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| Flight of the Prisoners by Tissot |
Here’s a story. Once again as with the frog fable, the connection to this Japanese blog might appear tenuous, but if you’re a careful reader you’ll find it glaring out at you in the subtext.
This started out as a more local color commentary touching on issues like cross-cultural insights, syncretism, the significance of names, and whether Ezekiel’s “Daniel” refers to the Ugaritic character or to our Daniel, etc., but it seemed better to just have the camera zoom in and let it record whatever it saw.
Come to think of it, I did a piece like this before for a history class, talking about the Visigoths (or Thervingi, to be on the safe side) crossing over the Danube in A.D. 376, fleeing to Rome to escape the Huns. So much fun.
Although, yeah, I’m probably off on some of the historical details. It’s not like I get paid to research all this stuff as extensively as I’d like before offering it as a short story/Bible study/blog post. I couldn’t quite get the pulpy, adventure men’s magazine kind of story I aimed for with a Bible story (like “Daniel and the Savage Moons of Mars” or something), but for what it’s worth, enjoy…
Daniel and the Dreaming King of Babylon
The holy city of Zion, many-towered in its splendor, perfect in beauty, has been under siege by the dreadful host of Babylon. King Jehoiakim of Judah had been caught off guard and was surrounded on all sides, no allies to come to his aid. It was clear to those in the city that the end was at hand. To a few, it was also apparent that the words of the prophets were being fulfilled; the hand of the Lord was against them.
No one would accuse Jehoiakim, son of Josiah, of being an especially devout or prescient king, and, indeed, casting the prophet Jeremiah’s oracle into the fire and then searching for the holy man’s life did nothing to hide his corruption. The false prophets seething around the king had no lack of auspicious dreams and ominous words to sooth his mind and make the people forget the name of God for Baal. So it was that when it looked like the might of Egypt was the better bet, despite that fact that it was Pharaoh that slew his father, Jehoiakim had decided to stop paying tribute to Nebuchadnezzar. It would not be the last time he would make such a miscalculation.
The world watched as the three superpowers of Assyria, Egypt, and Babylon marched inexorably toward history. At last they met at the banks of the Euphrates. Arrows filled the sky as the sound of horse and chariot thundered over the earth. By the battle’s end, the Assyrian Empire was no more, Egypt was so soundly thrashed that it slunk away nevermore to be a major player. The Euphrates flowed on as it had since the time of Noah.
And just like that, the Babylonian army turned its head to finish off at the tributary kingdoms of the Levant. The king had only been on the throne of Judah for four years by the reckoning of the Hebrew calendar when the vast array arrived at the gates.*
Nebuchadnezzar’s herald presented the demands: captives from the royal house of Judah along with the sacred vessels from the temple, spoils of war, tribute of obeisance to the gods of Babylon. Daniel received the news as it spilled down the streets, and soon found friends from the royal household who confirmed the rumors. More than anything, he wished to see Jeremiah one last time, but he was not to be found at his house and Daniel didn’t have time to inquire for him. He met the priests he knew at the sanctuary and offered them a word of comfort. Then he had to return home to make preparations.
Finally, word came that Jehoiakim assented to the demands. Things happened quickly then as the men of Judah opened the gates and in rushed the advance guard, binding and organizing the people into companies in the rough fashion of soldiers. Daniel tried to keep track of where his friends and family were being taken as best he could; everywhere there was noise and confusion though, driven through with the barking of orders, as people were numbly led this way and that. Soon he found himself separated into a grouping of strangers as they were numbered and waited for rations to be assigned them. The men had their heads shaved while the women and children were taken elsewhere.
But all of that seemed a lifetime ago. Now he walks in a long caravan of captives stretching off into the dusky horizon. A thousand miles of desolation. His head still pounded something awful from the gash he got from a soldier for trying to help along one of the elders who had tripped and stumbled. Part of him thought of how he might escape if there was a suitable distraction, but as the miles passed there was no opportunity, and what’s more, he was ashamed to admit, he had lost any real will to try for it. Behind them, the smoke from the ruins of the city gates rose in ashen plumes. It was as if someone had wrenched his heart from his chest.
Of his own parents he did not know their fate. Before his exile, they had raised him to revere Yahweh, and to learn His ways and His covenant with His people. They had specially named him with such an aim in mind, דָּנִיֵּאל – “God is my Judge.” In his mind, he could hear his father’s deep, baritone voice intone the Scripture passage for the day at the breakfast table.
Not a day went by that he didn’t think of their legacy and the stay of men like Joseph and Moses in Egypt, of Elijah and Samuel. Men of grit and strong sinew. Joseph had been renamed Zaphenath-Paneah, but had kept true and steadfast to the Lord and saw the word flourish during his time. Indeed, Abraham’s ancestors had been called out of this very land, Ur Kaśdim. If Jonah’s preaching could humble the king of Nineveh along with the inhabitants of city, and young King Josiah could cleanse the land of Solomon’s blood-stained idols…
He looked over the multitudes of his distraught countrymen and resolved in his heart that, come what may, in the darkest of dungeons he would not to turn his back on Yahweh or let himself become entranced by offers of release and comfort, if only he would bow to this grinning statue or press his lips to that votive carving.
