Daniel 1

Setting the Standard

 

Outside your window, the view is black as pitch. But what the night is lacking in light, it is more than making up for in sound.

You can hear the rain pounding, followed by what feels like the clatter of a million BBs as hail pelts the roof. You huddle your family close together and try to calm your children by singing little refrains like, “We love the thunder ‘cause the thunder brings rain.” Every rural, small-town kid knows that rain is always a good thing.

Suddenly, a siren pierces through the din. Tornado! You and your wife each scoop up one of the little ones, while your oldest leaps to her feet. You scramble for the steps that lead to the basement. Just before you follow your wife down the stairs, you hear a growing rum- ble. It’s close. Once underground, you hold each other tightly in a small, protected cement alcove as what sounds like a freight train approaches. Soon, the noise is deafening, and you hear glass smash- ing and wood snapping overhead. The floor above you gives way and crashes around your hideaway. Rainwater begins to cover the floor. Your children are crying, your wife is loudly telling them it will be okay, and you are praying with everything you have for the protec- tion of your family.

Then it’s passed. The blast of the tornado pulls away. The rumble of the thunder grows fainter. Soon, all you can hear is rain hitting the debris around you and the sound of dozens of car alarms. You tell your wife to wait with the children as you step out to explore. The view is devastating. You look up and see stars peeking through the clouds—stars where the ceiling of your basement should be. Your house is gone. Your possessions are gone. All that’s left of your for- mer life is huddled with their arms around one other in a corner of your basement. You pause for a moment and thank God for such a marvelous blessing.

I’ve never gone through a tornado. Dr. Rick Yohn, my writing collaborator on this book, has experienced several, and he has also seen firsthand the aftermath of some very devastating twisters. As he and his wife, Linda, drove through some recently hit areas and talked with survivors, many of whom had lost everything, they witnessed differing reactions. Some were in complete shock. Others expressed inconsolable sorrow. But there were many more who, despite their loss, were feeling incredible relief. “We may have lost everything,” they would say, “but at least we have each other.”

The Babylonians swept through Jerusalem like a tornado. Death, destruction, and loss trailed behind them. By the time Daniel and his friends began their long trek to the capital city, they had nothing left of their former lives. And when I say nothing, I don’t just mean they lost their possessions and their comfortable royal lives. After a tornado hits, at least there is the hope that between insurance money and some help from the government, people can rebuild their homes and their businesses. Maybe life can one day get back to normal again.

But for Daniel’s gang, normal was a state of being that no longer existed. They had been in the line of nobility to become somebody in the nation of Judah. They were being groomed for high positions, name recognition, and a life of power in their line of service. Those dreams were now shattered, and all that faced them was an uncertain future that might include slavery, servitude, or possibly a quick death.

One has to believe that the question of “Why?” crossed Daniel’s mind. Why would God have allowed a heathen nation like Babylon to invade and enslave God’s chosen people? But because of Daniel’s upbringing, the answer to this seemingly huge conundrum was quite easy. Daniel was brought up with a knowledge of the Word of God. He would be familiar with the warnings of the prophets like Isaiah and Jeremiah. Being within the royal circle, he had seen how the kings since the days of Josiah had rebelled against the God of their fathers and were following pagan deities. What had been promised since the days of Moses was coming to pass. If the nation rebelled, God would bring punishment. And, as so often happens, the children were about to pay the price for the sins of their fathers.

Daniel and his friends could have been angry at God and bitter against the generations that came before them. That is how so many people react when they are innocent victims of other people’s sins. And, for those who have been victimized, it is totally understand- able that they may descend into long-lasting anger and depression. But what Daniel shows us is that there is a better path. There is a way that lifts one up, rather than letting past circumstances grind one into the ground. It is the way of hope, the way of faith, the way of God.

