The King of Heaven — Part One

I invite you to turn to Daniel and to chapter 4. We do so in acknowledgment of the fact that, as the psalmist says, “It is a good thing to give thanks to the Lord” and “to sing [praise] to your name, O Most High.”[1] And we are weekly thankful for those who at significant expense to themselves prepare their hearts and bring their gifts to bear upon what we do in order that we might be better enabled to do what God asks for us to do. We’re very thankful.

Daniel chapter 4. It’s a long chapter. Once again, I hope that you’re doing your homework. I won’t read it all, but I encourage you to read it, if you haven’t done so, later on.

Daniel 4:1:

“King Nebuchadnezzar to all peoples, nations, and languages, that dwell in all the earth: Peace be multiplied to you! It has seemed good to me to show the signs and wonders that the Most High God has done for me.

How great are his signs,
 how mighty his wonders!
His kingdom is an everlasting kingdom,
 and his dominion endures from generation to generation.

“I, Nebuchadnezzar, was at ease in my house and prospering in my palace. I saw a dream that made me afraid. As I lay in bed the fancies and the visions of my head alarmed me. So I made a decree that all the wise men of Babylon should be brought before me, that they might make known to me the interpretation of the dream. Then the magicians, the enchanters, the Chaldeans, and the astrologers came in, and I told them the dream, but they could not make known to me its interpretation. At last Daniel came in before me—he who was named Belteshazzar after the name of my god, and in whom is the spirit of the holy gods—and I told him the dream, saying, ‘O Belteshazzar, chief of the magicians, because I know that the spirit of the holy gods is in you and that no mystery is too difficult for you, tell me the visions of my dream that I saw and their interpretation. The visions of my head as I lay in bed were these: I saw, and behold, a tree in the midst of the earth, and its height was great. The tree grew and became strong, and its top reached to heaven, and it was visible to the end of the whole earth. Its leaves were beautiful and its fruit abundant, and in it was food for all. The beasts of the field found shade under it, and the birds of the heavens lived in its branches, and all flesh was fed from it.

“‘I saw in the visions of my head as I lay in bed, and behold, a watcher, a holy one, came down from heaven. He proclaimed aloud and said thus: “Chop down the tree and lop off its branches, strip off its leaves and scatter its fruit. Let the beasts flee from under it and the birds from its branches. But leave the stump of its roots in the earth, bound with a band of iron and bronze, amid the tender grass of the field. Let him be wet with the dew of heaven. Let his portion be with the beasts in the grass of the earth. Let his mind be changed from a man’s, and let a beast’s mind be given to him; and let seven periods of time pass over him. The sentence is by the decree of the watchers, the decision by the word of the holy ones, to the end that the living may know that the Most High rules the kingdom[s] of men and gives it to whom he will and sets over it the lowliest of men.” This dream I, King Nebuchadnezzar, saw. And you, O Belteshazzar, tell me the interpretation, because all the wise men of my kingdom are not able to make known to me the interpretation, but you are able, for the spirit of the holy gods is in you.’

Verse 24:

“‘This is the interpretation, O king: It is a decree of the Most High, which has come upon my lord the king, that you shall be driven from among men, and your dwelling shall be with the beasts of the field. You shall be made to eat grass like an ox, and you shall be wet with the dew of heaven, and seven periods of time shall pass over you, till you know that the Most High rules the kingdom[s] of men and gives it to whom he will. And as it was commanded to leave the stump of the roots of the tree, your kingdom shall be confirmed for you from the time that you know that Heaven rules. Therefore, O king, let my counsel be acceptable to you: break off your sins by practicing righteousness, and your iniquities by showing mercy to the oppressed, that there may perhaps be a lengthening of your prosperity.’

“All this came upon King Nebuchadnezzar.”

Thanks be to God for his Word.

Well, let’s pray together, shall we?

Father, we bow now before your majesty, and we pray that as we turn to the Bible, that you will help us. It’s so easy to be distracted in all that we face around us and within us. So we pray that the words of the song that were played for us in the middle part of our offering may become our experience. For we humbly pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.

