Saturday, March 5, 2011

Day 256. Daniel 3-4

Kings often suffer from forgetfulness—history abounds with examples to prove it. That's why they make the same mistakes over and over again.
That's what happens to King Nebuchadnezzar in our reading for today. The dream of the crumbling statue that so terrified him in yesterday's reading is no sooner explained to him, than the king in his overweening pride commences to make an enormous golden statue—essentially an idol--of himself. And once the great poppet is set up, his herald is instructed to command all his officials—"satraps," by the way, were the highest ranking provincial administrators in the Babylonian and Persian empires—shall "fall down and worship the golden statue" that the king has erected. Indeed at a designated signal all the kings subjects—"all the people, nations, languages" (3:7) of his empire—are to worship his golden image.
Of course we know that the Jews cannot do that, bound as they are by the First Commandment which forbids the fashioning and worshipping of images. So we are told that "certain Chaldeans" denounce them to the king--Snitches! They are almost certainly moved by jealousy and political ambition. In particular they snitch on "certain Jews whom [the king has] appointed over the affairs of the province of Babylon: Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego" (3:12).
When he hears of it the king is furious—imagining anyone not wanting to worship your image! He threatens to heave the three of them "into a furnace of blazing fire" if they persist in refusing to worship him (3:15). The problem is a conflict of loyalties. Modern people might see it as conflict between the individual and the state, but from the point of view of the Book of Daniel the clash is between the king and the LORD himself. The question is: Who is God? Nebuchadnezzar has forgotten the most basic fact of human life—the arrangements mortals make for governing themselves are transitory and both kings and nations die. The Jews are put in this world remind us all where our ultimate loyalties lie—with the eternal rather than the temporary. (The Jews tend to forget this too.)
But the three young Judeans remember well enough, and they make this heroic reply to the angry king—"If our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the furnace of blazing fire and out of your hand, O king, let him deliver us." You note that the three do not make any demands of God. They do not claim a miracle as their right. Instead, they remain obedient to the will of God whether that means life or death—it is up to their God to decide which. They are only willing to say that if they are not delivered, "be is known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods, and we will not worship the golden statue that you have set up" (3:17-18). So there!
All attentive Sunday school children know what happens next. The king is filled with rage—he is literally burning. He orders the furnace stoked up to match his fury. He has the three young men bound and cast into the furnace, which by now is so overheated that the raging flames kill the men who lift Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego" and cast them into the fire (3:22). Collateral damage, we might call it. In any case, it is manifest that the king is has lost control of his temper and is losing control of the situation.
And if that weren't bad enough, the king is further alarmed because in the furnace he can see not three men bound, but "four men unbound, walking in the middle of the fire," unscathed, and the fourth having the appearance of a god" (3:25). The truth of the situation is not lost upon us, dear reader—the three young Jews with the difficult names are not alone, even in the fiery furnace—and neither are we in our furnace. But the king is dazzled. He summons the three out of the furnace, and they emerge, totally un-singed, with "not even the smell of fire" about them (3:27). Nebuchadnezzar recognizes a miracle when he sees one, and he issues another royal decree, this one to the effect that anyone who "utters blasphemy against the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego shall be torn limb from limb . . . for there is no other God who is able to deliver in this way" (3:29).
Now we might think he has learned his lesson, but we would be wrong. (Kings often suffer from forgetfulness.) Nebuchadnezzar has another dream. He tells us about it in the form of an imperial letter or proclamation that begins with this salutation—"King Nebuchadnezzar to all peoples, nations, and languages that live through the earth: May you have abundant prosperity!" (4:1). He then gives glory to "the Most High God" and acknowledges the lesson that he learned through the first of his dreams—and will shortly to his sorrow have to relearn—that kings rise and fall, but the LORD's "sovereignty is from generation to generation" (4:3).
The king confides in all the peoples through the earth the dream that he says had that "frightened" and "terrified" him. (Ancient people put more stock in dreams than we can imagine putting.) He says that he sought the advice of the Chaldean diviners about it, but they could give him no interpretation worthy of the name. So at last he consulted Daniel "who is endowed with the spirit of the holy gods" (4:8).
Then Nebuchadnezzar recounts his dream. In it he sees "a world tree," so enormous that its top reaches heaven. Animals and birds find shelter under its branches, and its abundant fruit "provided food for all" creatures, and "from it all living beings were fed" (4:12). But now the dream takes an alarming turn. "A holy watcher"--an angel we suppose, or a god-- "coming down from heaven" cries out—"Cut down the tree and chop off its branches" (4:14). All that is spared is the stump of the tree, bound with iron, which is left to be "bathed with the dew of heaven," in the company of "the animals of the field in the grass of the earth" (4:13). The tree is a person, obviously, but who is it? We know, but the great Nebuchadnezzar is clueless. Whoever the tree is, the watcher says, "his mind [will be] changed from that of a human, and the mind of an animal will be given to him" (4:16). All this will take place, the voice of
the watcher says, in order to demonstrate that "the Most High is sovereign over the kingdom of mortals"(4:17).
This is the dream Nebuchadnezzar submits to Daniel for his interpretation. Now it is Daniel's turn to be "terrified" because the explanation of it is worse than the dream--and it is certainly more dangerous to his own well-being. But the king insists upon an interpretation. So Daniel reveals that the tree is the king himself—Surprise! –and the sentence the Most High has passed upon him is degradation and madness. As Daniel says: "You shall be driven away from human society, and your dwelling shall be with the wild animals. You shall be made to eat grass like oxen, and you shall be bathed with the dew of heaven, and seven times shall pass over you" (4:25)--"seven times" means "seven years" (see Daniel 7:25)—before your will knowledge that "heaven is Sovereign" over you. Daniel then advises the king to "atone for [his] sins with righteousness, and your iniquities with mercy" (4:27), and perhaps things will go easier on him.
We are not told whether the king takes this excellent counsel; we can assume he did not, because twelve months later Nebuchadnezzar was walking on the wall of Babylon, exalting in the magnificence of his city and his own power, when he is struck with madness and is reduced to eating "grass like an oxen" (4:32). His mental illness reduces him to the level of a beast—"his hair grew as long as eagles' feathers and his nails became like birds' claws" (4:33).
The humbling of Nebuchadnezzar remind us of the humbling of Pharaoh in the book of Exodus, and it is undertaken for the same reason—to punish his pride and show him who is boss. It comes, however, to a more merciful end. After seven years of insanity, his reason returns to him. His lesson is learned and he returns to imperial power, but with a sobering insight—"the inhabitants of the earth are accounted as nothing" even kings (4:35). God's power is sovereign and endures forever, and his decisions are above censure or reproach (4:35). So the proud king is harshly disciplined; the mighty tyrant is chastened by the fear of the LORD, who alone is able "to bring low those who walk in pride" (4:37).

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