psalm 89:26–27. Collins also cites parallels
from the Florilegium (4Q174), in which an exposition of 2
Samuel 7:14 identifies the figure referred to as ‘my son’ as the

‘Branch of David,’ and the Patriarchal Blessings (4Q252), in
which the ‘Branch’ is called the ‘Messiah of Righteousness.’
Fitzmyer, while rejecting the messianic interpretation, concludes
that this apocalyptic text speaks ‘positively of a coming Jewish
ruler, perhaps a member of the Hasmonean dynasty, who will be a
successor to the Davidic throne.’ A second element introduced by
4Q246 in its recasting of the Danielic figure (and the one more
crucial to the present discussion) also resides in the author’s use of
the titles ‘Son of God’ and ‘Son of the Most High.’ In adopting the
language of these earlier royal traditions and forming it into a
pair of titles, ‘he shall be called ... he will be named’ (2:1), the
author has focused attention on the divine sonship of the
redeemer figure as a central feature of his personhood. This
raises the question of what exactly such expressions of ‘divine
sonship’ were meant to convey. Collins argues that the titles simply
continue to present the ‘adoptionist sonship’ presented in 2 Samuel
7, Psalm 2, and Psalm 89, while implying a special relationship to
the deity. Yet the titular use of these expressions suggests that
something other than adoptionist divine sonship may be in view.
Beyond connecting Daniel’s transcendent ‘one like a son of man’
to the royal Davidic tradition, the titular form of these designations
may also be meant to emphasize the exalted and unique character
of the awaited redeemer. He is to be seen not merely as the
adopted son of Yahweh as the other kings before him, but as the
unique and transcendent divine Son, through whom God’s
salvation is finally to achieve victory among God’s people. Two
additional factors commend this way of regarding the function of
the titles in 4Q246. First, the transcendence of the figure portrayed
in 4Q246 is suggested already by the fact that the fragment is
recasting the heavenly (transcendent) personage of Daniel 7. The
figure himself appears to be in command of his transport and is
said to be coming ‘with clouds of heaven’ rather than ‘up to’
heaven. The author of the fragment further signals the wish to
maintain this sense by also attributing to the redeemer of 4Q246 an
eternal kingdom. Second, the portrayal of an eschatological
redeemer as uniquely transcendent, and even as possessing
characteristics that are normally assigned only to God in Hebrew
tradition, is not out of character for Jewish writings of this era. In
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fact, 4Q246 appears to belong to a trajectory of Jewish apocalyptic
tradition that presents Daniel’s ‘one like a son of man’ as
possessing quasi–divine characteristics. The Dead Sea fragment
shares with these other texts a host of details concerning the
character of the awaited figure, recasting Daniel’s eschatological
agent of salvation in starkly exalted terms. Although the
conceptions of pre–existence and object of worship are not explicit
in its fragmentary remains, 4Q246 reveals its affinity to these
other instances of the tradition of ‘one like a son of man’ by
similarly containing references to Daniel’s redeemer as
vindicator, messiah, judge, universal king, and one who
overthrows evil powers. The correspondences of 4Q246 to these
traditions emphasizing the transcendent and exalted character of
the redeemer it proclaims provide additional credence to what may
be discerned by the use of the titles ‘Son of God’ and ‘Son of the
Most High’ in 4Q246, that is, the author’s interest in drawing out
the uniquely exalted aspects of the redeemer’s character by
identifying him as the peerless and powerful divine son whose
dominion will last forever. If so, the significance of this observation
is worth noting. It is here in the Aramaic Apocalypse that we first
find in extant sources the complex combination of Daniel’s
heavenly redeemer wrapped in the mantle of Davidic (messianic)
royal tradition and uniquely transcendent divine sonship.”
Thus, even more fascinating is that this clear identification of the
“Son of Man” with the 2nd Power/Yahweh has forced other scholars
to conclude that Daniel has reused language and themes from
Deuteronomy 32:8–9 and Psalm 82! In other words, within the
context of the Two Powers motif, all three passages [Deuteronomy
32, Psalm 82, and Daniel 7] share a theological–cosmological
picture of a senior deity with a junior deity [or in later Trinitarian
theology: the Father with the Son]. In other words, notice that
Deuteronomy 32:8–9 describes God’s disinheritance of the nations,
where the “sons of God” were assigned a nation and land as their
apportioned allotment and inheritance. Then Psalm 82 describes a
subsequent heavenly courtroom scene in which the “sons of God”
were chastised due to their misbehaviour, and condemned by the
senior deity to die like mortals.

The psalm ends with the dramatic pronouncement that God instead
will inherit and rule over all of the nations. Then Daniel builds on
these descriptions by describing the conviction of the heavenly
representatives of the nations, and the transfer of the dominion over
the entire earth to “someone like the Son of Man” arriving on a
cloud [Psalm 68:5; 104:3; Isaiah 19:1], and the language employed
to describe the subservience of the nations to him, point to the
radical notion that this figure is in fact a reflection of God himself!
Thus, here in Daniel 7, as in Psalm 82, following the conviction
and punishment/destruction of the other subordinate divine figures,
exactly like the four beasts [each representing a kingdom], the
inheritance of and dominion over all of the nations will be passed
on to the Two Powers in heaven! This is an extremely complex
hermeneutical manoeuvre, in which intricate allusions invoke a
matrix of biblical texts, and only a close reading that pays careful
attention to these interpretive aspects allows us to untangle the web
of sources employed by Daniel here. Thus, what confirms the
identification of this “Son of Man” within this interpretive matrix is
ironically via the Qumran fragment 4Q246, because that text
combines the themes of Deuteronomy 32, Psalm 82, and Daniel 7!
Michael Segal [21st century biblical scholar] summarizes and says:
“Scholars have suggested either that this character is a human
sovereign with divine pretensions or that he is a divine messianic
figure. The current study posits a new identification of this figure
based upon the analysis of the biblical texts underlying this
Qumran scroll: in addition to its dependence upon Daniel 7 (which
has been previously recognized), 4Q246 also contains a hitherto
overlooked allusion to Psalm 82. In light of the relationship to
these biblical passages, it is proposed that the character described
as ‘son of God/the Most High’ should be taken as the heavenly
representative of the penultimate kingdom in Daniel 7. The
identification of the allusion to Psalm 82 within 4Q246 also
enriches our analysis of Daniel 7 itself, since the Qumran scroll
demonstrates that early readers of the apocalyptic vision posited a
literary–theological connection between Daniel 7 and Psalm 82.
These texts together formed a cluster of related biblical passages
that were read and interpreted in concert by ancient authors.”
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Kenneth Atkinson [21st century 2nd Temple scholar] concludes:
“The description of a figure called the ‘Son of God’ is nearly
identical to the militant messiah of Ps. Sol. 17, and because its
apparent messianic theology is identical to Ps. Sol. 17, I accept
Collins’ view that the ‘Son of God’ in 4Q246 is a warrior who
was also expected to subdue the Gentiles. These five documents
(4Q161; 4Q285; 4Q246; 4Q252; 4Q174) have all been dated to
the Herodian period between 37 BCE and 70 CE. Thus, they are
contemporary with Ps. Sol. 17’s composition and reflect the likely
period during which the entire corpus of the Psalms of Solomon
was collected and redacted. 4Q246 uses scripture to fashion a
violent eschatological king who is like the Branch of David.
4Q246 begins by describing an individual who fell before the
throne (col. 1.1) and addressed a king (col. 1.2), who was
apparently disturbed by a vision of great carnage (col. 1.2–6). The
remaining lines are of uncertain meaning and likely continue a
description of this revelation. The text then records the actions of
the kings of Assyria and Egypt (col. 1.6–7), followed by the
appearance of someone who the text states: ‘will also be great
upon the earth’ (col. 1.7). The remainder of this column apparently
states, ‘and they will all serve him’ (col. 1.8), and proceeds to list
various titles by which this figure will be known, which include the
appellation ‘Son of God’ (col. 1.9–2.1). The following lines of col.
2 then recount the short–lived reign of the enemy, presumably the
kings of Assyria and Egypt from the proceeding column, which will
last ‘until the people of God arises’ (col. 2.4). The remainder of
4Q246 continues to describe the anticipated activities of this Son of
God, who will represent the people of God as their king (col. 2.2–
9). Although the 3rd person masculine suffixes in the following lines
could refer back to an individual (the ‘Son of God’) or to the
people, the antecedent is almost certainly the people. The people,
however, is an awkward antecedent for the statement that ‘he will
judge the earth with truth’ (col. 2.5–6). Thus, the ‘Son of God’ in
these lines must represent the people of God as their king or
representative, and the everlasting kingdom belonged to both.
4Q246’s author used holy war language, such as ‘give into his
hands’ and ‘cast down before him,’ to describe the military
activities of this ‘Son of God,’ who will fight and prevail over his