God is sovereign over the rise and fall of earthly kingdoms.

Well, we’ve been learning that God is sovereign over the rise and fall of earthly kingdoms. This good news that was being conveyed by Daniel, initially to those who were the exiles from Judah, was an encouragement to them, because it was relatively easy for them to make the assumption that somehow or another, the gods of the Babylonians were stronger, more effective than the God whom they had come to worship. They had been guilty of idolatry, they had failed to do what God said to do, and in his judgment, he had brought them into this circumstance.

We this morning find ourselves, in Christ, living as aliens and strangers, and we may also from time to time be tempted to think that the prevailing forces around us are stronger than the affirmations that we make—for example, in the songs that we’ve already been singing. And therefore, as we have often said, the doctrine of providence is a really wonderful pillow upon which to put our heads at the end of the day and is a bright and a shining light when a new day dawns. And underlying that is, of course, this matter of God’s sovereignty—that God is a sovereign God.

When Jonathan Edwards wrote about this and preached about this in his day, he said that to emphasize the sovereignty of God was simply to emphasize that God is really God; that he is not a figment of our imagination; he is not a philosophical construct; he is not woven into the substructure of humanity. Pantheism is not biblical Christianity. And so it is that in many ways, the doctrine of the sovereignty of God becomes something of a litmus test in the life of a person’s response to God. There’s all the difference in the world between somebody saying, “Oh, you know, I like the idea of God,” or “It helps me out every so often to think that there is something,” or “I find I’ve got peace in my heart”—whatever it might be. All of those things may be said without the person having any conviction at all that God is the creator and sustainer of the universe, that without him nothing has been made that has been made,[2] and that he is the one who purposefully is fashioning everything “according to the [eternal] counsel of his will.”[3]

Our good friend Sinclair Ferguson, picking up on that, says, “No truth about God is more likely to evoke either humility or rebellion.”[4] “No truth about God is more likely to evoke either humility or rebellion.” So, for example, you can test yourself, even as I speak to you now: Is your response humility before the fact that God, who knows exactly what he’s doing, is accomplishing everything according to the purpose of his will? Do you bow down before the mystery of that and say, “Father, I trust you”? Or do you find yourself, in your heart, standing up, as it were, on your hind legs and saying, “No, no, no, no, not for a moment”? It is in many ways a litmus test of where we stand before God.

And so, in Daniel’s dealings with Nebuchadnezzar here in this chapter, we find that this is being worked out. It’s an interesting chapter for a number of reasons. We won’t go into them all. But you will notice, perhaps, that it both begins as it ends, and that is with a doxology, with a hymn of praise to God. And the striking thing about it is that this hymn is to be found on the lips of a pagan king.

And as he begins his statement, you will notice that he is addressing an audience that is quite exceptional. He’s writing now and speaking, verse 1, “to all peoples, nations, and languages.” In other words, in contemporary terms, if he was to call a press conference, then all of the world’s press would be there. If I were to call a press conference, no one would be there. I’m not sure even my wife would be there. “What do you have to say, and why would we listen to you?” But no, this fellow would have had so many followers on Facebook, on Instagram, on Twitter, whatever it was—so many likes, even though he was quite unlikeable, because he was a huge, big king of a huge, big kingdom. His kingdom stretched from the Persian Gulf in the east to the Mediterranean Sea on the west. It stretched from Egypt in the south to Iran in the north. Just take a map out and look at it this afternoon, after you’ve had lunch, and you’ll see that when he says, “I’m addressing all the peoples, all the nations, all the languages,” that huge chunk of the Middle East is under his domain.

And as he addresses them, you’ll notice in verse 2 what he says: “It has seemed good to me to show…” People would have expected that sentence to be finished differently: “to show my architectural achievements,” “to show my hanging gardens,” “to show how successful I have been militarily,” or whatever it might be. “No, no,” he says, “it has seemed good to me to show the signs and wonders that the Most High God has done for me.”