 

Death March to Babylon

We don’t know what the journey was like for Daniel and his friends. Often, when prisoners were transported, they were stripped naked, chained together, and forced to walk the distance, likely bare- footed. You may have heard the term death march, a forced march of prisoners of war during which those who cannot continue are killed or simply left along the roadside to die. One of the most famous of these in recent history was World War II’s Bataan Death March. In April 1942, 66,000 Filipino and 10,000 American prisoners of war were forced to trek 66 miles through horrific conditions. Those who fell by the wayside were beaten, bayoneted, or shot. Only 54,000 of the original 76,000 made it all the way to the destination.

Think of how violent and cruel that forced journey was. Now, let’s look at the Babylonian death march. Instead of 66 miles, the straight-line distance between Jerusalem and Babylon is more than 550 miles. But nobody traveled in a straight line between the two cities, because lying in the gap was the vast Arabian Desert. Those making the journey were forced to travel north, then arc over the desert in what was known as the Fertile Crescent. Only then could one make the descent southward to Babylon.

So how long of a journey did they make? Rather than look at distance, the best way to estimate the length of the trip is in time. Somewhat less than a century after Daniel and company travelled east to Babylon, Ezra the priest brought a contingent of exiles back west, going home to Jerusalem. We read of his journey, “On the first day of the first month he began his journey from Babylon, and on the first day of the fifth month he came to Jerusalem, according to the good hand of his God upon him” (Ezra 7:9). Feel free to check my math, but by my calculation, that was a four-month road trip. But Ezra and his cohorts were likely in much better shape than the prisoner-of-war crew that was being shuffled into exile. Daniel’s trip probably took a little longer and cost many more lives. Were Daniel and his friends forced to walk the whole way, or were they carted in caged wagons because of their royal pedigree? That’s a question we can’t answer. What we do know is that it had to have been a world- shattering experience for these teens.

And the shake-ups didn’t end when they arrived.

 

A Whole New World

Everything was different. Have you ever visited a foreign country on vacation, one with a different language, culture, and government structure? Very quickly, you realized that you had some challenges ahead of you. It’s likely you had moments of stumbling through asking for directions or ordering meals. Your one consolation through the embarrassment was that you would soon be back in your own country, surrounded by people who thought like you and spoke your language.

Daniel and his friends didn’t have that luxury of return. When they arrived in Babylon, they knew that this was where they would stay. They didn’t even have the comfort of remaining with the rest of the Jewish exiles. Nebuchadnezzar had a plan for them, and holding on to their roots and their identities was not part of it.

Then the king instructed Ashpenaz, the master of his eunuchs, to bring some of the children of Israel and some of the king’s descendants and some of the nobles, young men in whom there was no blemish, but good-looking, gifted in all wisdom, possessing knowledge and quick to understand, who had ability to serve in the king’s palace, and whom they might teach the language and literature of the Chaldeans (Daniel 1:3-4).

Young King Nebuchadnezzar had done some traveling during his military campaigns. Something he had learned as he moved from city to city and culture to culture was that there were some very smart, high-quality young men out in the world. Their only drawback was that they were not Babylonian—yet. His plan was to take their best and brightest and make them his best and brightest.

Who were these cream-of-the-crop candidates? We see from the above passage that they were young men. Old guys need not apply.

Second, they had noble blood flowing through their veins. Sorry peasants and all you riffraff, you’re out. Third, they had to be good- looking and without a blemish. The king’s court had its standards, after all. Finally, they had to be some smart cookies. Nebuchadnezzar wanted young men who not only had a strong grasp on their own culture’s wisdom and knowledge, but who had the ability to quickly pick up the Chaldean language and literature.

One qualification that was not included was that they had to adhere to a common belief system. They were welcome to hold on to whatever gods they worshipped back in their home country. The only caveat was that their old ways could not interfere with Babylon’s new ways. Go ahead and worship your gods, as long as you worship our gods first. For most polytheistic pagan cultures, this was no problem. For the Jews, it was the problem. Written long before in the number one slot on those stone tablets was the command, “You shall have no other gods before me” (Deuteronomy 5:7). There was no wiggle room allowed, even if it was at the demand of a king.

