By Ryan Bell
A Commentary on the Sabbath School Lesson for October 30—November 5, 2004, "An Ancient Death Decree"
The political scene in Daniel 6 should be very familiar to us. It should also present some stark differences that challenge our discipleship.
This week, Americans go to the polls to elect a president and a variety of congressional leaders. For over a year they have been bombarded with messages from men and women vying for positions of power. It all culminates in a decision made this week.
Yet Daniel stands above the politics. He did not go to Babylon seeking power. To the contrary, Daniel was deported, taken as a slave from Judah. Upon arriving in Babylon, Daniel was chosen for special training and ultimately a place in the Babylonian government. Through the years Daniel successfully walked the fine line between his allegiance to the God of his fathers and his duty to serve the foreign rulers to whom God had sent him. It would have been easy for Daniel to bend under the pressure to conform. From the very beginning his traditions were challenged and his loyalty tested. Daniel never wavered. He remembered who he was and to whom he owed primary allegiance.
Now, after a regime change and in a time of political tension, Daniel was chosen to be chief of staff in Darius’s administration. Not surprisingly, the opposition pulled out all the stops. They set traps. I imagine video surveillance, wiretaps, and secret agents ordered to follow Daniel and catch him in a compromising situation. None of these strategies worked, and the Bible testifies, "They could find no corruption in him, because he was trustworthy and neither corrupt nor negligent" (Dan. 6:4). It’s almost impossible to imagine such a situation today!
Not giving up without a fight, Daniel’s political rivals developed a new plan. If you can’t catch him doing something wrong, catch him doing something right. Darius, King of Media, flattered by the governors’ proposal did what all self-respecting dictators do—he demanded absolute allegiance from the citizens on pain of death.
Daniel had been here before. This kind of conflict of allegiance was typical for a Jew living and working in a pagan empire. When Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego (or, if you have kids, Rack, Shack, and Benny) were threatened with death in the face of similar demands, they remained loyal to God and defied the king. Even before that Daniel placed himself in jeopardy by refusing to eat the king’s food, which would have violated his Jewish customs.
Today, in dozens of regimes around the world, this sort of absolute allegiance is demanded. Christians give their lives because they choose to follow Daniel’s example. The story of his faithfulness inspires the radical way in which they practice their faith.
In the United States, up until very recently, this type of total allegiance has not been demanded. Many Americans have given it without being asked, but most have embraced the genius of America—the freedom to place other allegiances first. However in this post-9/11 world, more is being required. Dissenters are branded "unpatriotic" and freedoms are discarded in exchange for promises of security. Even Christians have forgotten that safety is not the first consideration. In fact, God never calls his people to a life of safety. Jesus said exactly the opposite—"If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me" (Mark 8:34). In the famous words of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, "When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die."
Certainly, if this story teaches us anything it teaches us that this kind of loyalty is what God requires. Nothing—not our safety, not patriotism, not even a denomination—deserves our absolutely loyalty. The minute we begin making compromises like this we are heading down the path of idolatry. It may not be a ninety-foot image on the plain of Dura, but to the degree that it is more subtle, it is more insidious and dangerous.
As a pastor, I’ve been asked why Daniel had to pray at his window. After all, God would hear his prayer just the same if he simply closed the shutters. That way he could practice his religion and spare his life.
As I reflect on that question, I realize it’s a little like asking Rosa Parks why she didn’t just move to the back of the bus. After all, the seats were just the same in the back. She could get a ride to her destination and save herself the trouble of all those angry white folks. I think Ms. Parks would say, "It’s the principle of the thing!" She had had enough of the evil institution of racism and she wasn’t going to take it anymore, even at the cost of her life. Thanks to heroic leaders like Martin Luther King, Jr., and Mahatma Gandhi we have terminology for this behavior—we call it civil disobedience, nonviolent resistance, or peaceful protest.
Whatever you call it, it is an oft-neglected part of Christian witness in the Western world. Yet it remains part of the holiness that is God’s vision for his people. I grew up thinking that Daniel’s decision had mostly to do with his personal piety, and certainly that dimension is there in the story. But if that was the main point he most certainly should have closed the shutters. The fact that he prayed publicly in spite of the decree points to the fact that public piety was primary.
What’s more, this story teaches us that there are profound intersections of personal and public holiness. One of those intersections is worship. The notion of worship as public witness is perhaps nowhere more powerfully demonstrated than here in Daniel 6. The significance of this cannot be overstated, especially for Christians for whom prayer has been reduced to personal piety and practiced in the privacy of one’s own home. That is the formative power of this narrative and something that should not be lost on Christians living in America and elsewhere in a world of nationalistic ideologies.
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