All of God’s works are right, and all of his ways are just.

And you’ll notice it’s not the first-person singular that he’s dealing with; it’s the third-person: “How great are his signs, his wonders, his kingdom, his dominion.” Oh, he suddenly discovered that this God is a sovereign God! He is responding now not with rebellion but with humility. He has come to understand the fact that all of his works are right and all of his ways are just. And he explains how this has happened. In the same way, if you read mystery novels—I do; I like them very much. They’re good relaxation, and particularly murder mysteries—not so much because I’m interested in murder, but I want to find out who did it. And I’m not one of those who reads the end. It seems to me to be a waste of money, and I don’t like to do that. But you read the clues as you’re going through in order that you might finally get to grips with the entire mystery itself. And that’s what Nebuchadnezzar says. He says, “God in his mercy has given me signs and he has given me wonders in order that I might understand the mystery of this high king of heaven.”

“Now,” he says, “I want to tell you how this came about.” Beginning in verse 4, he says, “I … was at ease in my house and prospering in my palace.” Everything was hunky-dory. Everything was going nicely along, in the same way that some of you are here this morning, and pretty well everything is fine, and by and large, everything’s okay. And then he says, “I went to sleep.” “To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there’s the rub.”[5] “And I saw a dream that made me afraid.” So, while he’s at ease and while he’s prospering, into his life comes this—in the same way that it can come, as I’ve often said to us, with the doctor’s office’s call, with the results of the blood test. It only takes just that to say, “And so, what is all this ease and all this prosperity that you have?” “I was at ease, and I was prospering”

It makes me think, actually, as I speak, of another fellow—remember, Jesus spoke about him—who was doing particularly well. His business was just advancing remarkably, and he decided that what he would do is he’d just expand it to the nth degree. And then he said, “I will take my ease.” And Jesus says, “What a foolish thing to do! Don’t you realize that this night your soul will be required of you”[6]—as if somehow or another, prosperity is a soft enough bed on which to find peace; as if somehow or another, ease and comfort is a wide enough blanket under which to find security. You don’t need Nebuchadnezzar, sixth century BC, to point this out. You just need to exist, and to look around, and to realize how compellingly relevant this observation is.

So, anyway, as he lay in his bed, the fancies and the visions of his head alarmed him. And as a result of his alarm, he does what we would expect him to do now, having come to know him fairly well: he issued a decree. Like Old King Cole, he calls for his pipe in the middle of the night, and he calls for his fiddlers three, in order that they might then be able to give him the interpretation of the dream.

Verse 7, we’re not surprised that these characters are reliably, consistently, magnificently incompetent, and “they could not make known to me its interpretation.” Quite amazing, isn’t it, how people go back again and again, again to the same thing? Why do you keep going there? You know there’s no answer there! But again and again, alarmed, I’ll go back to my astrologer. I’ll go back to my whatever it might be. And off he goes. No answers there. There are no answers there.

So Daniel arrives. Verse 8: “Daniel came in.” Verse 9: he says, “I know you can handle this.” Well, actually, Daniel had told him back in chapter 2 that he couldn’t handle it, that nobody could, but that God, the God who is in heaven, would be able to handle it.[7] And so he recounts what has happened to him—the dream, the big tree, with the top reaching to heaven, making us think again, perhaps, about Genesis 11 and the great Tower of Babel, pointing up in all of its apparent strength and significance—and then this great tree being visible to the ends of the whole earth, with beautiful leaves and abundant fruit and food for all, and the beasts found shade under it, and the birds lived in its branches, and all the flesh was fed from it. It’s quite a lovely picture, isn’t it? In many ways, its representative—and Nebuchadnezzar must have had some inkling along these lines—of his very kingdom. His kingdom stretched from shore to shore. It could be seen, observed from all over the place. And he, the great king, was largely the enabler of those who sheltered under his branches and who were sustained by his provision.