There was another major change facing Daniel and his friends. This one was life-altering and permanent. Several generations earlier, King Hezekiah became sick with a terminal illness. He cried out to God, and the Lord graciously extended his life. At that time, a fledgling kingdom sent envoys with some letters and a present to the king, congratulating him on his recovery. Hezekiah was feeling a little full of himself and decided he wanted to show off to these foreigners. So he gave them a tour of Jerusalem, including his gold and silver, his spices, and his armory. The kingdom these men came from was Babylon.

Soon after their departure, the prophet Isaiah paid Hezekiah a visit. He told the king that he had done a very foolish thing by letting his pride get the best of him and putting all his treasures on display. Then Isaiah prophesied to Hezekiah of a coming time:

Hear the word of the Lord of hosts: “Behold, the days are coming when all that is in your house, and what your fathers have accumulated until this day, shall be carried to Babylon; nothing shall be left,” says the Lord. “And they shall take away some of your sons who will descend from you, whom you will beget; and they shall be eunuchs in the palace of the king of Babylon” (Isaiah 39:5-7).

Daniel and his friends were the fulfillment of this prophecy. They were taken away to Babylon, where they would have been made eunuchs. As additional evidence of this fact, look back to Daniel 1:3. Who was it that was in charge of the young men at their departure? It was Ashpenaz, the master of King Nebuchadnezzar’s eunuchs. Not only were these young men taken from their homes, transported to a faraway land, and placed in a culture that was the polar opposite of righteous and monotheistic, but they were also sexually mutilated so that they would never be able to have children. All their dreams about being a father, passing on the family name, bouncing a toddler on their knee, all gone with a cut. If Job’s wife had been there, she would have concluded that they should just “Curse God and die!” (Job 2:9).

Yet still, we see Daniel and his friends holding on to their hope.

 

Acclimation and Assimilation

The king was now faced with a strategic decision. Here was a batch of freshly arrived Jerusalem eunuchs to join the ones he already had from Egypt and Assyria. If his plan were to work of using these young men as sources of wisdom and influence within his court, he had to make sure their loyalties lay with him. Assassination and intrigue were a constant within the halls of many palaces. If these guys were going to use their brains to plot and scheme, Nebuchadnezzar wanted to make sure they were plotting for him and not against him. He had to find a way to separate them from the loyalty they felt to the homes they left and direct it instead to the land in which they now lived.

There was one great advantage Nebuchadnezzar had with his future advisors. They were all young. Youthful minds are easier to reprogram. They are adaptable. It causes far less grief for a child or teen to acclimate to a new situation than it does an adult. Whereas a captured soldier may need to be compelled at the point of a sword to serve, a young person can be persuaded with a harsh word or, bet- ter yet, an incentive. Thus, what we find in Daniel 1 is a strategy of reprogram and reward.

The first part of the reprogramming was a rebranding. These young men were no longer Jews, they were Babylonians. Thus, they needed Babylonian names.

Now from among those of the sons of Judah were Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah. To them the chief of the eunuchs gave names: he gave Daniel the name Belteshazzar; to Hananiah, Shadrach; to Mishael, Meshach; and to Azariah, Abed-Nego (Daniel 1:6-7).

Back in that time, names meant something. Today, few people understand the origin of their name or its meaning, beyond it maybe belonging to a family member, friend, or historical figure. In the time of Daniel, names were typically used to express character or, more frequently, to honor God. As part of the reprogramming process, Ashpenaz, chief of the eunuchs, instituted a significant change for these young Jews. Their names would still elicit praise, but to a different deity.

Marduk was the chief god of Babylon, the protector of the city. He was also known as Bel, which many might recognize from the Hebrew pronunciation of his name, Baal. His son, Nabu, was the god of wisdom and literature. Mount Nebo, Moses’ vantage point of the Promised Land before his death, bears the name of this “announcer” god. A third god who was worshipped in Babylon was the moon god, Aku. It is these three gods who find their way into the appellations of our newly minted Babylonians.