enemies, presumably the kings of Assyria and Egypt, to inaugurate
God’s everlasting kingdom. Although the Qumran texts reflect
some exegetical variation, a remarkable degree of consistency
remains in the manner in which messianic titles are combined.
Collins comments, concerning 4Q246: ‘If the ‘Son of God’ text is
read as messianic, it fits nicely with everything we have seen about
the Davidic/royal messiah in the scrolls. He functions as a warrior
to subdue the Gentiles: God will make war on his behalf and cast
peoples down before him.’ Thus, the presence of the word
‘messiah’ must not be considered a causa sine qua non for a
messianic interpretation. Collins also states: ‘It is important to
recognize, however, that messiahs can be referred to by titles
other than mašiaḥ. So, for example, the Branch of David is
simply another way of referring to the Davidic messiah, even
when the word mašiaḥ is not used.’ Because different epithets and
titles are applied to the same figure, the equation of the ‘Branch of
David’ with the ‘Son of God,’ provided by 4Q174’s citation of 2
Samuel 7:14, demonstrates that this figure in 4Q246 is a Davidic
messiah. 4Q246 clearly portrays this ‘Son of God’ as a warrior,
who will cast down his enemies before assuming the throne (col.
2.8–9) for an eternal kingdom (col. 2.9). The militant nature of this
latter phrase is particularly clear, for 4Q252 also states that
Davidic dominion will be achieved following the annihilation of the
messiah’s enemies. The role of the ‘Son of God’ in 4Q246 is
similar to the messiah of Ps. Sol. 17, for both will successfully fight
to overthrow their opponents and establish the kingdom of God.
This Son of God’s power, like that of the Davidic messiah of the
Psalms of Solomon, does not emanate from within himself, but God
is his strength (col. 2.7). God also sustained the warrior messiah in
both 4Q161 (line 18) and Ps. Sol. 17:34. Because 4Q246 has been
dated to 25 BCE, the enthroned king could represent one of the
latter Hasmoneans, who were considered legitimate kings, or
possibly even Herod the Great. This figure could even be
Aristobulus II at the time of Pompey’s intervention. It is also
possible that it may have referred to Hyrcanus II, whom Josephus
recorded reigned as high priest and king from Babylon to the
Euphrates before his murder by Herod in 30 BCE (Ant. 15.2.2
§§14–15). It is conceivable that the kings of Assyria and Egypt
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represent the alliance between the Romans and the Hasmonean or
Herodian kings. A similar pairing of the Romans and Herod the
Great may also be reflected in Ps. Sol. 17:28. It should also be
noted that Puech’s study alluded to these connections, for he also
believed that Ps. Sol. 17 referred to Herod the Great. Despite the
identities of these adversaries, it is clear that the Davidic messiah
of 4Q246 was expected to destroy his opponents in battle. Given
the Herodian date of 4Q246, its militant Davidic messiah is
presumably expected to overthrow either Herod or one of the
latter Hasmoneans in a violent campaign. Given the militaristic
context of this document, its author envisioned a Davidic Messiah
who would overthrow the unlawful non–Davidic king in battle.”
2. The Parables of Enoch
Even more fascinating is the material found in 1 Enoch 37–71,
because the earliest Jewish interpretation of vv. 13–14 is found in
this 2nd Temple text. Although the phrase “Son of Man” occurs
repeatedly in 1 Enoch 37–71 as one who appears at the end of
history to punish the wicked and vindicate the righteous, the dating
of this text is greatly debated, because no fragment has been found
at Qumran. Thus, scholars initially argued that 1 Enoch 37–71 was
written after the time of Jesus’ ministry in 33 a.d., but prior to the
Jewish revolt in 66–70 a.d., so possibly in the late 40s a.d.
However, recent scholarship has argued for an earlier 50s b.c. date!
Leslie Baynes [21st century 2nd Temple scholar] explains:
“Determining the date of the Book of Parables is difficult for a
number of reasons. At present it is extant only in late Ethiopic
manuscripts (15th century and later). Patristic authors do not
directly quote it, but they may allude to it. The attempt to argue a
date from the fact that it does not appear among the discoveries at
Qumran holds no water. For these reasons, internal clues are
particularly important for dating the book. Most scholars have
understood this passage as a reflection of a historical event, but
they differ as to exactly which event it is. Gillian Bampfylde and
Daniel Olson, for example, argue for the 1st Parthian incursion
into Roman territory (Syria) in 51–50 BCE. Many others, however,
including Paolo Sacchi, Gabriele Boccaccini, Jonas Greenfield,

Michael Stone, Adela Yarbro Collins, John Collins, and Pierluigi
Piovanelli, believe that the passage more likely reflects the
Parthian invasion of Judea in 40 BCE, which was an integral part
of the civil war between the two Hasmoneans Antigonus and
Hyrcanus (1 Enoch 56:7). This conflict led directly to the
enthronement of Herod the Great, which leads us in turn to the 2nd
conjunction of the angels with the adventures of the kings and
mighty: namely, their propensity to land in hot water (1 Enoch
67:4–9, 12). Thus, in terms of dating the Parables, both the
sojourn in the hot springs and the lust attributed to the kings and
the mighty in 1 Enoch 67 can be associated with the life and
death of Herod the Great. According to Josephus (Ant. 17.168–
172; War 1.656–658), at the end of his life Herod, suffering from
great physical affliction, repaired to the hot springs of Callirrhoe
to attempt a healing. No healing ensued, and he died shortly
thereafter (4 BCE). Darrell Hannah remarks that ‘scholars are
usually cautious about concluding that we have here an actual
allusion to Herod and his unsuccessful treatment at Callirrhoe,’
but he overcomes that caution with the strength of his argument in
favour of just that. Hannah observes that ‘the one sin of ‘the kings
and the mighty ones’ singled out in the text of 1 Enoch 67:8–13 is
that of lust. This distinguishes it from all the others concerning the
kings and mighty ones in the Parables.’ Herod and his family,
moreover, ‘were infamous for their uncontrolled passions,’ and
David Ladouceur has argued that Josephus’ description of Herod’s
final illness implies that the author considers it commensurate
divine punishment for his licentiousness. Indeed, some of Herod’s
afflictions do not make for good family reading. In light of the
growing scholarly consensus identifying the Parthian conflict in 1
Enoch 56 and the watering hole incident in 1 Enoch 67 with the
beginning and the end of Herod’s career, respectively, Paolo
Sacchi in his summation of the 2005 meeting of the Enoch
Seminar devoted to the Parables proclaimed that the ‘burden of
proof has shifted to those who disagree with the Herodian date’
of the Parables of Enoch. Herod the Great and his retainers,
therefore, emerge as strong candidates for ‘the kings and the
mighty of the earth’ who persecute the righteous in the book, and
from whom do they receive their power? From the wicked angels.”
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James Charlesworth [21st century 2nd Temple scholar] also says:
“Six reasons disclose the most probable date for the Parables of
Enoch. First, it is insignificant that no fragment of this document
has been identified among the fragments found in the Qumran
caves. Second, the Parables of Enoch is clearly the latest
composition within 1 Enoch, and there are reasons to conclude it
would not have had sufficient time to make its way to Qumran.
Third, the document was not composed at Qumran and contains
concepts and perceptions that would not have been acceptable at
Qumran. Fourth, the reference to a Parthian invasion makes best
sense in light of what is known, from Josephus and archaeological
research, about the invasion of 40 BCE. Fifth, the multitudinous
curses on the landowners and those who monopolize the ‘dry land’
make best sense during the period of the land–grabbing by Herod
and the Herodians. Sixth, the early Christians may have avoided
the Parables of Enoch because it lauds Enoch as the celestial Son
of Man and eschatological Judge. Such a claim undermines the
kerygma. Cumulatively then, dating the Parables of Enoch to the
time of Herod the Great and the Herodians has become
conclusive. I note that this conclusion was shared by almost every
leading specialist on 1 Enoch or 2nd Temple Judaism. The
Parables of Enoch appears to be a Jewish work that antedates
Jesus, and the author seems to imagine a connection among the
Messiah, the Righteous One, and the Son of Man. The work most
likely took shape in Galilee, not far from where Jesus centered his
ministry. Thus, he could have been influenced by this writing or the
traditions preserved in the Parables of Enoch. In this case, his own
self–understanding may have been shaped by the relationship
between the Son of Man and the Messiah that is found only in the
Parables of Enoch. If those in the Enoch group were known as the
great scholars who had special and secret knowledge, and if they
lived in Galilee, then Jesus would most likely have had an
opportunity to learn firsthand about their teachings through
discussions and debates. Some of the Bultmannians (notably
Conzelmann) claimed that the ‘Son of Man’ is a term and title that
originates only in the post–Easter community. Conzelmann argued
that all the Son of Man sayings in the words of Jesus are
suspicious. They seem to be the creation of Jesus’ post–Easter