When they were yet miles away, he could see the brightly-gleaming citadels of Shinar, among them the ancient temple of Etemenanki and the prominent temple of Marduk in Esagila, touching the sky. If those in Jerusalem had seen this, Daniel thought, they never would have entertained the idea of opposing this king.
Once in the great eight-walled city of Babylon, he meekly expected the worst, to be ignominiously tortured or shackled as a household servant for the rest of his days, a laughingstock and object of derision. Several weeks of travel by foot, subsiding on meager rations seasoned with prayer, left him fairly weak to whatever awaited him.
Quite to his surprise, however, he and the other sons of the nobility, like his friends Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah, found themselves given the most luxurious of quarters and a place at the king’s tables. Daniel’s new home had a restful garden with plashing fountains and colorful flowers he had never seen before. From his balcony he could gaze upon the pennants of jeweled palaces. He smiled to himself. It was not to be the crude tools of torture, but a silky offer of sweet enticements.
Babylon was alive with foreign merchants selling their exotic wares in the spacious plazas, ringed with columns. He had not known there were so many nations and tongues to be found in the inhabited world. To be honest, he often felt like a helpless child, unable to read the street signs or quite catch what the vendors were after, gesticulating in their curlicue accents.
These people are cultured and well-groomed, he thought, but at the same time so crude and uncouth. He passed altars and shrines on every corner dedicated to lurid abominations of wood and stone. A vile and detestable sensuality was the sop that flowed at the edges of most commercial activity. Around the temple precincts, various establishments were usually connected to a backroom serviceable for anyone with enough coin. By evening or midday one heard the sounds of reveling, as if the people had thrown off all restraint to plunge in headfirst, swimming in iniquity, lapping it up. He felt nauseous at the thought. It was as if --- well, to be honest, it was not so very different from some parts of Jerusalem after sundown.
In turn, many of his brethren shunned the marketplaces altogether and stuck to their own neighborhoods. Besides, what butcher would adhere to Levitical purity in the preparation of the food? What shopkeeper might one find that didn’t sell meat and wine that had been portioned and dedicated to false gods?
Walking the streets around the temple precincts, especially during festivals near the massive ziggurat-mountains, the air filled with the pounding of drums, it was not long before his initial shock gave way to a deep ache in his heart. For this people had become a burden to him, and deep in his kidneys he felt a compassion for their ignorance and pitiful estate apart from the living God.
The local communal gathering of Jewish men met in Shimei’s house. It was headed by a competent enough fellow, even if his strain of teaching was provincial by training and his forceful personality was of a sensitive nature, not unlike the way a bully feels wounded even by light words. To be sure though, there were also to be found some teachers and scribes who were decent and godly men to sit under. In any case, Daniel was not allowed out of class for the Sabbath so he rarely got to gather in prayer with the congregation there.
He did not make friends easily at the royal preparatory school. The other boys seemed to keep their distance.
At mealtime a classmate would taunt, “You don’t still pray to your lousy, defeated god, do you? I saw him this morning kissing the feet of Marduk the Great!”
It was then that he realized how the reputation of his people preceded him. In his blood, he burned to give a defense… he could not speak their tongue well enough, but his fists had a ready answer.
When he and Azariah walked by on their way home, the other boys whispered and snickered amongst themselves like the crackling of thorns under a pot. Usually the two simply ignored them, but today the tallest of them was feeling especially assured of his cleverness and he only got louder. “Hey! I’m talking to you, Hebrew! Why don’t you get on your knees and kiss my feet!” He started to come closer.
Next to him, Azariah had an impassive look and kept walking. Daniel was prepared to take a blow for Yahweh. It was a common enough thing for his people living over on the Chebar to get a black eye or broken bone on the way home. But sometimes he knew Yahweh’s response came in the form of rendering to some bull-headed Babylonian kid a fat lip and a strike to the knee. Still, he was glad Azariah was beside him, athletic in build and with his eyes set straight ahead, never wavering his pace.
The gang of toughs kept up their curses but they didn’t seem interested enough to keep following them at the moment. Later, it might be a different outcome should one of the Hebrews be caught alone.
In class he was surprised and at first a little shaken to find some of his teachers openly despised him for what they regarded as his arrogant, narrow-minded, backwater religion. But he did not mind their scornful laughter. He asked God to have mercy on them. If he had to bide his time he would. One day he would gain a competency in their language to provide a proper response and explanation of the things of God.