Daniel’s name means “God is my judge.” In its place, he was given Belteshazzar, “Bel protect the prince.” Imagine this young man, while striving to remain true to his Lord, being labeled with the name of Baal, the one false god who had likely been the greatest stumbling block for wayward Jews over the centuries. Hananiah, who at birth had been given the God-affirming name “Yahweh has acted graciously,” was rechristened with one that celebrated creation rather than the Creator—Shadrach, the “command of Aku.” Mishael’s name became Meshach. “Who is like God?” became “Who is like Aku?” So similar, but so very different. Finally, there was Azariah, whose name celebrated the true God who lovingly comes alongside His people—“Yahweh has helped.” His name became Abednego, or “Servant of Nabu.”

Did this rebranding work to separate these young men from their past? That we are studying the book of Daniel instead of the book of Belteshazzar gives us a hint. With just a few exceptions, whenever Daniel mentioned his Babylonian name, he used some version of the formula “Daniel, whose name was Belteshazzar.” The only times he didn’t use that formula in his book was chapter 4, which is when King Nebuchadnezzar had taken the role of storyteller.

If Daniel insisted on using his own Jewish name in his book, why did he refer to his friends by their Babylonian names? First, we need to realize that there are only three contexts where Daniel talks about these three companions. One is when they are introduced, and we learn about their name conversions. The second is at the end of chapter 2, when the young prophet reveals to Nebuchadnezzar the meaning of his dream. At the end, we read:

Daniel petitioned the king, and he set Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-Nego over the affairs of the province of Babylon; but Daniel sat in the gate of the king (Daniel 2:49).

This refers to official court business, so it makes sense that Daniel would use the court names of his friends. The final usage is the entirety of chapter 3, in which we read the tale of the fiery furnace. His use of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego there is just good storytelling. From a writer’s point of view, having to remind the reader who is who as Daniel switched from his narrative to Babylonian character’s quotes would make the account unreadable. So, like the great author he is, the prophet streamlined his story by using his friends’ Babylonian names, and let us all sit back to enjoy the action.

When deciding whether to fight against these new names, it seems like Daniel and friends decided to go with the flow. There’s nothing in the Mosaic law that prohibited a certain kind of name. And, since they were likely brought up with a knowledge of Jewish history, they would know that having a foreign god in one’s name wasn’t unprecedented. The great hero judge Gideon, after he destroyed the altar of Baal, was given the name Jerubbaal, which means “contender with Baal” or “Baal judges.” Certainly that was a different context, but ultimately, Belteshazzar and Jerubbaal shared the same false god in their names. So these young men took the “Call me anything you like, just don’t call me late for dinner” approach. It turned out, though, that dinner was where the true test of their commitment to God would come.

 

A Change of Diet

Being raised among royalty had many privileges, one of which was good food. Daniel has been portrayed by some health-conscious folks as a committed vegetarian. I would call his vegetarianism more situa- tional, because the chances that he stuck to the green stuff before he was hauled away to Babylon are very slim. In the palace at Jerusalem, food of all types was not a problem. King Solomon’s spread was especially opulent:

Now Solomon’s provision for one day was thirty kors of fine flour, sixty kors of meal, ten fatted oxen, twenty oxen from the pastures, and one hundred sheep, besides deer, gazelles, roebucks, and fatted fowl (1 Kings 4:22-23).

Certainly the economic situation had changed since the Solo- monic heyday, but I have no doubt that meat was still on the palace menu. Once he got to Babylon, Daniel became a vegetarian because he had to, not because he wanted to.

When Daniel arrived in Babylon, he wasn’t thrown as a captive into a cell and fed bread and water. That would not work with Nebu- chadnezzar’s plan of having these young men “serve before the king” (Daniel 1:5). To get the best out of them, he needed them smart and healthy. So he ordered that these new court recruits be given “a daily provision of the king’s delicacies and of the wine which he drank” (verse 5). For most of those who had been taken with Daniel, eating this royal food was wonderful. Mealtime would have included meats, fish, and vegetables cooked into amazing dishes using spices from all over the world. Babylon might have begun to feel more like a for- eign study program at a royal university than forced captivity. Well, except for the whole eunuch thing. But imprisonment in a distant land certainly could have been a lot worse.

But while everybody else was celebrating the menu, Daniel was faced with a dilemma.