followers. The Son of Man Christology is not linked to Jesus; it
originated in the church, which (in my estimation) should be
renamed (in order to avoid anachronisms) ‘the Early Palestinian
Jesus Movement.’ According to Conzelmann, in the early church,
the term Son of Man first appeared as a title and celebrated the
earthly life and celestial origin of Jesus of Nazareth. The title
reveals nothing about Judaism or the historical Jesus. It ushers
us into the world after Jesus when Christianity begins to separate
from regnant Judaism. Many specialists are now seeing more
clearly that New Testament Christology flows from Jesus’ words
and self–understanding. Conzelmann’s professor, Bultmann,
stressed that ‘the message of Jesus is a presupposition for the
theology of the New Testament rather than a part of that theology
itself.’ These scholars, Bultmann and Conzelmann, were primarily
trained in Greek and in the New Testament; they were not experts
in 2nd Temple Judaism and they should not be judged in terms of
improved data and methodologies. If the preceding reflections are
valid, then speaking personally, I would recast Bultmann’s famous
and influential dictum. He claimed that Jesus is the presupposition
of New Testament theology. Far more likely, Jewish apocalyptic
and eschatological reflections on the Messiah, the Son of Man,
God’s kingdom, and the coming Day of Judgment are the
presuppositions of Jesus’ mind.”
Darrell Bock [21st century New Testament scholar] concludes:
“What is needed is not only a careful study of Jesus’ milieu, but a
tighter focus on that milieu. Most New Testament scholars access
the Jewish milieu, if they do at all, through later Jewish texts like
the Mishnah or the Midrashim (if not through the potentially
anachronistic Talmud). A better appreciation of the role of 2nd
Temple reflections on the Tanach will be more helpful in applying
the Jewish milieu to the historical quest. Since 2nd Temple studies
has become a discipline on its own, and rightly so, it and New
Testament scholars have lost regular contact with each other.
This is most unfortunate, because the findings of both of these
disciplines are very much related to each other, especially as the
early Palestinian Jesus movement is becoming more appreciated in
its earliest phases as an attempt to be a Jewish–oriented expression
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of the old faith. My research indicates one example where such
careful attention may lead to a reconfiguration of a long–held
debate. The starting point for such discussion is the strong
likelihood that the Parables of Enoch are Jewish and most likely
were composed prior to the work of Jesus of Nazareth or
contemporaneous with his Galilean ministry. Seven reasons
support this starting point: (1) A variety of points urge us not to
expect to find the Parables of Enoch at Qumran: it was a late
addition to the books of Enoch; it held to a different calendar than
the Qumran community; the Righteous Teacher is more important
to the community than Enoch, so it would not welcome a document
in which Enoch becomes the key eschatological figure. (2) The best
date for the Parthian invasion discussed in 1 Enoch 56 is 40 BCE.
Although this connection is not certain, it seems the best candidate,
especially given the nature of pattern fulfilment in eschatological
texts and the lack of connection to an enemy like Rome in this
material. One thing can be said. If the invasion is stereotyped, it is
not foreseen as coming from Rome and the West but from older
historical opponents that lie to the East. This is part of the
rationale for seeing a historic backdrop that takes the reference to
the Parthians as concrete and not merely stereotypical. (3) One
should not expect to see the Parables of Enoch cited by Christians
because Jesus is the Son of Man for them, not Enoch. (4) The
relegation of Jews behind the Parables of Enoch best fits the
Herodian period with potential allusions to Calirrhoe. (5) The
making of Jews into ‘tenant farmers’ on what was their land and
the reference to being pushed off of dry land makes sense only after
Herod the Great. (6) The Wirkungsgechichte of the Parables of
Enoch helps fit the time of 4 Ezra which as Stone has shown has
pre–70 traditions in it, as does 2 Baruch. (7) The Parables of
Enoch does not mention the fall of Jerusalem and the burning of
the Temple in 70 CE which makes best sense if this text predates
this event. These reflections powerfully show the value of 2nd
Temple Jewish study and Jesus research working more closely side
by side, rather than as isolated disciplines. In an era that often
demands increasing specialization because of the size of each of
these key disciplines, scholars in each area must not lose sight of
the benefit of staying aware of and in touch with one another.”

Thus, since this dating of 1 Enoch 37–71 in the 50s–40s b.c. proves
true, there is no doubt that it uses Daniel’s book, as in these verses:
“There I saw one who had a head of days, and his head was like
white wool. And with him was another, whose face was like the
appearance of a man; and his face was full of graciousness like
one of the holy angels. And I asked the angel of peace, who went
with me and showed me all the hidden things, about that son of
man—who he was and whence he was and why he went with the
Head of Days. And he answered me and said to me, ‘This is the son
of man who has righteousness, and righteousness dwells with him.
And all the treasuries of what is hidden he will reveal; for the Lord
of Spirits has chosen him, and his lot has prevailed through truth
in the presence of the Lord of Spirits forever. And this son of man
whom you have seen—he will raise the kings and the mighty from
their couches, and the strong from their thrones. He will loosen the
reins of the strong, and he will crush the teeth of the sinners. He
will overturn the kings from their thrones and their kingdoms,
because they do not exalt him or praise him, or humbly
acknowledge whence the kingdom was given to them. The face of
the strong he will turn aside, and he will fill them with shame.
Darkness will be their dwelling, and worms will be their couch.
And they will have no hope to rise from their couches, because they
do not exalt the name of the Lord of Spirits. These are they who
judge the stars of heaven, and raise their hands against the Most
High, and tread upon the earth and dwell on it. All their deeds
manifest unrighteousness, and their power rests upon their wealth.
Their faith is in the gods they have made with their hands, and they
deny the name of the Lord of Spirits. And they persecute the houses
of his congregation, and the faithful who depend on the name of the
Lord of Spirits.” [1 Enoch 46]
“In those days, there had arisen the prayer of the righteous, and
the blood of the righteous one, from the earth into the presence of
the Lord of Spirits. In these days the holy ones who dwell in the
heights of heaven were uniting with one voice, and they were
glorifying and praising and blessing the name of the Lord of
Spirits, and were interceding and praying in behalf of the blood of
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the righteous that had been shed, and the prayer of the righteous,
that it might not be in vain in the presence of the Lord of Spirits;
that judgment might be executed for them, and endurance might
not be their lot forever. In those days I saw the Head of Days as
he took his seat on the throne of his glory, and the books of the
living were opened in his presence, and all his host, which was in
the heights of heaven, and his court, were standing in his presence.
And the hearts of the holy ones were filled with joy, for the number
of the righteous was at hand; and the prayer of the righteous had
been heard, and a reckoning of the blood of the righteous one had
been required in the presence of the Lord of Spirits.” [1 Enoch 47]
“In that place I saw the spring of righteousness, and it was
inexhaustible, and many springs of wisdom surrounded it; and all
the thirsty drank from them and were filled with wisdom; and their
dwelling places were with the righteous and the holy and the
chosen. And in that hour that son of man was named in the
presence of the Lord of Spirits, and his name, before the Head of
Days. Even before the sun and the constellations were created,
before the stars of heaven were made, his name was named
before the Lord of Spirits. He will be a staff for the righteous, that
they may lean on him and not fall; he will be the light of the
nations, and he will be a hope for those who grieve in their
hearts. All who dwell on the earth will fall down and worship
before him, and they will glorify and bless and sing hymns to the
name of the Lord of Spirits. For this reason he was chosen and
hidden in his presence, before the world was created and forever.
And the wisdom of the Lord of Spirits has revealed him to the holy
and the righteous; for he has preserved the lot of the righteous. For
they have hated and despised this age of unrighteousness; indeed,
all its deeds and its ways they have hated in the name of the Lord
of Spirits. For in his name they are saved, and he is the vindicator
of their lives. In those days, downcast will be the faces of the kings
of the earth, and the strong who possess the land, because of the
deeds of their hands. For on the day of their tribulation and
distress they will not save themselves; and into the hand of my
chosen ones I shall throw them. As straw in the fire and as lead in
the water, thus they will burn before the face of the holy, and they

will sink before the face of the righteous; and no trace of them will
be found. And on the day of their distress there will be rest on the
earth, and before them they will fall and not rise, and there will be
no one to take them with his hand and raise them. For they have
denied the Lord of Spirits and his Anointed One. Blessed be the
name of the Lord of Spirits.” [1 Enoch 48]
“For wisdom has been poured out like water, and glory will not fail
in his presence forever and ever. For he is mighty in all the secrets
of righteousness; and unrighteousness will vanish like a shadow,
and will have no place to stand. For the Chosen One has taken his
stand in the presence of the Lord of Spirits; and his glory is
forever and ever, and his might, to all generations. And in him
dwell the spirit of wisdom and the spirit of insight, and the spirit of
instruction and might, and the spirit of those who have fallen
asleep in righteousness. And he will judge the things that are
secret, and a lying word none will be able to speak in his presence;
for he is the Chosen One in the presence of the Lord of Spirits
according to his good pleasure.” [1 Enoch 49]
“And the Lord commanded the kings and the mighty and the
exalted and those who possess the land, and he said, ‘Open your
eyes and lift up your horns, if you are able to recognize the Chosen
One.’ And the Lord of Spirits seated him upon the throne of his
glory, and the spirit of righteousness was poured upon him. And
the word of his mouth will slay all the sinners, and all the
unrighteous will perish from his presence. And there will stand up
on that day all the kings and the mighty and the exalted and those
who possess the land. And they will see and recognize that he sits
on the throne of his glory; and righteousness is judged in his
presence, and no lying word is spoken in his presence. And pain
will come upon them as upon a woman in labour, when the child
enters the mouth of the womb, and she has difficulty in giving birth.
And one group of them will look at the other; and they will be
terrified and will cast down their faces, and pain will seize them
when they see that Son of Man sitting on the throne of his glory.
And the kings and the mighty and all who possess the land will
bless and glorify and exalt him who rules over all, who was hidden.
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For from the beginning the Son of Man was hidden, and the
Most High preserved him in the presence of his might, and he
revealed him to the chosen. And the congregation of the chosen
and holy will be sown; and all the chosen will stand in his presence
on that day. And all the kings and the mighty and the exalted and
those who rule the land will fall on their faces in his presence; and
they will worship and set their hope on that Son of Man, and they
will supplicate and petition for mercy from him. But the Lord of
Spirits himself will press them, so that they will hasten to depart
from his presence; and their faces will be filled with shame, and
the darkness will grow deeper on their faces. And he will deliver
them to the angels for punishment, so that they may exact
retribution from them for the iniquity that they did to his children
and his chosen ones. And they will be a spectacle for the righteous
and for his chosen ones; and they will rejoice over them, because
the wrath of the Lord of Spirits rests upon them, and his sword is
drunk with them. And the righteous and the chosen will be saved on
that day; and the faces of the sinners and the unrighteous they will
henceforth not see. And the Lord of Spirits will abide over them,
and with that Son of Man they will eat, and they will lie down and
rise up forever and ever. And the righteous and chosen will have
arisen from the earth, and have ceased to cast down their faces,
and have put on the garment of glory. And this will be your
garment, the garment of life from the Lord of Spirits; and your
garments will not wear out, and your glory will not fade in the
presence of the Lord of Spirits.” [1 Enoch 62]
“In those days, the mighty and the kings who possess the land will
implore the angels of his punishment, to whom they have been
delivered, to give them a little respite that they might fall down and
worship in the presence of the Lord of Spirits, and that they might
confess their sins in his presence. They will bless and glorify the
Lord of Spirits and say, ‘Blessed is the Lord of Spirits and the Lord
of kings, and the Lord of the mighty and the Lord of the rich, and
the Lord of glory and the Lord of wisdom. Your power is splendid
in every secret thing for all generations, and your glory, forever
and ever. Deep are all your secrets and without number, and your
righteousness is beyond reckoning. Now we know that we should