His chief instructor was Ashpenaz, the royal advisor and a man of broad learning. He had the Hebrew youth given new cultic names in honor of the Babylonian gods. The fact that Daniel was now addressed by a name invoking a loathsome and debauched god was particularly irksome. It was, of course, a dastardly attempt to subvert and sever his identity as a son of Israel, and each time it burned his ears, he had to keep from bristling. At times he daydreamed of lashing back at a classmate, “Say it again! Go on, say Belteshazzar just one more time!”
His studies were a welcome distraction. The Akkadian dialect along with literary Sumerian were supple and able to carry ideas and feelings that were not to be found in his own tongue. The poetry could be grand and sweeping. Other times, the assigned texts were watery superstitions passing as wisdom, indeed much of it was the sort of black wisdom that comes from the earth and the air. He longed to linger over the Scriptures of Moses and David and relish in the ways of God’s working with man… but deadlines were deadlines and by the following Friday he had to translate the last three sections of the epic of
The Man Who Saw the Abyss, King Gilgamesh of Uruk.
In-between his readings, nothing was more was pleasant and refreshing than to take a walk in his garden. He had planted a couple fruit-bearing shrubs and a cinnabar tree near the far corner. A little shade in that spot, once they had grown up, would be just the thing. At night the starry sky shined in with a luminous language, a name for each one. He laid on his back for hours as the mazzaroth wheeled above, shining in the radiance of glory, the various scenes passing right to left. Parsing the celestial works of the Lord was one of his favorite acts of worship. What endless stores of knowledge the Almighty had concealed up there among the spheres!
In time, as he gained fluency in the languages, he would visit with the leading Chaldean scholars and other priests in their quarters, that is, those that would speak with him. There was a certain aura surrounding them, for they hardly ventured out in the light of day, and a ghoulish pallor to the skin. Deep in the temple complexes, lost somewhere in the labyrinth of chambers, they performed their voorish rites. They were the keepers of the ancient mysteries and the high priest took no small pleasure during the spring equinox ceremony, when the consummation of Marduk and Sarpanit was celebrated, of reminding the king of his place below the gods.
It was rumored they were wealthier than the king as well due to considerable silver they amassed by the temples selling all manner of charms, talismans, amulets, fortune-stones, wish-dolls, lucky horoscopes, protective figurines, fertility wands, moon rings, memorial tokens, prayer beads, exorcisms, and funerary services.
Once in the dark recesses of the temple of the moon, he could hear echoes from the corridor walls. Sounds of the chanting of unspeakable rites. He was suddenly keen to find the way out when he came across Mukthar of the Aklos. His greeting was not returned, but Daniel didn’t mind so much, bowing past him to keep looking for the exit.
Since that time, he was more than happy to confine his place of study to the library, which was actually rather resplendent. In it he could find respite from the company of vulgar men and avoid the goings of the seers.
The annals of the kings were there for his perusal. They had a complete set of the Scriptures of Moses, which he set about to copy and translate. There were tablets preserved from Nizu and Nippur and Ebla, fragments of stone records from the sunken cities of Gozer and Nebthu, the faintest memories of Sarkomand and Celephaïs, the last remnants of the age when Nephilim ruled over the sons of men from mountain strongholds…
In requesting a certain treatment on the life of Hammurabi, he was told it was held within the Ashurbanipal collection, which required special permission to access. Upstairs a long corridor led to a series of chambers. He took the door so designated and approached the desk where a scribe was buried in a text. The wizened Egyptian looked up slowly to meet him. His face bore a ritual tattoo and the bronze armlets and earrings spoke of his noble status. On his desk lay a copy of
The Journeys of Melchizedek.
“Ah, what you ask is a hard thing,” he answered. “That is the only copy is existence. We do not let just anyone run their profane eyes over it.”
“Is there some task you wish me to do? Peradventure, to fetch the horn of a she-auroch from the corrals of the Sun?”
“We only require one thing,” he answered. “One thing to be given to us freely.”
“Yes…?”
“
Ka nama kaa lajerama.” The Egyptian’s eyes flickered coldly. “Your immortal soul.”
Daniel seemed in thought.
“Nah, no – I’m only kidding with you… Yeah, it’s on the shelve at the end. I’ll come unlock it for you. You have your library card?”
Daniel handed it to him. “Much obliged. I’m Daniel, by the way.”
“You may call me Cathoris.” The librarian read the name on the card and looked up quizzically. “But if Ashpenaz were here, I think I shall have to call you Belteshazzar.”
Daniel shrugged. “You may call the sky green if you wish.”
“Yes, there is truth there. You seem older than your years would have tell. I see you studying here most days.”
“It’s a marvelous collection here.”
“To be honest, there is something I’ve been wondering about the Judahites and I would like to ask of you.”
“You sound in earnest.”
“When Yahweh waged war against my people a thousand years ago, defiling the sacred Nile with blood, mocking our gods, drowning our armies in the sea, piercing Rahab through… the whole world was filled with terror at the tales of the pillar of smoke and fire. As a boy I read of this in the chronicles and chills ran up my spine. Neither am I ignorant of when he sent death among the camp of King Sennacherib, wiping out the army of Assyria that was poised to take Jerusalem.”
