For more than 150 years, the prophecy of Daniel 2 has been relied upon as a workhorse of Seventh-day Adventist evangelism, the leading source of the SDA understanding of history, and a formative element in the Church’s self-understanding. Is the horse tiring? Should it be retired to the stable or sent out to rest in green pastures after years of faithful service?

To judge by the confidence expressed with respect to Daniel 2 in this week’s lesson guide, the answer is No. Nebuchadnezzar’s dream of the four kingdoms of gold, silver, bronze, and iron is presented as a prophecy that speaks in a representative way about the world’s history, still holding out the promise that these kingdoms, picturing a world in decline, will give way to the eternal kingdom of God.

Having preached on this prophecy to uninitiated audiences myself and having witnessed its power to capture the imagination, I am not one to advocate that Daniel 2 should be sent into retirement. The lesson quarterly for this Sabbath is content to rehearse the traditional verities with respect to the various metals that constitute the image, faithfully listing the historical referents. If those who discuss the topic in Sabbath School classes in the global family of Adventists follow the Bible Study Guide, there will be no surprises. It only remains to be seen whether the story of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream is able to generate wonder, or whether its luster is dimmed by the contempt that tends to follow in the wake of familiarity with the subject.

I sense two aspects of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream that are underexposed in the priorities set by the lesson author, or rather, two possible uses of Daniel 2 not seriously pursued. The one relates to its view of reality, the other to its theological message.

"No one on earth" (Dan. 2:10)

Whether Ernst Troeltsch (1865–1923) merely articulated a view already taken for granted in his day or was instrumental in winning acceptance for it, the worldview of Daniel 2 envisions a reality that conflicts with at least one pillar in his paradigm. Troeltsch wished to apply the principle of analogy to the study of religious phenomena, meaning that the probability of an alleged occurrence is proportional to its conformity with normal human experience.1 Claims of exceptional occurrences are by definition suspect; they are, in fact, impossible, because the criterion for what can be admitted as true holds veto power over assertions and claims that are exceptional.

Daniel 2 challenges this outlook, proceeding so deftly and with such enticing entertainment value as to suggest implicitly that the principle of analogy is nothing new. Indeed, perhaps the prophecy deconstructs the notion that our time has come up with questions never before entertained. Perhaps, too, its emphasis and implicit awareness of a key paradigm of modernity can serve as evidence that Seventh-day Adventists are not entirely off the mark in giving this chapter a key role in their arsenal.

Nebuchadnezzar has had a dream that, from the outset, is perceived as unusual (2:1–3). When he brings his dream to the attention of his advisors, they, too, respond that the assignment does not fall within the parameter of usual expectations (2:7, 10). Admitting their limitations, they concede that "no one on earth…can reveal what the king demands" (2:10); the king must look to the gods for help on this one, but the gods are "not with mortals" and may not answer the king’s summons (2:11). Daniel drives home the same point. In his eyes, too, the king’s dream and his request belong to the realm of the unusual (2:27, 28). Daniel 2 is undeterred by the principle of analogy because it is precisely the fact of it being unusual that is the point.

Sigmund Freud (1856–1939) is also of interest in this connection. Like Nebuchadnezzar and Daniel, he considered dreams to be a vital source of insight into the human condition. Unlike Daniel, Freud was entirely Troeltschian, believing dreams to have no other possible source than the human mind and seeing the phenomenon of dreams to be nothing other than wish fulfillment. On both counts, Daniel 2 charts its own course whether as to source or content. Considering the Freudian notion of dreams as wish fulfillment, it is hard to place Nebuchadnezzar’s dream in the category of a wish fulfilled.

Not By Hand (Dan. 2:34, 45)

The high point of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream relates to the stone that strikes the awe-inspiring statue. According to the translation of the NRSV, Daniel reporting the bare facts of the dream, "a stone was cut out, not by human hands" (2:34). When the time comes to explain its meaning, Daniel puts this feature in focus once more, recalling for the benefit of the king, "you saw that a stone was cut from the mountain not by hands" (2:45).

To most readers—including Adventists who have relied on this workhorse of prophecy for plowing, sowing, and reaping—the emphasis has always been on the agency producing the stone. The lesson this time around introduces nothing new on this point. The four kingdoms are human kingdoms, brought onto the stage of history by human agency. The stone kingdom, the fifth, is different because it represents the kingdom of God. The hand in question, or rather the absence of a hand, means that God is at work, bringing an end to the human kingdoms with one stroke of God’s invisible finger.

It is, of course, not wrong to read the symbols this way, but there may be more to Daniel’s language in this respect than meets the eye. Strictly speaking, Daniel does not say that the hand in question was not a human hand. There was no hand, period, human or otherwise. In Hebrew and Aramaic, the word for hand, jad, is also the word for power.

Taking this connotation a step further, the most remarkable aspect of the stone that strikes the image is not only that it counts on God as its agent. The contrasts are not only between human and divine agency, the one transient, the other enduring and eternal. It is also a statement about method. The divine kingdom comes about "without hand" (KJV), and "without hand" can also mean without the use of power. In fact, in the book of Daniel jad has precisely this connotation toward the end of the book. "When the power [jad] of the holy people has been finally broken," says the NIV translation of Daniel 12:7, "all these things will be completed."

This interpretation introduces a striking and missing emphasis into the theme of judgment that the lesson author wishes to make the centerpiece of our reading of Daniel this quarter. The judgment then in question is not only an event at a specific point in time, a judicial verdict that precedes the inevitable execution by the divine judge. It is also the story about the transitory nature of human kingdoms, all stepping onto stage by the use of hands in the sense of fearsome and cruel use of power.

Nebuchadnezzar’s dream has not exhausted its potential to enlighten, the workhorse of prophecy ever ready to work the field one more time. The kingdoms and empires of the world, already wobbling on feet of iron and clay, are imploding. What will arise in their place is the kingdom that comes "without hand."

Visit Spectrum’s Message Board for an ongoing discussion of this quarter’s subject, "The Gospel, 1844, and Judgment"

Notes and References

1. Ernst Troeltsch, Zur Religiösen Lage, Religionsphilosophie und Ethik (Tübingen: Verlag von J. C. B. Mohr [Paul Siebeck], 1913), 729–53.

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