glorify and bless the Lord of the kings, and him who reigns over all
kings.’ And they will say, ‘Would that we might be given respite,
that we might glorify and praise and make confession in the
presence of your glory. Now we desire a little respite and do not
find it, we pursue it and do not lay hold of it. And light has
vanished from our presence, and darkness is our dwelling forever
and ever. For in his presence we did not make confession, nor did
we glorify the name of the Lord of the kings; our hope was on the
sceptre of our kingdom and throne of our glory. But on the day of
our affliction and tribulation it does not save us, nor do we find
respite to make confession, that our Lord is faithful in all his deeds
and his judgment and his justice, and his judgments have no
respect for persons. And we vanish from his presence because of
our deeds, and all our sins are reckoned in righteousness.’ Now
they will say to themselves, ‘Our lives are full of ill–gotten wealth,
but it does not prevent us from descending into the flame of the
torment of Sheol.’ And after that their faces will be filled with
darkness and shame in the presence of that Son of Man; and from
his presence they will be driven, and a sword will abide before
him in their midst. Thus says the Lord of Spirits, ‘This is the law
and the judgment of the mighty and the kings and the exalted and
those who possess the land in the presence of the Lord of Spirits.’”
[1 Enoch 63]
“And they had great joy, and they blessed and glorified and
exalted, because the name of that Son of Man had been revealed
to them. And he sat on the throne of his glory, and the whole
judgment was given to the Son of Man, and he will make sinners
vanish and perish from the face of the earth. And those who led the
world astray will be bound in chains, and in the assembly place of
their destruction they will be shut up; and all their works will
vanish from the face of the earth, and from then on there will be
nothing that is corruptible; for that Son of Man has appeared.
And he has sat down on the throne of his glory, and all evil will
vanish from his presence. And the word of that Son of Man will go
forth and will prevail in the presence of the Lord of Spirits. This
is the third parable of Enoch.” [1 Enoch 69:26–29]
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“And after this, while he was living, his name was lifted up into
the presence of that Son of Man and into the presence of the
Lord of Spirits from among those who dwell on the earth. He was
lifted up on the chariots of the wind, and his name departed from
among them. And from that day, I was not reckoned among them;
and he set me between two winds, between the North and the West,
where the angels took cords to measure for me the place of the
chosen and the righteous. And there I saw the first fathers and the
righteous dwelling in that place from of old.” [1 Enoch 70]
“And after that, my spirit was taken away, and it ascended to
heaven. And I saw the sons of the holy angels, and they were
stepping on flames of fire; and their garments were white, as were
their tunics, and the light of their faces was like snow. And I saw
two rivers of fire, and the light of that fire shone like hyacinth, and
I fell on my face before the Lord of Spirits. And the angel
Michael, one of the archangels, took me by my right hand and
raised me up, and he brought me out to all the secrets; and he
showed me all the secrets of mercy, and he showed me all the
secrets of righteousness. And he showed me all the secrets of the
ends of heaven and all the treasuries of the stars, and all the
luminaries go forth from there before the holy ones. And he took
my spirit—even me, Enoch—to the heaven of heavens, and I saw
there, as it were, a house built of hailstones, and between those
stones were tongues of living fire. And my spirit saw in that light a
circle that encircled that house of fire, from the four sides of that
house came rivers full of living fire, and they encircled that house.
And around it were Seraphin and Cherubin, and Ophannin, and
those who sleep not, but guard the throne of his glory. And I saw
angels that could not be counted, thousands of thousands and ten
thousand times ten thousand; they were surrounding that house.
And Michael and Raphael and Gabriel and Phanuel, and the holy
angels who are in the heights of heaven, were going in and out in
that house. And there came out of that house Michael and Raphael
and Gabriel and Phanuel and many holy angels without number.
And with them was the Head of Days, and his head was white and
pure as wool, and his garments were indescribable. And I fell on
my face, and all my flesh melted, and my spirit was transformed.

And I cried out with a loud voice, with a spirit of power, and I
blessed and praised and exalted. And those blessings that went
forth from my mouth were acceptable in the presence of that
Head of Days. And that Head of Days came with Michael and
Raphael and Gabriel and Phanuel, and thousands and tens of
thousands of angels without number. And he came to me and
greeted me with his voice and said to me, ‘You are that Son of
Man who was born for righteousness, and righteousness dwells
on you, and the righteousness of the Head of Days will not
forsake you.’ And he said to me, ‘He proclaims peace to you in the
name of the age that is to be, for from there peace has proceeded
from the creation of the age, and thus you will have it forever and
forever and ever. And all will walk on your path since
righteousness will never forsake you; with you will be their
dwelling and with you, their lot, and from you they will not be
separated forever and forever and ever. And thus there will be
length of days with that Son of Man, and there will be peace for the
righteous, and the path of truth for the righteous, in the name of the
Lord of Spirits forever and ever.’” [1 Enoch 71]
Thus, why is the “Son of Man” here equated to be Enoch himself?
Darrell Bock [21st century New Testament scholar] summarizes:
“An argument can be made for the presence of an inner–dynamic
within the early Enochic traditions that made the antediluvian’s
identification with the ‘Son of Man’ conceivable. The
unpreparedness of 1 Enoch 71:14 might be supported by a majority
reading for 1 Enoch 70:1 in which one textual tradition has the
following: ‘Afterwards it happened that his immortal name was
exalted before that Son of Man and the Lord of Spirits above all
those who live on the earth.’ This reference to Enoch’s exaltation
is clear, but he remains distinct from ‘that Son of Man.’”
So, although no mention is made of the “Son of Man” specifically
“accompanied by heavenly clouds” in 1 Enoch 37–71, nevertheless
Enoch refers to the throne on which the “Son of Man” will sit [1
Enoch 51:3], especially in the context of his existence before the
sun, stars, and heavens were made [1 Enoch 48:3].
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Delbert Burkett [21st century New Testament scholar] concludes:
“The main part of 1 Enoch 37–70 presents a pre–existent Messiah.
This figure combines the attributes and functions of ‘the one like a
Son of Man’ in Daniel 7:13, the Davidic Messiah of Isaiah 11 and
Psalm 2, the servant of the Lord in Isaiah, and Yahweh as
eschatological judge. The Similitudes explicitly identify the figure
as the Messiah (1 Enoch 48:10; 52:4). From a servant passage, his
primary title is ‘the Chosen One’ (Isaiah 42:1). God chose him and
hid him in heaven before the world was created (1 Enoch 48:3, 6;
62:7). At the final judgment, he will sit on God’s throne of glory
and execute judgment for the righteous against the rebellious
angels and sinners, especially the kings and rulers of earth.”
In summary, although this “Son of Man” figure was seen as an unknown
exalted messiah in later rabbinical texts [b. Sanh. 98a; Num. Rab. 13.14;
ʾAg. Ber. 23.1; Midr. Haggadol Gen. 49.10; Midr. Ps. 21.5; Tanchuma
Toledoth 20; Midr. Ps. 2.9; ʾAg. Ber. 14.3; Gen. Rab. 13.11–12], numerous
alternative interpretations have been advanced within four categories:
1. The Human View
The Aramaic bar ʾĕnāš [or “son of man”] simply means “human”
and is equivalent to the Hebrew ben ʾāḏām [Psalm 8:4]. Thus,
critical scholars argue that this was in reference to Judas
Maccabeus, due to their Maccabean dating of Daniel’s book. In
other words, apparently after Antiochus IV Epiphanes [the “little”
horn] was killed, Judas Maccabeus [the “Son of Man”] was given a
kingdom, and although he was not a king, he was nevertheless like
a king. However, the 4th beast is clearly about the Roman Empire!
John Goldingay [21st century biblical scholar] responds to this:
“The figure has been identified as Israel’s actual leader whose rule
followed that of Antiochus, Judas Maccabeus; the vision would
mark God’s approval of the Maccabean victory. But this view
presupposes that Daniel was written after the temple restoration;
and there are no specific pointers to Judas, while in general the
book’s sympathies within loyal Judaism are usually thought to be
more with the strand that was looking for God to act than with the
active resistance of the Maccabees.”