“But now your land was been pillaged by the Assyrians and now the Babylonians – as they did to my people as well. I hope you understand that I ask this respectfully. Your God is known as the Holy One of Israel… but Israel was destroyed and dispersed a hundred years ago. And now Judah has been scattered as the wind. What has happened that your once powerful God did not deliver you from all these sorrows? You do not seem to be such an evil man. Is there some hidden conspiracy in the affairs of your people that merited your exile? Does God judge a whole people for the sin of one man?”
Daniel nodded slowly. “Our people have been looking up at the sky for a long time now, wondering where He went. And how we might even offer prayers to Him, separated as we are from the altar of atonement and the mercy seat. But it was not He who abandoned us. We have rejected the Lord God since our beginning.”
“It is He that has laid these judgments on our head. You have read in Moses where He warned of such times that His children would turn away from him. We have been sent many prophets to tell us that He would use foreign kings to discipline His children. It is because of our grievous sins that He has brought all of this upon us and torn us as a lion tears its prey. And then we squirm and kick and plead – and He sees all of our empty words and empty promises. He is not to be mocked. And yet for all of that He has not forsaken His covenant with Abraham. He spoke all of this to the prophets and also that He will come and restore Zion one day.”
“You sound very sure of that.”
“The Lord is not like a man to change His mind or forget a matter. He will bring about what He says as He always has. Do you not know something of His faithfulness by the records? Or have you not some understanding of His dealings with the sons of men?”
Cathoris confessed, “I have seen things in my time that I cannot explain. I know that there are dark creatures in the desert that cry like jackals. Under the sun there is more to the work of a man’s hands than mindless delirium. In the end, king and commoner share the same grave and neither will be remembered by the living. I think there must be a day of reckoning. Beyond that, I honestly do not know. Who has been past the gates of death to tell us?”
“Allow me to ask a question of you, noble Cathoris. This is a time of testing for all of us. If God judges nations, how much more does He look at individuals? Does your heart weigh more than a feather of Ma’at? And if so, do you not fear the awful judgment of Anubis and the sharp teeth of Ammut? How will you render an account of yourself on that day?”
At first Cathoris was at a loss. His gaze fell to the ground. “There is nothing I could say. My shame is before me. I am eaten up by it all the day. My spirit is weighed down at the thought of it.”
“The King of Glory holds the breath of all living beings in his hand. He weighs the hearts of men for He is the righteous judge of the living and the dead. If a man were to wash his hands and turn away from the evil in his heart, and seek the Lord for forgiveness and cleansing, such a man will be blessed. The Lord will clothe him with righteousness. You see, if your heart is as heavy and chained to sin as you know it to be, what you need is a new one. The Lord does not only destroy. I have seen Him deliver those who put their trust in Him and raise them to new life.”
“But I am so…” he looked grief-stricken and went pale at the words. “Ah, what shall I say? Tell me, what sacrifice from my hands could possibly be acceptable in His sight to purge me of my uncleanness?”
“Surely, we know blood of goats and sheep cannot remove the sins of a man. God Himself will provide that sacrifice which will redeem you from your debt against Him.”
“And He will vouchsafe me from the threats of Ammut or whatever rabisu lurks to swallow me up for eternity?”
“He will rescue you from His divine wrath and show you mercy and lovingkindness. He did so for me.”
As Daniel spoke, Cathoris had an image of God looking at scenes from his life – secret things he had hidden away in his mind and tried to forget. He watched in horror at God’s expression as shook His head in disappointment. He got up and walked away disgusted and Cathoris tried to stop Him, exclaiming, “No, no, wait! You don’t understand! I can explain. Please, it’s not like that!”
Cathoris was silent a long while. The more he thought on it, the more he knew there was no hope of comfort that could come from the implacable snout of Anubis. “What injury I have done to Yahweh, I am sorry…” He raised his hands with his palms out and declared, “Daniel, you have become my witness that this day from where the sun stands in the sky, I pledge myself to Yahweh. Lord God of Israel, I need your mercy and forgiveness, lest I perish.”
In that moment, they looked at each other in amazement. Something had happened, that much was clear. Cathoris had no words for the experience or emotion or whatever it was, but inside he was a different person now than he was five minutes before. A key had fit the lock, and sprung open a door. He opened his mouth and began to pour forth a florid hymn in his Egyptian to the One who had come down and drawn near.
There were plenty of ways one could get in serious trouble at school, but his first serious challenge came early on, quite sooner than he expected - on the very first day of school actually. Assembled with the entire student body in the grand hall, Daniel was served a full and rich plate of smoked beef and lentil soup with a full-bodied goblet of wine. It was a sumptuous feast.
But he hadn’t picked up his utensils. He looked over and then caught the glance of some of his fellow captives who sat before their plates with the same distressed expression. They knew it all depended on this. A most ingenious trap on behalf of their overseers to test if they would go so far as to directly defy the king in order to obey their God.