Daniel purposed in his heart that he would not defile himself with the portion of the king’s delicacies, nor with the wine which he drank; therefore he requested of the chief of the eunuchs that he might not defile himself (verse 8).

God was very specific in the Mosaic law about what animals could and couldn’t be eaten. There would have been much from the king’s table that didn’t meet up with God’s standards. Some might ask, “Why didn’t Daniel just eat around the bad stuff? If they served him surf and turf, couldn’t he just shove the lobster to the side and eat the steak?” That wouldn’t have worked because the problem was more than just a kosher one. Most meat in those days was offered to the gods before it came to the plate. In Babylon, it seems this was also true of the wine because Daniel decided to reject it also.

Was eating this food really that big of a deal? Think about it: Daniel had been uprooted from his comfortable home. He had been forced on a four-month journey. Then when he arrived, he had been mutilated and told that he was to serve the one responsible for his mutilation. All in all, it had been a lousy period of his life. Could he really be blamed if he partook in some of the few pleasures still available to him? What if he still prayed, read the Scriptures, and tried to always do the right thing? Couldn’t he compromise in this one little area? It’s not like there were any rabbis around to condemn him. Besides, wasn’t it God who had allowed this whole upheaval to happen?

This takes me back to the Garden of Eden and the satanic logic used to seduce Eve into compromise: [The serpent] said to the woman, “Has God indeed said, ‘You shall not eat of every tree of the garden’?” And the woman said to the serpent, “We may eat the fruit of the trees of the garden; but of the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of the garden, God has said, ‘You shall not eat it, nor shall you touch it, lest you die.’” Then the serpent said to the woman, “You will not surely die. For God knows that in the day you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil” (Genesis 3:1-5).

First, the serpent challenged God’s word—“Has God indeed said…?” Then he challenged God’s character—“You will not surely die,” implying that God had lied. The enemy likely used the same tactic on Daniel. “Would compromising the dietary laws really be that bad, given your situation?” And, “God is the one who got you into this mess. See how He’s repaid your righteousness?”

This same kind of spiritual seduction is rampant today, especially in the church. “We’re grown adults, and we’ve both been married before. Is it really that big of a deal if we sleep together?” “God has let me get into this financial mess. Surely, He can’t expect me to tithe when I’m already just getting by.” There’s a reason we are admonished to be wise as a serpent (see Matthew 10:16). The devil is exceptional at using twisted logic to make sin seem not only okay, but beneficial and our right.

But righteousness is not fluid. Morality is not situational. God has called us to a standard, and when we flaunt that standard, it cre- ates a barrier between ourselves and Him. Daniel was committed to ensuring that his actions were never responsible for driving a wedge between himself and God.

Though most of the captive Jews were unfaithful to God, those who placed Him first in their lives did not go unnoticed by their Father in heaven. After Daniel and his friends were confronted with the non- kosher, idol-sacrificed diet, we see two very important words: “But Daniel.” That beautiful conjunction “but” is so often used in Scrip- ture to contrast the unrighteous with the righteous, the bad news with the good, destruction with hope.

Remember back in Genesis when God looked around the world and saw how corrupt mankind had become? It grieved Him when He compared the beauty of when it all started with the sinful ugliness of what it had become.

So the Lord said, “I will destroy man whom I have created from the face of the earth, both man and beast, creeping thing and birds of the air, for I am sorry that I have made them.” But Noah found grace in the eyes of the Lord (Genesis 6:7-8).

There was sin, sorrow, and impending destruction. Then came those future-altering words, “But Noah,” and with them came hope and joy and an incredible glimpse into how holiness and love are per- fectly balanced in the character of God.

Daniel would not give in like the others. He would not defile himself with the king’s menu. He would stand for his beliefs. But he knew this was a risk. Standing against the orders of the king was a near foolproof method for getting yourself killed. So to pull this off, he and his buddies were going to have to be smart.

They formulated a plan.

But God was way ahead of them. Even before they had made their commitment, He was at work preparing their overseer to be open to their suggestion. “Now God had brought Daniel into the favor and goodwill of the chief of the eunuchs” (Daniel 1:9). This is why we never need to fear doing the right thing. Before we are even faced with a moral dilemma, God knows whether we will say yes to righteousness, and He has already begun working out the situation.