John Collins [21st century 2nd Temple scholar] likewise responds:
“Another interpretation identifies the ‘one like a human being’ as
Judas Maccabee. Jerome thought this identification was implied in
Porphyry’s attempt to interpret the vision with reference to the
Jews under Epiphanes, and it has also found occasional defenders
in modern times. The argument for this view is that Judas was the
ruler who actually followed the 4th beast. The argument fails for
lack of support in the rest of the book. In Daniel 11:34 we are told
that the maskîlîm in the time of persecution will receive ‘little
help’; this has long been taken as a slighting reference to the
Maccabees. In fact, it is far from clear that Daniel’s book
supports the militant action of the Maccabees at all. Nowhere else
in the book do we find even a possible reference to Judas.”
2. The Collective/Personification View
This interprets the “Son of Man” not as an individual, but a
collective representation or personification for a group of people
on the basis of midrashic interpretations [Midr. Ps. 21, 5; Tanch.
Tol. 20], which are hardly convincing in light of the internal
problems found in those documents [or the rabbinic gymnastics
that are involved in their formulations]. The exegesis of vv. 13–14
in its own context must be primary. Nevertheless, in this
interpretation, this group are faithful Jews gaining God’s kingdom.
Louis Hartman [20th century biblical scholar] defended this view:
“It should be stated that the interpretation proposed here of the
‘one in human likeness’ and ‘the holy ones of the Most High’ is the
most natural and obvious one, and seems to do greatest justice to
the genius of the author of Daniel 7 who, though quite at home in
the Old Testament, displayed great originality and ability in his
selection and use of traditional materials. Montgomery aptly
observes: ‘We must allow the chapter its own originality and do
justice to the simply but finely limned features of the drama without
thinking that every detail is a painful borrowing on the part of a
second–hand littérateur.’ Indeed, since he chose four horrifying
and monstrous beasts as symbols of the four world–empires,
doubtless he thought it most appropriate to symbolize the members
of the kingdom of God by the figure of ‘the one in human likeness.’
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In so doing, he created a striking and deliberate contrast between
the four immense beasts which emerge from the great sea (vv. 2–3),
symbol of chaos and nothingness in the Urzeit (Genesis 1:1–2),
and the ‘one in human likeness’ who in the Endzeit comes ‘with the
clouds of heaven,’ clouds being one of the usual accompaniments
of a theophany (Exodus 13:21; 19:16; 20:21; Deuteronomy 5:22; 1
Kings 8:10). As Moses, ‘whom the Lord knew face to face’
(Deuteronomy 34:10), ‘passed into the midst of the cloud’ (Exodus
24:18), so too the ‘one in human likeness,’ the Israel of faith,
comes ‘with the clouds of the heavens’ and arrives at the throne of
the Ancient One. Then the ‘one in human likeness’ is brought into
the presence of the Ancient One (v. 13). The Aramaic words here,
qedāmôhî haqrebûhî (‘he was brought into his presence’) are the
same ones used in the Aramaic Story of Ahiqar, col. 4, line 50,
qrbtk qdm snḥʾryb mlkʾ (‘I brought you into the presence of King
Sennacherib’). As Montgomery points out, ‘The idea is that of a
royal audience.’ Thus, the ‘one in human likeness’ did not descend
or come from God as if he had been an angel in the divine
presence, but rather he ascended or came to God and was brought
into his presence. In effect, the author is saying that ‘the holy ones
of the Most High,’ faithful Israel responsive to the demands of the
reign of God even in the face of their present humiliation and
suffering, will come into the divine presence in order to receive
everlasting dominion in holiness, nobility, and grandeur, and so
will replace the depraved, brutal, and vile kingdoms of the pagan
world which were opposed to the reign of God and to his people.”
Scholars have also argued that the equivalence of the “Son of Man”
[vv. 13–14] with the “saints of the Highest One” [later in v. 27]
includes a fulfilment in Jesus as the highest example of vindication.
Francis Moloney [21st century New Testament scholar] explains:
“The expression ‘one like a son of man,’ used to describe the holy
ones in Israel in Daniel 7, becomes ‘the Son of Man’ in the person
of Jesus. The nation of holy ones, prepared to obey the God of
Israel in the conviction that in the end—despite all apparent human
wisdom and appearances—God would have the last word, is
assumed by Jesus as an individual, ‘the Son of Man.’”

Nevertheless, this collective view stiff suffers from this problem in
v. 14: “that all peoples, nations, and languages are to serve him.”
In other words, the Aramaic yiplᵊḥûn [for “to serve”] from the
Akkadian cognate palāḥu [or “to fear, respect, venerate”] is always
used with the idea of service or worship of a deity, and any other
than Yahweh would be tantamount to idolatry [recall Daniel 3:12].
This is why the LXXΟ has translated it with the Greek verb latreuō
[or “to serve the gods with prayers and sacrifices”].
3. The Angelic View
Other scholars have taken the collective view and modified it to
interpret this group as angels! Defenders of this view have pointed
out that it is customary in visions to have multiple angels appearing
in human semblance [or that a specific angel is in view]. In other
words, the Aramaic qadîš elyônîn [or “saints of the Highest”] are
said to receive the kingdom [v. 18], and the equivalent Hebrew
term qᵊdôšîm commonly refers to angels. However, the major
weakness to this view is that these “saints” will suffer and will be
subsequently defeated [later in vv. 21, 25]. Furthermore, since all
the nations “serve him,” this is hardly fitting for an angelic figure!
4. The Messianic View
The earliest interpretation is the messianic one [b. Sanh. 98a; Num.
Rab. 13:14; and ʾAggadat Bĕrʾēšît 14:3; 23:1]. There was already
evidence of this in the intertestamental literature as attested by the
repeated connection in 1 Enoch between the “Son of Man” and the
messiah [1 Enoch 46:1–6; 48:1–7], and Jesus made reference to
himself as this “Son of Man” [it occurs ~84 times in the gospels].
Of particular importance is the reference in Mark 14:62, where
Jesus made a direct allusion to vv. 13–14. His response became the
basis of the charge of blasphemy levelled against him. Thus, his
appeal to vv. 13–14 cannot be seen in isolation, as though this was
a post–Easter manoeuvre by the early church to put words back
into his mouth, portraying him as claiming something he never
really believed about himself [as critical scholars have suggested].
Jesus had consistently and frequently used the expression “Son of
Man” of himself throughout his public ministry, and at the end he
ramped up the significance of this self–identification by adding the
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words “coming with the clouds of heaven,” which revealed that he
saw himself as that kingly figure in vv. 13–14. He had revealed this
earlier to his disciples [Matthew 24:30], but now he was stating it
publicly with the religious leaders. So, if the “Son of Man” was
ambiguous, Jesus removed all ambiguity and claimed to be him!
Furthermore, his clarification that he would be “seated at the right
hand of the Power” clarified the question he raised to the religious
leaders a few days earlier [Mark 12:35–37] about Psalm 110, and
now he was able to answer his paradoxical question [“David
himself calls him ‘Lord,’ so how can he be his son?”]. Thus, the
answer is that Jesus is David’s “Lord” [the 2nd Power/Yahweh]
who will sit at the right hand of God [the 1st Power/Yahweh]!
Thus, Jesus neatly tied together vv. 13–14 with Psalm 110:1 and
has shown that the Davidic covenant promise of eternal kingship
and the kingship promise in vv. 13–14 find their fulfilment in him!
Darrell Bock [21st century New Testament scholar] summarizes:
“At the exchange between Jesus and the high priest, Jesus was
asked to explain who he was. His reply invoked Psalm 110:1 and
Daniel 7:13. This was the crux of this scene. One could make a
strong case for both citations being linked by Jesus originally,
given the likelihood that both texts appeared to have mattered to
him (Mark 12:35–37; 13:26; Matthew 22:41–45; 24:27, 30; Luke
20:41–44; 21:22, 24, 27). The way in which Psalm 110:1 is posed
as a riddle and is stated theoretically not confessionally does not
reflect the clarity of an early–church creation and suggests
authenticity. Jesus’ self–designation as Son of Man, which is as
multi–attested as any title tied to him points to the likelihood that
he reflected on this phrase. The likelihood he did so without
considering its scriptural roots is very hard to accept. I actually
think it is likely he alluded to both texts. However, as a matter of
historical Jesus debate, all one needed to trigger the offense was
that Jesus alluded to one of these two texts. The high priest could
have responded with a blasphemy claim had either text been
noted. The appeal to Psalm 110:1 with its reference to being seated
at the right hand of God meant that Jesus anticipated divine
vindication and expected to be ushered into God’s very presence,
in some way sharing God’s presence and glory, a thought that was