The other classmates watched the Hebrews with a perverse eagerness to see them humiliated and partake of the feast honoring their false gods.
For his part, Daniel prayed silently for wisdom in his words and rose to speak with the royal advisor sitting with the other faculty at the dais.
He bowed to Ashenpaz and in his best Aramaic asked, “Chief advisor, would my lord honor your servant with one request…”
Ashpenaz narrowed his eyes, considering what the boy was up to. He pursed his lips and then, amazingly, suggested, “In the hallway then.”
Throughout Daniel’s courteous little speech his face bore no expression. At first Ashpenaz was hesitant to put his own life on the line by denying the king’s command just to accommodate these Hebrews and the peculiarities of their dietary laws. He fingered the amulet around his neck. “If I were to grant such a request, would it not mean inviting the king’s wrath to come down on my own head? Why should he see you looking worse than your classmates?”
“I would never wish that, my lord. I merely request a consideration that the food my people have lived on has been sufficient for my strength thus far.”
Somehow despite himself he felt tender compassion for Daniel and gave conditional assent, indicating he should ask the steward who was directly over them. Daniel put forth his request to the sharp-faced official in the form of a bet.
The steward’s interest was piqued. What sort of bet?
A ten-day test, Daniel proposed, to see if their God would not increase their strength on a diet of food kept separate from the Babylonian idols. If they appeared weaker, Daniel would take the blame and take whatever consequences the steward deemed fit.
The burly overseer was speechless for a moment. “But what do you mean here? Is the food dedicated to the great Bel-Marduk not good enough for you?” he snapped.
“It is not a question of taste or quality, which must be beyond compare. But it is forbidden by the law of the Most High to give honor to any images, statue, or likeness of a created being. I like a good wine with my steak as much as the next man, but I can’t pretend to share a meal with Marduk or give him my worship.”
The steward rapped his fingers rhythmically on the table as he thought. Despite himself, he found Daniel’s words compelling and wished that there might be a solution to be found. “No one has ever asked such a thing...”
In truth, he wondered if such a scheme might work and he could take the portions to turn a profit on the side. “Look, why don’t you simply eat and drink for the sake of the king’s command and in your heart pray to your god and tell him they you don’t really worship other gods?”
“But we know that no man could ever serve two masters,” Daniel demurred. “I could only disobey the Most High at my own peril.”
“Young man, you are either very brave or very foolish…”
“Courage is a fine thing, sir, but even courage is no substitute for conviction.”
The steward had no few gray hairs on his head. It would be a waste for these young men to give up their lives for so trivial a matter, but he saw that there was nothing he could do to break his conviction. Whether he saw some shadow of wisdom in this proposal or savored the idea of lining his pockets with some extra coin, well, both came to the same end.
“All right. No gabbing this around to anyone else,” he held up a finger. “Ten days. May it be on your head.”
At the end of ten days time, Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah came to bear inspection. From head to toe, their appearance was healthier than their peers.
“Well, well.” Ashpenaz’ face betrayed no expression, but merely remarked, “You would seem fair enough.”
The steward, who stood next to him, laughed aloud, “It would seem your water is better than our wine. Soon we will have to come to him, this little Solomon, for our learning.”
So it was that Daniel’s reputation began to grow among the students and teachers until at the end of the three years it came time for his civil service candidacy exams.
The final examination was notoriously brutal. The faculty were spread about encircling the room in fine robes grazing the floor. Behind them, the Chaldeans and court astrologers stood in silence. Opposite the assembly, the king strode in, his powerful frame overshadowing the young acolytes.
He looked them over with a piercing glare, his imperious eyebrows furrowed. Seated on his divan, he began to call them up in turn. The questions were sharp and incisive in his maieutic style – how to adapt various military stratagems upon suddenly being outflanked, what course to take in the case of deciding between two lying parties, which has the greater merit between grain and cattle, how to discern the omen of various birds in flight, how to proof the square of a hypotenuse of a triangle, and so on with the sciences and history and poetry.
To everyone who attended the interview, the understanding and aptitude of the Hebrew exiles was astounding. The king folded his massive arms and declared them to be ten times more learned than the wise men of the realm. The counselors for their part regarded the youths with a nod of respect and smiled weakly.
As for the Hebrews, there was a begrudging respect from their classmates. Together they had struggled and persevered - old rivalries were forgotten as they clapped each other on the back.
He raised a glass toward them in salute. “Any man living would be proud to call one of you his son. Those who know me know that I am little tolerance for weak-minded fools and even less for those who sugar their words before Nebuchadnezzar, King of Kings. Behold, I built this fortress-city as a wonder of the world. From Heliopolis to Bensaylum, a stronghold that will stand through the ages. Do you not tremble at the thought of it? Do your eyes not get weak at the glory of the sun? You stand to enter the ranks of a dominion that will outlast the stars in the sky. Such is my might. Such is your honor.”