So, what’s so alarming about this? Well, verse 13 tells us: “I saw in the visions of my head as I lay in bed, and behold, a watcher, a holy one, came down from heaven.” Oh, you see, he called for the enchanters, the magicians, and the astrologers, and they [had] no answers. The one who came from heaven had the answer, but it wasn’t an answer that immediately appealed to him. It’s not unusual, is it? People are prepared to seek help from just about everywhere, until you say, “Well, you know, there is one who has come from heaven, and this is what he says.” Either their response will be humility (“Tell me”) or rebellion (“Don’t be so ridiculous!”).

A holy one came down. And what did the holy one say? Well, he said, “Chop down the tree and lop off its branches.” In other words, he brought a message of judgment and destruction. There’s going to be a stump left at the end of it all. And in the middle of the interpretation, or the judgment, you will notice that it changes from impersonal to personal. So, it is a tree, and then all of a sudden, halfway through verse 15: “Let him be wet with the dew of heaven,” “Let his portion,” “Let his mind …, and let a beast’s mind be given … him; and let seven periods of time pass over [them].” In other words, there’s going to be a dramatic change in the circumstances of this individual. He’s destined for an animal-like existence. He’s going to be watered by the dew, just like the grass, which he’s going to share with the beasts, because he’s going to be eating it like an ox. His rationality is going to be replaced with a bestial kind of perspective.

And the purpose in all of this, verse 17, “by the decree of the watchers, the decision by the word of the holy ones,” is “to the end that the living may know that the Most High rules the kingdom[s] of men,” and he “gives it to whom he will,” and he “sets over it the lowliest of men.” In other words, to bring someone who has forgotten his dependence upon God to see his need of God. That’s what’s happening—that this dream breaks into the silence of this man in this enviable position, from a human perspective, and in the darkness of the night, in the privacy of his own bedroom, he knows—he knows—that things are not as they appear to be. And he has a sneaking suspicion that when this dream is explained to him, it will be just as he has inclined to imagine. And the prospect is quite devastating.

Verses 19–27, Daniel then steps up and provides the interpretation. He’s described as Belteshazzar. That was the name that was given him. I think the king likes to call him by his Belteshazzar name, by his new name. It puts him, as it were, in position. He doesn’t know quite what to do with him. But when you read from verse 19, you realize that now we’ve got two fellas who are really dismayed or alarmed. One is the king, who doesn’t know what’s going on; and the other is Daniel, who does know what’s going on.

And interestingly—I find it quite interesting—the balance of verse 19, the king now has become the counselor of Daniel: “Let not the dream or the interpretation alarm you.” Daniel might have said, “Well, that’s easy for you to say.” In fact, he says, “My lord…” “My lord, may the dream be for those who hate you and its interpretation for your enemies!” I think this is an important point. It struck me as I was preaching in the first service. I missed it entirely in my studies. And it is this: that there is no sense of immediate delight on the part of Daniel to pronounce this judgment on the king. There is nothing that comes from the text that suggests that he is so glad that he’s able to stick it to the king—you know, “I’ve been in this miserable position. Look where you’ve put me. Look what’s happened to me. Look what you tried to do to my friends the other day. You tried to kill them all in a furnace. So listen here, king!” No, he says, “Listen, I’m going to tell you what you asked, but I’m going to tell you this: I wish it applied to somebody else. I wish it wasn’t for you. I wish the message, I wish the mail had got crossed and it was for someone else.”

Now, his compassion does not remove his conviction, nor does his compassion silence his declaration. But his compassion is noticeable and, I think, is a great lesson. Because at the heart of it all—and we get to the heart of it in verse 22: “It is you, O king.” “It is you, O king.” “It’s you who’s grown strong. It’s you who has a greatness that reaches to the heavens. You’re the one with the dominion to the ends of the earth.” And so it is that this holy one has come from heaven. There’s no nondirective counseling on the part of Daniel here. No, he goes straight at it. “It is a decree,” verse 24, “of the Most High God, which has come upon my lord the king. And this is what’s going to happen to you, and it will happen to you for a period of time”—I take it that the “seven” is simply seven periods of time, an indefinite but complete period of time—“until perhaps you will then understand.”