 

The Boys Make a Stand

Daniel and his boys determined to stand with God and not eat the food. They knew the potential consequences, but to them, faithfulness was more important than life. How did they approach it? Did they go on strike? Did they march around the dining hall with chants and signs? Absolutely not. Instead of using a negative approach to a negative situation, they turned it around to a positive.

Daniel said to the steward whom the chief of the eunuchs had set over Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah, “Please test your servants for ten days, and let them give us vegetables to eat and water to drink. Then let our appearance be examined before you, and the appearance of the young men who eat the portion of the king’s delicacies; and as you see fit, so deal with your servants.” So he consented with them in this matter, and tested them ten days (Daniel 1:11-14).

The steward hesitated. He was afraid for his life. If anything went awry with his charges, it wouldn’t just cause him a reprimand or even his job. A downturn in the health of Daniel, et al., said the man, “would endanger my head before the king” (verse 10). That’s even worse than some of the punishments I and my fellow soldiers experienced in the Israeli Defense Forces, although only slightly. So Daniel made him a proposition he couldn’t refuse: “Feed us vege- tables and water for ten days, then see how we are.” It was brilliant! No downside for the steward, only the potential of positive results. The man readily agreed.

Ten days passed, and it was time for the inspection. The steward looked the four young men over and saw that “their features appeared better and fatter in flesh than all the young men who ate the portion of the king’s delicacies” (verse 15). So amazing were the results that the rest of the young men had their “delicacies” taken away and replaced with vegetables, instantaneously making Daniel, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego the most disliked members of the king’s training program.

God’s hand is so wonderfully evident in this account. A vegetar- ian diet can certainly bring noticeable changes in a person’s health over time. But for there to be that significant a difference in only ten days shows that God was there quite literally tipping the scales in their favor. This takes us back to the point we discussed earlier. When we determine to do what is right, the Lord will be there with us 100 percent of the time. He won’t just be watching us from a distance, rooting for us and hoping it all turns out okay. He will be intimately and intricately involved.

And the blessings for obedience are ongoing. God didn’t just help out Daniel and his friends in this instance, then say, “See you around.” As they kept their eyes on Him, He kept His eyes on them.

As for these four young men, God gave them knowledge and skill in all literature and wisdom; and Daniel had understanding in all visions and dreams. Now at the end of the days, when the king had said that they should be brought in, the chief of the eunuchs brought them in before Nebuchadnezzar. Then the king interviewed them, and among them all none was found like Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah; therefore they served before the king. And in all matters of wisdom and understanding about which the king examined them, he found them ten times better than all the magicians and astrologers who were in all his realm (verses 17-20).

God caused them to excel through the program. Then, at graduation, they not only outshone the rest of their class, but these teens were far wiser than any of the seasoned wise men in the kingdom. Now, I’d like to attribute this to the fact that, like me, they were Jews of the tribe of Judah. However, quality of this type goes far beyond even that pedigree. These young men reaped what they had sown. They were faithful in their actions, and the Lord was faithful in His gifts and blessings.

It is unlikely that any of us will face a life-and-death decision over righteousness. But we do face situations every day when we have the choice to say yes to God or yes to ourselves. Some of these may be big decisions, but most will be small. In those lesser times, the enemy may whisper in our ear as he did to Eve, “It’s really no big deal. Just this one time.”

Every decision as to whether we sin or not is a big one, because every sin is big. Not only does it separate us from our closeness with God, but it has a cumulative effect. Jesus told His disciples, “He who is faithful in what is least is faithful also in much; and he who is unjust in what is least is unjust also in much” (Luke 16:10). I have seen far too many believers shipwreck their faith after giving in to little sinful compromises.

Peace comes from knowing you are right with God. Hope comes from holding on to the promises the Lord gives to us when we are right with Him. Daniel experienced a bounty of spiritual blessings because of his faithfulness. In the next chapter, we’ll see that faith- fulness take him into the throne room of the king.