“Hail, King Nebuchadnezzar!” the magistrates shouted.
A couple of years had passed since Nebuchadnezzar’s father, Nabopolassar, Conqueror of Nineveh, went to the tombs of the kings. His unexpected death forced his son to make haste to end his latter campaign against Jerusalem and return home to lay claim to the throne and deal care of any rivals.
Reigning as sole sovereign, he enjoyed a span of peace along the borders, from the Zagros Mountains to the far Taurus, spending most of his days overseeing public works, aqueducts, and an ever-increasing number of temples, seeing that palace was ever more lavishly adorned with arches and palisades, filled with exotic birds and pleasure gardens.
But now the king was in a dark mood. Night after night he had been dreaming dreams that shook him with such vividness that he tried to stay awake rather than have to face them again. The images were seared so in his brain and at daybreak instead of fading the dream infested his thoughts. He sent his wife away, or rather she went to sleep in another chamber rather than try in vain to quell his distress and endure his violent fits. One could possibly coax an eagle to land on one’s arm, but there would be plenty of eye gouging before it was over.
Fretfully he paced the cold marble terraces and called for the flute and lyre while the braziers burned throughout the night. Nothing among his hundred treasure rooms nor any harem girls from faraway lands with sun-kissed hair could engage his interest. The daughters of Ištar performed their mantic invocations, convulsing in the throes of possession, but none of this was of any avail.
The royal physician with all of his potions was of no use. After his summary incarceration, the king called in all the physicians, and metaphysicians, and apothecaries of the land with all their potions and prattling incantations. Spun webs were hung over the windows. They tried opening the chronicles and telling him stories of the heroes of old while he had warm milk and cookies. They put on scary masks and beat drums and made loud noises to scare away the evil spirits. They drew their knives and with crimson-stained hands went over the entrails of goats and looked for answers in the swirling waters and dusty volumes of forgotten languages, searching the Iškar Zaqīqu cover to cover. But none of this was of any avail.
Around the palace, the murmur of the court was growing increasingly concerned about the rumors of his mental disturbance. His eyes were bloodshot and shriveled with the successive nights of sleeplessness.
At last, his voice thundered down the halls calling in the seers and sorcerers, the magicians and Magi of the mysterious order of Chaldean priests – from the cult of moon-worshippers. In short, those who traced the ways of the stars and all manner of rocks and plants and beasts, well-versed in the arts of the Egyptians, learned in the formulas for changing the properties of one thing into another, the greater to the lesser and the lesser to the greater. The king was of Chaldee descent as well, but had no love for them; they repudiated the temple of Marduk.
“Bring them to me,” he ordered. “Call them down from their lofty towers, summon them at the Temple of Tash, search out the houses of the dead and wake them up!”
When they had arrayed themselves before him in order of their splendid fineries and caps and ponderous beards, he addressed them. His voice was unnaturally soft and gentle. “I had a dream, and my spirit is troubled to know the dream...”
“O king, live forever!” they proclaimed. “Tell your servants the dream, and we will show the interpretation.”
His lips curled back. “I have spoken. If you do not make known to me the dream and its interpretation, you shall be hacked limb from limb, and your houses despoiled and laid in ruins. But if you consult your constellations and show me the dream and its interpretation – I swear by my throne and my kingdom, such gifts and great honor will be yours. Now, now, don’t be shy.”
There was an awkward cough somewhere and they replied unto him, “Let the king tell his servants the dream, and we will show its interpretation.”
“Ha!” the king answered, jumping excitedly from his throne.
“Ha!” he said again.
“Was it the purpose of your magics to be protecting me or to curse me? Am I a serpent that you would try to blow smoke and play charms on me? Do you doubt the king’s word or think to gain some time for your tricks? Nebuchadnezzar has spoken – very well! If you do not make the dream known to me, there is but one sentence. Tell me the dream, and I shall know that you can show me its interpretation.”
At this, there was the susurrus of a frantic discourse, their faces flushed in desperate confusion. Eventually, the huddle broke up and they bowed so low to the ground so that their noses were smushed against the floor.
One of them pleaded, “O wise and sagacious lord, surely there is not a man on earth who can meet the king’s demand, for no great and powerful king has asked such a thing of any magician or enchanter or Chaldean. The thing that the king asks is altogether too wonderful for those below him, and no one can show it to the king except the gods above, whose dwelling is not with flesh.”
The king erupted in fury and curses, fierce as a gallu. His sword left its sheath in a wide, aimless arc and his subjects stumbled over each other in a wild scramble to get out of the reach of the singing blade.
His roar shook the palace. “Insolent fools! Raise the scaffolds! Hunt them down every last one!”
Daniel was in his upper room overlooking the city. His had just finished his midday prayers and wiped the tears from his eyes when he saw Nebu-zar-adan, the infamous captain of the king’s guard, arrive in the street below with a contingent of soldiers.