Now, let’s just notice in passing that there’s no cheap, no immediate comfort for Nebuchadnezzar. He is providing him here with a clear statement of what’s going on so that he in turn might have the opportunity to repent. He was commanded to leave the stump of the roots of the tree. Verse 26: “Your kingdom shall be confirmed for you from the time that you know that Heaven rules. Therefore, O king, let my counsel be acceptable to you.”

Now, here comes his appeal. Here is his appeal: “I’m telling you this, and I’m giving you an opportunity for repentance. This is what you need to do: you need to break off your sins by practicing righteousness and your iniquities by showing mercy to the oppressed, that there may perhaps be a lengthening of your prosperity.” So there is the execution of judgment, and there is the very nature of mercy in the midst of it all. “With mercy and with judgment my web of time he wove.”[8] This is the way God works.

Fatherlike he tends and spares us;
Well our feeble frame he knows.
In his hands he gently bears us
[To rescue] us from all our foes.[9]

It’s a wonderful picture.

So, any notion that we have of somehow or another Daniel with a sort of grim and contorted face of vindictiveness towards this miserable pagan king you cannot squeeze from the text, no matter how hard you try. “Here is an opportunity,” he says, “Nebuchadnezzar, for you to repent of your pride while the dream is still a dream and not yet a reality.” I think this is what Paul is talking about in Acts, where he’s before Agrippa, and he’s explaining his preaching, and he says, “I preach that they should repent and turn to God and prove their repentance by their deeds.”[10] “Are you going to bow down before the living God, Nebuchadnezzar? And if so, then show that you’re going to do so. Turn from this, and turn to this.”

One simple sentence, verse 28: “All this came upon King Nebuchadnezzar.” Why? Because he resisted the opportunity. In fact, you’ll notice it says, “At the end of twelve months…” “At the end of twelve months…” God, in his mercy, gave him twelve months before the reality fell upon him. Why? Because he’s “slow to chide,” and he’s “swift to bless.”[11] That’s what we sang about in our opening hymn. It’s the kind of God he is.

Paul, who had every reason to marvel at God’s mercy towards him, when he presses this upon the church in Rome and writes to them, he says, “Do you presume on the riches of [God’s] kindness and forbearance and patience, not knowing that God’s kindness is meant to lead you to repentance?”[12] The reason that you are still alive, the reason that you’re still within earshot of the gospel, the reason that the call of God to you to turn in your rebellious heart and bow down before his majesty, is on account of his kindness. On account of his kindness. “[Or],” he says, “because of your hard and impenitent heart you [store] up wrath for yourself on the day of [God’s] wrath when God’s righteous judgment will be revealed.”[13]

Now, look at what he said: “The king answered and said, ‘Is not this [the] great Babylon, [that] I have built by my mighty power as a royal residence and for the glory of my majesty?’” He’s playing his favorite music. He’s sitting in his favorite chair. He’s presumably fine. It’s a long time since he’s had that dream. And he remembers that Daniel had something to say about it, but it’ll never happen. I’ll never happen. Read 2 Peter, and you’ll find that’s exactly what the scoffers were saying: “In the last days, scoffers will come, and they will say, ‘Where is the promise of his coming? It will never happen. He will never do it.’”[14] Oh yes he will! Because he has pledged himself to complete his word, and that’s what he said.

“Look at me.” And then listen to what he heard: “While the words were still in the king’s mouth, there fell a voice from heaven, ‘O King Nebuchadnezzar, to you it[’s] spoken: The kingdom[’s] [gone], … you[’ll] be driven from among men.’” And out he goes. And “immediately,” verse 33, “the word was fulfilled against [him].” No longer any time left. No longer any time. No more mercy now. It’s all judgment here. And “he was driven from among men,” and he “ate grass like an ox, and his body was wet with the dew of heaven till his hair grew long as an eagles’ feathers, and his nails were like birds’ claws.” What a picture!