controversial to Jews, some of whom entertained the possibility of
something similar for a few potential figures, while other Jews
thought that such an exaltation was unthinkable. The Exagoge of
Ezekiel 68–82 entertains the possibility of Moses seated on the
‘thrones’ of God (note the plural for thrones, an allusion to Daniel
7:9). This text is not eschatological, but is a midrash on Exodus
7:1, which reads literally in the Hebrew, ‘I will make you god to
Pharaoh.’ So, in this text, Moses is portrayed in a dream as
sharing God’s authority when he acts in announcing the plagues.
This is not the same as a direct exaltation, but moves in that
direction. 1 Enoch and its portrait of the Son of Man sees a 2nd
power in heaven who shares final judgment with God in lines
developed from Daniel 7:9–14. This authority seems to be very
much like what Jesus affirmed at the trial. Two passages are of
note here. One is 3 Enoch where the angel Metatron escorts Enoch
and claims to be ‘little Yahweh’ only to be punished for the claim
later as having offended the uniqueness of God. So, this text shows
a rejection of the sharing–glory–with–God idea. The second text is
a famous exchange involving Rabbi Akiba, who upon positing the
possibility of a figure seated by God is challenged by other rabbis
with the rebuke ‘Akiba, how long will you profane the Shekinah?’
The writers of these texts would have been offended by a reply
like Jesus’ whether he appealed to Psalm 110:1 or to Daniel 7:13.
So, for the Jewish leadership, a Galilean teacher like Jesus did not
qualify for such a claim, not having the credentials of greatness
that the other candidates had, that is, if they even accepted such a
possibility. If Jesus had only appealed to Daniel 7:13–14, with its
image of the Son of Man riding the clouds, then the high priest
also would have reacted because such riding of the clouds was
something only the deity did in the Old Testament. The
implication in such a reply was that Jesus would return as the Son
of Man to exercise judgment. The implication would have
included the idea that one day Jesus would judge his current
opponents! So this again would be seen as a claim to share divine
prerogatives, as well as a direct challenge to the leadership. If
Jesus uttered both sayings, then the point was that one day he
would sit in God’s presence and exercise such judgment authority.
Although Daniel 7:9–14 foreshadows a coming to heaven to
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receive authority, the sequence in Jesus’ reply sees a coming from
heaven to exercise this authority. So, Jesus is developing Daniel,
in all likelihood because of the vindication that he anticipated and
expressed through Psalm 110:1. Luke cites the Danielic title and
Psalm 110:1 because in one sense it is the key text that establishes
the motif of a presence with God in heaven. Jesus’ language here
is laid out in a manner that makes it clear he is not reading this
text in a metaphorical way that points to his role on earth, but to
a vindication and position in heaven. In any of these three
scenarios (Psalm 110:1 alone, Daniel 7:13–14 alone, or both texts
together), Jesus’ reply claimed an equality with God that the
leadership would have judged as slander against God’s unique
glory. With a Danielic allusion, the challenge to the leadership was
more direct, as Jesus (although he is a defendant now) claimed that
one day he would be the judge of the leadership. This also could
have been seen as blasphemous in light of Exodus 22:28. A way
to contextualize this reply is to think of it as worse than a defendant
claiming to be able to live in the temple’s Holy of Holies, the
earthly symbol of God’s presence in heaven. Part of what made
the remark so offensive to the leadership was its suggested locale
in heaven. Jesus invoked not the symbol of God’s presence but his
own presence next to the very real glory of God. The regarding of
Jesus’ response as blasphemy was not a charge the leadership
could have brought to Rome. However what it permitted them to do
was raise the issue of Jesus being disruptive to the Pax Romana in
Judea. If he had claimed to be a figure who bears independent
authority apart from Rome, that claim could have been taken to
Pilate and presented as a disruptive presence in the province. To
translate that as a claim to be a king independent of Rome was all
that was needed to merit Pilate’s consideration. So, the leaders
believed they had good reason to go to Pilate and raise a charge of
sedition to which Pilate acted as Caesar’s representative.”
Furthermore, there is a striking inter–textual feature that argues for
this messianic interpretation. In other words, in regards to the
“latter days” [recall Daniel 2:28], Israel’s hope was based upon a
future king who will appear at this time [Isaiah 2:2; Jeremiah
23:20; 30:24; 48:47; 49:39; Ezekiel 38:16; Hosea 3:5; Micah 4:1].

Michael Shepherd [21st century 2nd Temple scholar] summarizes:
“The canonical consciousness of Daniel’s book can be
demonstrated in a number of ways. The character Daniel, like
Esther, is cast as a Joseph–like figure (Genesis 37–50) who is
raised to prominence among foreign royalty in order to be an
instrument for the purposes of God among the nations. From
another perspective, the ‘decree’ of Daniel 9:25 has been said to
point to the decree of Cyrus that closes the Hebrew canon in
expectation of the Messiah (2 Chronicles 36:23). But perhaps the
most striking inter–textual feature of Daniel is the earlier–
mentioned Hebraism ‘at the end of the days’ in Daniel 2:28. The
actual Hebrew phrase occurs in Daniel 10:14. The uniqueness of
the phrase can be seen in its sparse use within the Pentateuch—it
occurs four times (Genesis 49:1; Numbers 24:14; Deuteronomy
4:30; 31:29)—and in its key role in the compositional strategy of
the Pentateuch. John Sailhamer has demonstrated that three of
the occurrences of the phrase within the Pentateuch (Genesis
49:1; Numbers 24:14; Deuteronomy 31:29) stand at the
beginning of major poetic seams in which a major character from
the preceding narrative proclaims a coming king from Judah ‘at
the end of the days.’ The phrase falls into disuse in the former
prophets. Although the hope of a messiah (1 Samuel 2:10; 2
Samuel 22:51; 23:1) and an everlasting kingdom (2 Samuel 7:12–
13) is expressed, the fulfilment is not. Each successive king is
marked by failure to some degree. The phrase then re–emerges
(Isaiah 2:2; Jeremiah 23:20; 30:24; 48:47; 49:39; Ezekiel 38:16;
Hosea 3:5; Micah 4:1). Once again, the hope is a future king
(Hosea 3:5). The two final occurrences of the phrase come in
Daniel; thus, it has an important function in each division of the
Old Testament. The use of ‘at the end of the days’ in Daniel links
the eschatology of the book to that of the rest of the canon. Thus,
the coming king from Judah is the most likely candidate for the
head of the everlasting kingdom in Daniel 2:44; 3:33; 4:31; 6:27;
7:14, 18, 27. God is the ruler of the kingdom, and he gives it to
whomever he pleases (Daniel 4:14, 22, 29). His choice is the
coming king from Judah—the one ‘like a son of man’ in Daniel
7:13. Others who have looked to the larger canonical context have
concluded that Ezekiel’s book is the key to understanding the one
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‘like a son of man’ in Daniel 7:13. The frequent use of ‘son of
man’ in address to the prophet and the appearance of one ‘like
the appearance of a man’ in Ezekiel 1:26 seem to be strong links
to Daniel 7:13. Pierson Parker has even gone so far as to say that
Jesus’ title in the New Testament indicated ‘prophetic leadership’
and that Jesus ‘marked himself not as messiah but as one who, in
the line of Enoch, Daniel, and Ezekiel, envisaged the kingdom.’
However, it must be said that Daniel 7:14 indicates that the one
‘like a son of man’ in Daniel 7:13 is much more than a prophetic
figure. Moreover, the one ‘like the appearance of a man’ in Ezekiel
1:26 is surrounded by fire and radiance (Ezekiel 1:27)—an
appearance called the ‘likeness of the glory of the Lord’ (Ezekiel
1:28). Although this description bears a striking resemblance to
Daniel 7:9, 10, 13, the focus is on ‘the glory of the Lord’ (Ezekiel
3:12, 23; 8:2–4; 9:3; 10:4; 43:2–5; 44:4).”
Thus, when all the views are considered, the 4th messianic view is the best
option, because Daniel sees this “Son of Man” approaching the “Ancient of
Days” with “heavenly clouds,” and he will be given “dominion” over the
entire world. Since God also “rides on a swift cloud” [Isaiah 19:1], this
means that the heavenly “Son of Man” is the 2nd Power/Yahweh, a fitting
description for Jesus [as the incarnate 2nd Power], since he is both divine
and human, and will establish God’s kingdom on earth [Mark 1:15].
Robert Rowe [20th century New Testament scholar] says: “To summarize
our consideration of messianic kingship in Israel, we have seen that in the
context of worship, the Davidic king was closely associated with the
kingship of Yahweh, was sometimes represented as suffering, and also
played the role of ‘representative man’ (analogous to the 1st man) in
relation to God; here he acted out, in his person and on behalf of his
people Israel, on the one hand the frailty and humiliation of mankind, and
on the other the kingly authority and exaltation of mankind. In that role he
was known as ben ʾāḏām. The enthronement of God (Daniel 7:9) followed
by the granting of kingship to ‘one like a son of man’ (Daniel 7:13) is
reminiscent of the coronation of the Davidic king in Psalm 2. The structure
of the dream reflects the celebration of Yahweh’s kingship, which we have
seen in the psalms is associated with the Davidic messianic king. It is
difficult to conceive of the ‘saints of the Most High’ without a leader.