Nebu-zar-adan was better known as Arioch by the Jews, however, for his rapacious delight in playing the lion with them, teasing his victims before he pounces. Also, his son was one of Daniel’s old classmates.
“Captain Arioch,” Daniel called down. “Nice of you to visit. Just a moment and I’ll be right down.”
He received them in the courtyard and his servant offered the captain a cool drink. “What can I do for you?”
“Hey Daniel… nice day, isn’t it?” he remarked off to the clouds or trees somewhere. “To get to it, the king just issued a degree that all the counselors and advisors and wise men are to be rounded up for execution.” He sipped his glass. “Would you mind coming with us?”
The soldier next to him had a rope for his hands to be bound.
“Oh, I see. I hadn’t heard. That’s a lot of heads. Sounds like you’ve got your work cut out for you, captain.”
Arioch scratched at his beard. “I don’t mind so much. Good for job security.”
“May I ask why the degree was so urgent?”
As he explained the matter, Daniel nodded. “He does not seem to be himself. Captain, I wonder… do you think I might have a word with our king? There is to be an answer to learning the mystery about this unnatural dream that troubles him so. Some plot lays about this.”
Arioch looked at his quizzically. He had heard about this unusual young man from Ashpenaz and the other palace officials and, of course, his son. “It’s your head,” he grunted. “We’ll be back in the morning.”
So Daniel walked to the palace, listening for the Lord’s leading. This was a curious case. He knew oneiromancy would be of no help in the matter. Only by divine revelation would the mystery be made known.
The guards opened to him and he went in to the antechamber. It was not long before the majordomo appeared and he was summoned to see the king.
When the doors opened, he was somewhat startled to see the change that had gripped the warrior-king since last he saw him. On either side of the throne were two immense twenty-ton statutes of lions, sculpted from the gold of Ophir. The king sat between them propping his head up with his palm on his cheek. Though he was hardly ten years older than Daniel, his features were worn haggard and weary, what he could see amid the shagginess of his unkempt beard.
At last, the king lifted his hand, in a dismissive notion. “One of the exiles of Judah, I believe… yes, Belteshazzar, isn’t it? So you have come to beg for a reprieve? Or are you the barbarian Enkidu come to interpret the king’s dream?”
“Gracious of you to remember, my lord. If it pleases the king, you may call me Daniel. May I say, I’m sorry that your sleep has been troubled by this dream of yours. If you would give me and my friends until morning, we will ask our God who governs the night for the dream and its interpretation that you might have peace in your spirit and come to know what it is that He is wanting to speak to you, and that the lives of the astrologers and Chaldeans may be spared.” At the back of his mind he reflected on the irony that were this Israel and he of the spirit of Elijah all these false prophets would be dead at his feet.
Nebuchadnezzar suppressed a smirk. “Does your god whisper so in your ear? I had thought him conquered. Are not his cups and dishes adorning the temple of Bel-Marduk?”
“Our God is the Lord of Heaven and Earth. He does as He pleases. He is far from the wicked, but indeed He listens to the prayer of the righteous man and, yes, He reveals mysteries to men who keep His word.”
The king looked askance at the kid at first, but as he studied him he saw nothing of guile or fear in his face, nothing of the reclusive pretensions that shrouded the other wise men. “Well. We will see, won’t we? This wager amuses me. You have your appointment. Conduct your ceremony and then come back and report. If you will be needing any scrying stones or animals for sacrifice or something of that nature, let Ashpenaz know.”
“Thank you very kindly, sire, but those will not be necessary. I look forward to speaking with you again soon.”
When Daniel had left, Nebuchadnezzar signaled to his officials. “Send some men and watch that they do not try to escape.”
Even as the words left his mouth though he had no doubt that Daniel would be true to his promise. He sunk his chin on his hand and waved for the next meeting.
When Daniel returned home and told his friends how it went with the king, they took the whole thing in stride. It hardly seemed according to the Lord’s providence that He would honor them so richly at their graduation ceremony only to have them hacked to pieces or else hang from the gallows in so short a time.
Azariah told them he had gotten word out to Hananel and the houses of their people all along the Chebar River would be lit up tonight as they were gathering in prayer.
Mishael ran his hands through his hair and replied, “So what are we waiting for? Let’s go to the heavenly mercy seat and seek His face.”
They got on their knees and turned their hearts to Lord of Glory, Keeper of His covenant with Abraham, that He would be pleased to use them as vessels of His mercy. With groanings and in quietude the hours passed until it was very late indeed and Daniel suggested for now they take to their beds and wait for the Lord’s answer.
That night in his sleep Daniel dreamed and his dream was a revelation. He awoke in amazement and poured out thanksgiving upon thanksgiving to the Lord.
“Blessed be the name of God forever and ever,
to whom belong wisdom and might.
He changes times and seasons;
he removes kings and sets up kings;
he gives wisdom to the wise
and knowledge to those who have understanding;
he reveals deep and hidden things;
he knows what is in the darkness,
and the light dwells with him.