Filled with himself, he’s now devoid of sanity. He who was couched in luxury is no longer allowed on the couch. He who refuses to give God glory is robbed of any glory that he himself might know. And the picture is a strange picture, but it is not an entirely unfamiliar picture. And some of you who do psychiatry will be able to confirm what I’m now about to read to you. This is from a psychiatrist in England who is describing the circumstances that are unfolding for us here in Daniel chapter 4:

As far as Nebuchad[n]ezzar’s illness is concerned, the features are of a fairly acute onset of insanity, with the apparent delusional idea that he was an animal. The length of time that he was unwell is not clear, but he also seems to have had a spontaneous remission.

No, he hasn’t. No, he hasn’t. There’s a cause and effect. We’ll come to that in a minute. The psychiatrists can do the psychiatry; he’s not doing the theology. So,

seems to have had a spontaneous remission and returned to sanity and changed his way of life … subsequently. This kind of history is much more typical of depressive illness with relatively acute onset, delusional beliefs of a morbid nature and, in the days before drugs and [of electoral convulsive treatment], most such illnesses had a spontaneous remission within a period of one, two and, occasionally, more years. The person who recovered would recover complete insight, as did Nebuchad[n]ezzar, apparently.[15]

But no, let’s look at the restoration. Let’s look at how it came about. Incidentally, if you’ve read the biography of Howard Hughes, there’s shades of this in Howard Hughes—not to the same extent, but I can’t imagine how long his fingernails were and the horrible, matted nature of his hair, and he who was such a genius has lost his mind entirely. I think King George—one of the King George, the mad one—I think he had a touch of this as well, but it’s none of my business. “Be not deceived.” “Be not deceived; God is not mocked. Whatever a man sows, that he will also reap.”[16] It’s not for me delve into the link between the psychological and the physical and the moral and the spiritual, but it is food for further consideration. God gives, and God takes away. It’s not spontaneous remission; there is a cause and effect. “At the end of the days I, Nebuchadnezzar”—here we go—“lifted my eyes to heaven.” “I lifted my eyes to heaven.” Remember Psalm 121? “I lift up my eyes to the hills. … Where does my help come [from]?”[17]

Happiness is not found by looking inside of yourself and reaching for it but by looking outside of yourself and finding forgiveness and peace and hope in the person and work of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Now, the answer that you and I give to that question really tells everything about our entire existence. Where does your help come from? Somebody last week said to me, “Do you see these things that are on offer in the local surgery around here?” I don’t know where it was. I didn’t go to check. But this is a pamphlet offering to people true happiness—happiness that is apparently our birthright. And the way to happiness is by chanting “Nam-myoho-renge-kyo” and thereby dispelling doubt, challenging my problems courageously, revealing my innate wisdom and compassion. It’s grievous, because I know that people’s lives are so messed up that if there is a way, by chanting something, to discover happiness, to discover peace… Happiness is not found by looking inside of yourself and reaching for it but by looking outside of yourself and finding forgiveness and peace and hope in the person and work of the Lord Jesus Christ. “I … lifted my eyes to heaven,” he says, “and my reason returned to me.”

Oh, you see, that’s the opposite of what my friends say. They say, “You going to get involved in that Christian stuff, that God stuff, that sovereign God stuff? You’ve got to take your brain out in order to do that. That’s insanity!” No. “I … lifted my eyes to heaven, and my reason [was restored].” It’s entirely reasonable. It’s not irrational. It’s supra-rational. And as a result of that, his pride gave way to praise: “And [I] honored him who lives forever.” And then he sings his song: “His dominion everlasting, his kingdom forever; all the inhabitants of the earth are accounted as nothing.” It’s fantastic! And even the fiddlers in the middle of the night, all the counselors and the lords, they all sought him out—verse 36. His kingdom was established, and even “more greatness was added to [it].” And they said, “It’s good to have the old Nebuchadnezzar back again!” And he said, “It’s not the old Nebuchadnezzar! No! No one on earth can stay the hand of the God of heaven. No one has a right to say to him, ‘What have you done?’ or ‘What are you doing?’”