Having received the kingship, he shares it with the saints, by virtue of his
close identification with them. If ‘one like a son of man’ who comes ‘with
the clouds of heaven’ is a heavenly being, although he may represent the
saints, he cannot be merely a symbol for them. It is the heavenly origin of
the ‘one like a son of man’ which finally proves his individuality, and
taken with other indications in the chapter, his messianic role.”
Matthias Albani [21st century 2nd Temple scholar] likewise concludes:
“This is the eschatological fulfilment of the promises still open for the
Davidic dynasty (Psalm 2; 89; 110). Although in Daniel’s book the ‘one
like a son of man’ is never expressis verbis identified with the messiah, his
function in the eschatological hope of Daniel 7 runs parallel to the role
of the royal messiah in messianic expectations.”
Thus, the 3rd angelic view is unlikely because this would have the “little”
horn fighting and defeating the angels. Furthermore, the Aramaic qaddîšîn
and Hebrew qᵊdôšîm [for “saints”] is not an exclusive term for “angels,”
and there is nothing in the context of Daniel 7 to suggest the “saints”
should be understood as angels. Why would the “Son of Man” refer to
angels, when the angels had already been depicted in v. 10 as those who
stood before the Ancient of Days and attended him? Likewise, the 1st
human view is insufficient in light of the worship that the “Son of Man” is
given in v. 14, since the Aramaic word pᵊlaḥ [for “serve”] is always used
with the idea of service or worship of a deity [implying idolatry when not
used of God]. In fact, this same argument would militate against the 3rd
angelic view. Thus, the “Son of Man” refers to and finds its fulfilment in
Jesus! When properly understood, “Son of Man” does represent a human
[as it customarily does in the Old Testament], but since he also receives a
kingdom “like” a human, it means he has a paradoxical connection with
humanity. In other words, vv. 13–14 communicates that the messiah is
both human and divine! That is exactly what the virgin birth of Jesus of
Nazareth provides: he was born of a virgin woman and yet conceived by
the Holy Spirit. In the consciousness of Jesus, it was an easy transition
from his pre–incarnate 2nd Power position as “someone like the Son of
Man” to his incarnation as the “Son of Man” during his ~3.5 year ministry.
Furthermore, it is interesting that the Aramaic ănān [for “clouds”] was
also associated with the messiah in later rabbinic tradition [Tanḥuma
Toledoth 20 and Tg. 1 Chron 3:24].
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Thus, in light of the storm–god Baal as a “rider of the clouds” in Canaanite
mythology, it is not without significance that Jesus is also said to appear
this way, since clouds are frequently connected with God in the Old
Testament [Exodus 16:10; 19:9; Leviticus 16:2; Deuteronomy 1:33; 1
Kings 8:10; Psalm 104:3; Isaiah 19:1]. Thus, this is about the deity of the
messiah in v. 13. In fact, rather than “he approached the Ancient of Days,”
the LXXΟ says “he came like the Ancient of Days,” which is clearly
presenting the messianic “Son of Man” figure as the 2nd Power/Yahweh.
Bogdan Bucur [21st century patristic scholar] summarizes and concludes:
“Two main strands can be discerned in the Wirkungsgeschichte of Daniel
7. A first exegetical strand distinguishes the visionary characters of the
Ancient of Days and Son of Man and interprets them as references to the
Father and the Son. The second understands the two characters as two
aspects of Christ in a way that scholarship has started to term
‘polymorphic Christology.’ These two exegetical avenues are equally
ancient and well–represented in the Christian writings of the 1st
millennium. Nevertheless, since the Christological interpretation of the
Ancient of Days (as part of a Christological polymorphism that also sees
the Son of Man as Christ) has such a robust presence in Byzantine festal
hymnography, it very likely was the more popular interpretation.
Paradoxically, Christian advocacy of the full divinity of Christ finds
itself in agreement with Rabbinic polemics against ‘two–power’ theology
on this point: for the rabbinic texts investigated by Segal, the one and
same God is ‘the one of the sea’ (a young warrior) and ‘the one of Sinai’
(the aged judge), and the two thrones in Daniel’s visions are for the two
aspects of God, justice and mercy; for Christians, it is the one and same
Christ who is ‘the one Lord, both ancient and new,’ as Romanos
expresses it, both Son of Man and Ancient of Days, newborn child and
eternal God. The iconographic exegesis of Daniel 7 seems to have started
by embracing the Christological interpretation, often by inserting visual
elements associated with the Ancient of Days into the iconography of
Isaiah 6 and Ezekiel 1. The coexistence in the same worship space of
images of Christ as Pantokrator and Christ as the Ancient of Days led to
the reinterpretation of the white–haired Christ as an image of the Father,
and this in turn forced the additional depiction of the Spirit as a dove. In
conclusion, Christological polymorphism gradually gave way to
Trinitarian symbolism.”

In other words, although the New Testament writers assigned the epithets,
relevant passages, and imagery associated with the 2nd Yahweh to Jesus
[when interchanging him with the Father], they likewise also interchanged
the Spirit and Jesus, and this resulted in orthodox Trinitarianism:
Benjamin Reynolds [21st century 2nd Temple scholar] also concludes:
“Examining the portrait of the ‘one like a son of man’ in the Old Greek
has indicated some unique characteristics of the ‘son of man’ figure. This
figure is more closely aligned with the Ancient of Days. He is described
as having arrived like the Ancient of Days, appearing with the clouds,
receiving service due a divine figure, and having those standing before the
Ancient of Days approach him. While the ‘one like a son of man’ is similar
to the Ancient of Days, there is no indication of equivalency or
identification. In fact the giving of authority to the ‘one like a son of man’
implies that the son of man figure’s status is different from that of the
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Ancient of Days. The Old Greek portrait of the son of man figure also
suggests that the ‘one like a son of man’ has a messianic nature. This is
most clearly seen in the kingly authority that the figure receives. Other
indications include his kingdom that will not pass away and his distinction
from the holy ones of the Most High. It is possible, then, that the
interpretation of the ‘one like a son of man’ in the Old Greek may have
provided a basis for the more openly messianic and heavenly
interpretations of this figure that are found in later Jewish apocalyptic
literature such as the Similitudes of Enoch and 4 Ezra.”
Thus, since the authority and kingdom given to the “Son of Man” follows
the destruction of the “little” horn of the 4th beast, this means Daniel 7 is
parallel to Daniel 2, which means the manner and timing of its fulfilment
are quite complex. In other words, if Jesus will be seated at the right hand
of God when he arrives on the clouds [Matthew 26:64; Mark 14:62], why
is it also true that Jesus is currently seated at the right hand of God,
waiting for his enemies to be made a footstool for his feet [Hebrew 1:13]?
Likewise why did Jesus declare after his resurrection “all authority has
been given to me in heaven and on earth” [Matthew 28:18]? The answer is
that the coronation of Jesus as king has been inaugurated with his
resurrection and ascension to the Father’s right hand, and for this reason,
Luke associates the fulfilment of Psalm 2:7 with the resurrection of Jesus
[Acts 13:33]. Thus, v. 13 does have a connection with both the
resurrection and the ascension of Jesus, because he has been given
kingdom authority, and yet he also waits for his enemies to be made a
footstool for his feet, such that the complete fulfilment of vv. 13–14 is
found in his 2nd coming. Nevertheless, not until then will we find all
peoples and nations serving him! So, to be escorted into the presence of
the Ancient of Days means Jesus is given a royal audience with the Father.
In other words, the Aramaic verb haqrᵊḇûhî [for “presented”] means he is
escorted by an angelic entourage as he approaches God’s throne! Thus,
before his incarnation, Jesus was with the Father [John 7:29; 16:28; 17:5],
but v. 13 is about his reunion with the Father after accomplishing his work
on earth! So, as a result of his successful completion of the Father’s will,
Jesus is appropriately given an inheritance fitting for an obedient son,
because he was “appointed to be the heir of everything” [Hebrews 1:2],
utilizing Psalm 2:8. The original divine intention for man to have
dominion over all creation [Genesis 1:26] is now entrusted to Jesus!