What an encouragement to these early exiles, who think that somehow or another, they have lost the battle—that here they are, torn from everything that is security. And Daniel writes, and he says, “Listen what happened to Nebuchadnezzar at the end of the game: he was singing ‘Praise my soul, the King of heaven! Just come to his feet and worship him.’”

Well, it’s an encouragement for us, isn’t it? Where’s Nebuchadnezzar today? Well, I don’t know, but he sure isn’t here. Where’s Nero? Gone! Where’s Mao Tse-tung? Where’s Pol Pot? Where’s Stalin? Where’s Hitler? Where’s Churchill? Where’s Thatcher? Where’s Reagan? Where will Obama be? You see? This God is the God who deposes and sets up. And it is this God to whom we come this morning.

There’s a lady called Kittie Suffield, I think her name was. She was born in 1880. She was American. She wrote a few songs, maybe four. The only one that I know, partly, has the refrain—it goes like this: “God is still on the throne, and he will remember his own; tho’ trials may press us,” as they do, “and burdens distress us,” as they do, “he never will leave us alone.”

God is still on the throne,
[And he will remember] his own;
[And] his promise is true, he will not forget you,
[For] God is still on the throne.[18]

Now let me end where I began. Nothing—nothing—like the notion of the sovereignty of God is able to evoke in the mind of man either humility or rebellion. What’s your reaction? Will you bow down before God and thank him for his kindness, expressed in the Lord Jesus? Or will you just bolster your self-esteem, walk back out the door, and try it again on your own? Are you really planning on going back to the same enchanters, the same magicians, who have had no answer for you to this point in your life? Can I commend you to the one who has come from heaven in order that he might save you and make you new and grant you the peace and the contentment that we understand we long for?

Okay. Next time, chapter 5.

Father, thank you that as we’ve been singing, that your Word is the source of our faith and our confidence. And one day, when heaven and earth as we know it does pass away, your Word will not.[19] We thank you that we bow before your majesty; that ultimately, our citizenship is in heaven, from where we await a Savior—the one who has triumphed over death, the one who has ascended, the one who will return in power and in great glory. And even though people say it will never happen, we rest confident that you will never go back on the promises or the warnings of your Word. So come and meet with us, Lord. Come and grant to us humility and repentance and faith. Save us from our rebellious hearts, from our proud assertions. And grant that we might rest in the only rest that is possible for us: that which is found in Christ alone. For we pray in his name. Amen.

[1] Psalm 92:1 (ESV).

[2] See John 1:3.

[3] Ephesians 1:11 (ESV).

[4] Sinclair B. Ferguson, Daniel, The Preacher’s Commentary 21 (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2002), 88.

[5] William Shakespeare, Hamlet, 3.1.

[6] Luke 12:19–20 (paraphrased).

[7] See Daniel 2:27–28.

[8] Anne R. Cousin, “The Sands of Time Are Sinking” (1857).

[9] Henry F. Lyte, “Praise, My Soul, the King of Heaven” (1834).

[10] Acts 26:20 (paraphrased).

[11] Lyte, “Praise, My Soul.”

[12] Romans 2:4 (ESV).

[13] Romans 2:5 (ESV).

[14] 2 Peter 3:3–4 (paraphrased).

[15] M. G. Barker, quoted in Joyce G. Baldwin, Daniel: An Introduction and Commentary, The Tyndale Old Testament Commentaries (Leicester, England: Inter-Varsity, 1978), 109.

[16] Galatians 6:7 (paraphrased).

[17] Psalm 121:1 (ESV).

[18] Kittie Suffield, “God Is Still on the Throne” (1929).

[19] See Matthew 24:35.