Thus, v. 14 clarifies that this inheritance for Jesus consists of authority for
ruling, glory appropriate to such an honour, and a kingdom over which to
rule. However, unlike the powerful kingdoms of old depicted in vv. 1–8,
this kingdom will be the most extensive of all; it will be universal. In this
culminating kingdom of history, all peoples, nations, and individuals of
every language group will “serve” him, in the sense of worship to God.
This argues strongly for the deity of Jesus. Nevertheless, in the meantime,
preparation is being made for this future kingdom as various peoples from
all nations continually place their faith in Jesus, are redeemed, and are
transferred “into the kingdom of the Son whom he loves” [Colossians 1:13],
being made citizens for this eternal kingdom [recall Daniel 2:44].
Justin Martyr [2nd century] says: “If such power is shown to have
accompanied and still now accompanies his passion, just think how great
shall be his power at his glorious advent! For, as Daniel foretold, he shall
come on the clouds as the Son of man, accompanied by his angels. Does
not Daniel allude to this very truth when he says that he who received the
eternal kingdom is ‘as a Son of Man’? The words ‘as a Son of Man’
indicate that he would become man and appear as such but that he
would not be born of a human seed. Daniel states the same truth
figuratively when he call Christ ‘a stone cut out without hands’ [recall
Daniel 2:34], for, to affirm that he was cut out without hands signifies that
he was not the product of human activity but of the will of God, the
Father of all, who brought him forth.”
Hippolytus [3rd century] says: “For as two advents of our Lord and
Saviour are indicated in the scriptures, the one being his 1st advent in the
flesh, which took place without honour by reason of his being made
nothing, as Isaiah spoke of him previously, saying, ‘We saw him, and he
had no form or beauty’ [Isaiah 53:2]. But his 2nd advent is announced as
glorious, when he shall come from heaven with the host of angels and the
glory of his Father, as the prophet said, ‘You shall see the King in glory’
[Isaiah 33:17], and, ‘I saw one like the Son of Man coming with the clouds
of heaven; and he came to the Ancient of Days’ and he was brought to
him. And there were given him dominion and honour and glory. Who was
in heaven but the Word unincarnate, who was dispatched to show that he
was on earth and was also in heaven? For he was Word, he was Spirit, he
was Power. The same took to himself the name common and current
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among humankind and was called from the beginning the Son of Man on
account of what he was to be, although he was not yet man, as Daniel
testifies when he says, ‘one like the Son of Man came on the clouds of
heaven.’ Rightly, then, did he say that he who was in heaven was called
from the beginning by this name, the Word of God, as being that from
the beginning. The Father, having put all things in subjection to his own
Son, in heaven and on earth, showed him forth by all as the first–begotten
of God, in order that, along with the Father, he might be approved the
Son of God before angels and be manifested as the Lord also of angels.”
Jerome [4th century] says: “He who was described in the dream of
Nebuchadnezzar as a rock cut without hands, which also grew to be a
large mountain and smashed the earthenware, the iron, the bronze, the
silver, and the gold, is now introduced as the very person of the Son of
Man, so as to indicate in the case of the Son of God how he took on
himself human flesh. This is according to the statement: ‘You men of
Galilee, why do you stand gazing up toward heaven? This Jesus who has
been taken up from you into heaven shall so come in the same way as you
have seen him going into heaven’ [Acts 1:11]. All that is said here
concerning his being brought before almighty God and receiving authority
and honour and royal power is to be understood in the light of the
apostle’s statement: ‘Who, although he was in the form of God, thought it
not robbery to be equal with God; but he emptied himself, taking the form
of a servant, being made in the likeness of humankind, and was found in
his condition to be as a man. He humbled himself, becoming obedient unto
death, even to the death of the cross’ [Philippians 2:6–8]. And if the sect
of the Arians were willing to give heed to all scripture with a reverent
mind, they would never direct against the Son of God the denigration
that he is not on equality with God. Let Porphyry answer the query of
whom out of all humankind this language might apply to, or who this
person might be who was so powerful as to break and smash to pieces the
little horn, whom he interprets to be Antiochus? If he replies that the
princes of Antiochus were defeated by Judas Maccabeus, then he must
explain how Judas could be said to come with the clouds of heaven like
to the Son of Man and to be brought to the Ancient of Days, and how it
could be said that authority and royal power were bestowed on him, and
that all peoples and tribes and language groups served him and that his
power is eternal and not terminated by any conclusion.”

Hilary [4th century Bishop of Poitiers] says: “Glance over the whole course
of time, and realize in what guise he appeared to Joshua the son of Nun, a
prophet bearing his name, or to Isaiah, who relates that he saw him, as the
gospel also bears witness, or to Ezekiel, who was admitted even to
knowledge of the resurrection, or to Daniel, who confesses the Son of Man
in the eternal kingdom of the ages, or to all the rest to whom he presented
himself in the form of various created beings, for the ways of God and for
the works of God, that is to say, to teach us to know God and to profit our
eternal state. Why does this method, expressly designed for human
salvation, bring about at the present time such an impious attack on his
eternal birth? The creation, of which you speak, dates from the
commencement of the ages; but his birth is without end and before the
ages. Maintain this by all means: we are doing violence to words, if a
prophet, or the Lord, or an apostle, or any oracle whatever has described
by the name of creation the birth of his eternal divinity. In all these
manifestations God, who is a consuming fire, is present, as created, in
such a manner that he could lay aside the created form by the same power
by which he assumed it, being able to destroy again that which had come
into existence merely that it might be looked on.”
Cyril [4th century Bishop of Jerusalem] says: “He is called Christ, not for
any unction from human hands but from the Father’s, as having been
anointed for eternal high priesthood on behalf of humanity. He is called
the dead, not as having gone to ‘join the majority,’ like all souls in Hades,
but as the one ‘free among the dead’ [Psalm 88:5; Revelation 1:18]. He is
called Son of Man, not as it is said of each one of us that we sprang from
earth, but in the context of his ‘coming in the clouds of heaven’ to judge
both the living and the dead [John 5:25–27]. He is called Lord, not in the
catachrestic sense in which the title is given to people, but as possessing
lordship by right of nature and forever. He is called Jesus because the
name fits him, and he has that appellation in view of the saving medicine
he brings. He is called Son, not meaning that God promoted him to that
dignity but that he was naturally begotten as Son. What we proclaim is not
one single coming of Christ but a second as well, much fairer than the
first. For the first presented a demonstration of longsuffering, but the
second wears the crown of God’s kingdom. Most things about our Lord
Jesus Christ are twofold. His birth is twofold, once of God before the ages,
and once of the Virgin in the end of the ages. Twice he comes down, once
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all unseen like dew on a fleece, and a second time still future and manifest.
When first he came, he was swaddled in a manger. When next he comes,
he will ‘clothe himself with light as with a garment’ [Psalm 104:2]. At his
first coming ‘he endured the cross, despising the shame’ [Hebrews 12:2];
at his second, he comes surrounded with glory and escorted by hosts of
angels. We do not therefore simply rest on Christ’s first coming, by itself,
but let us look forward also to his second. The Saviour comes again, but
not to be judged again, for he will pass judgment on those who passed
judgment on him, and he who previously kept silence as they judged him
now reminds those lawless people who did their outrageous deeds to him
on the cross and says, ‘these things you have done, and I kept silent’
[Psalm 50:21]. He adapted himself when he came then and taught
humankind by persuasion, but this time it is they who will be forced to
bow to his rule, whether they will or not.”
Chrysostom [4th century Bishop of Constantinople] concludes: “What, I
ask, is more obvious than these words? ‘And all the peoples, tribes and
tongues will serve him.’ See how he embraced every nation of the world.
See how he took the judge’s seat and power. Lest you should think that
this is temporary, he says, ‘These things will not pass away, and his
kingdom will not perish’ but will stay and remain. But if you doubt, you
can be persuaded by considering the matter. Do you see the equality of
honour he has with the Father? Since the Son appeared after the Father,
he says that the Son came with the clouds. But it is clear from the very
clouds that he had existed before then, if indeed he came on them. ‘And
honour was conferred on him,’ namely, the power that he had. ‘And the
peoples, tribes and tongues will serve him.’ Indeed, he had dominion
previously, but then he will take that dominion that he had obtained. For
just as you understand the hair of the Father and the other aspects of the
vision, so you must understand this part of the vision. When you hear ‘it
was given’ and other similar things, you will not think in human terms
about the Son or think lowly of him. For though you saw an old man, you
did not think that he was an old man, so also you must think about the
other things. Do not seek crystal clarity among the prophets, where you
will find instead shadows and riddles, just as you do not seek constant
light in a thunderbolt. Instead, it suffices if light appears for just a bit.”
 341

Summing Up …
This tremendous passage has inspired hundreds of books, articles,
sermons, lectures and media presentations. It has been treated both
honourably and unethically, as most symbol–heavy biblical passages have
been. Thus, one ought to be cautious when drawing conclusions from it:

1. Daniel 7 does not specifically name the nations in the four–

kingdom scheme it utilizes. In other words, since Daniel 2:24–45
begins with Babylon and ends with God’s kingdom rising as the
successor to the 4th kingdom, likewise vv. 9–27 also makes God’s
kingdom the final one. It promises persecution for God’s people
before that victory, without stating all the specific aspects or timing
of that suffering. It leaves previous kingdoms existing even after
God removes the “little” horn [v. 12], so it does not equate its death
with the final judgment day [vv. 21, 25]. Thus, the passage warns
Daniel that many hard days remain for God’s people. They must
persevere, knowing God’s kingdom will belong to them. Jesus
teaches his followers the same principle. He tells them that the
“Son of Man” will come after Jerusalem and the Temple have been
destroyed, and after much persecution [Luke 21:1–28]. Thus, his
disciples will need watchful perseverance [Luke 21:29–36].

2. Recent scholarship has extensively demonstrated that the New

Testament links the ministry of Jesus to vv. 13–14, specifically that
Jesus is the 2nd Power/Yahweh “Son of Man” figure [Mark 10:45;
13:26; 14:62; Luke 22:69–70; John 3:13–15].

3. It is wise for every generation of believers to examine the nature of

rulers and their kingdoms as Daniel has demonstrated [recall
Daniel 1–6]. In other words, we see that when rulers devour, break
down, persecute, and oppress anyone, they become twisted
humans. Nebuchadnezzar discovered this principle [recall Daniel
4], but Belshazzar and the beasts do not [vv. 1–8]. They remind us
that regimes are often brutal. The “little” horn reminds us that
oppressive regimes may oppose God, and often kill his people.
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego recognized this possibility
[recall Daniel 3:16–18]. Nevertheless, God’s kingdom still grows.