To you, O God of my fathers,
I give thanks and praise,
for you have given me wisdom and might,
and have now made known to me what we asked of you,
for you have made known to us the king's matter.”
He woke his friends to share the news with them and they got word out to the others. Daniel wrapped his heavy tunic about him and set out in the darkness. The moon was barely a sliver in the sky and the dawn was not yet a thought on the face of the sky. In the stillness of the streets, Daniel threaded his way for Arioch’s house, a clutch of soldiers shadowing his steps as he went, and somewhere overhead an angelic watcher following.
Captain Arioch opened his door and blinked in surprise.
“Good morning to you, Captain Arioch.”
It was his habit to rise early, but not in the sunny manner of the boy before him. “Ah, good morning, Daniel. Would you care for a cup of tea?”
“Thanks, maybe later. I’ve come to ask that you stay your hand from executing anyone this morning. I have the king’s answer.”
“You seem fairly confident of yourself…”
Daniel gave a knowing smile and gestured the way. “Shall we go?”
Arioch shook his head and snorted. “It’s your head, boy.”
The majordomo announced, “Your Majesty, Captain Arioch send word that he has found a man of the captives of Judah that will make known unto the king the interpretation.”
The king set down his pen and stared back at him with listless eyes. “Oh. Already? I guess I will have to finish my book at another time.”
Downstairs the servants were bustling about with fetching water and opening shutters and everything else before the start of the day. The honey-golden light of dawn stepped down the lofty tower and along the terraces. In the king’s chamber at the end of the great hall, Nebuchadnezzar in his idiosyncratic way had the wise men assembled to hear Daniel’s presentation. Breathless with trepidation, they looked on as the young scholar entered who would determine their fate.
He looked diffidently at the Hebrew. “Do proceed,” he said in a thin voice. “Enlighten us.”
Daniel nodded respectfully. “I would like to thank you for the opportunity, your majesty. As the king has declared, no wise men, enchanters, magicians, or astrologers can the mystery of his dream, but there is a God in heaven who reveals mysteries. He has revealed it now to me, not because of any wisdom or righteousness that I have, but in order that the interpretation may be made known to the king, and that he may know the thoughts of his mind and of what is to take place in the days to come. In your dream, you looked, and behold, a statue of a man, great and terrifying, stood before you.”
Nebuchadnezzar gasped in his seat.
Most terrible, yes!
“The head of this image was of fine gold, its chest and arms of silver, its middle and thighs of bronze, its legs of iron, its feet partly of iron and partly of clay. As you looked, a stone was cut out by no human hand, and it smote the image on its feet of iron and clay, breaking them into pieces. Then the giant fell to the ground with an earth-shattering crash. It broke into a million pieces and the wind blew it all away like the chaff of the summer threshing floors. But the stone that struck the image grew and grew and became a great mountain and filled the whole earth.”
The counselors were dumb-founded and looked for a sign from the king’s face that Daniel’s fantastic telling was genuine or not. The king gripped the edges of the table and sat wide-eyed, panting in fear at his words. His mind reeled –
you and what God? You and what God?
“This was the dream that was given to you from the Most High. Now we will tell the king its interpretation. You, O king, are the head of gold. The God of the heavens has given you power and dominion over the beasts of the field, and the birds of the heavens. Another kingdom inferior to you shall arise after you, and after that one yet a third kingdom of bronze, which shall rule over all the earth. And there shall be a fourth kingdom, strong as iron, because iron breaks to pieces and shatters all things. And like iron that crushes, it shall break and crush all these.”
“And as you saw the feet and toes, partly of potter’s clay and partly of iron, it shall be a divided kingdom, with an iron-like strength but also mixed with a soft and brittle sort. And in the days of those kings the God of the heavens will set up a kingdom that shall never be destroyed or left to another people. It shall break in pieces all these kingdoms and bring them to an end, just as the stone that was cut from a mountain utterly destroyed all the kingdoms of the image. The kingdom of God shall stand forever. Of a truth, the dream is certain, and its interpretation sure.”
Nebuchadnezzar cried out and fell upon his face in homage before Daniel.
“Truly, your God is God of gods and Lord of kings, and a revealer of mysteries, for you have been able to reveal this mystery. Bring incense and a sacrifice to this divine personage, O Belteshazzar.”
“Whoa there, hey now –” Daniel threw his arms out, “O king, please stand to your feet. Remember, I am but a man!”
He compelled him to get up and with all the great assemblage there Daniel raised his voice to proclaim, “What is the might of man? What are all man’s riches? Might does not last, fame passes without notice, and one’s glory is swept away with the sand. Know this men of Babylon, the king’s dream was sent by the living God, who holds all the starry host in His hands and rules over the kingdoms of men! I am but His servant. To Him belongs all honor and glory and power forever.” And to the king, he nodded once more, “You may call me Daniel.”
“And now that that is resolved,” he smiled, “May I suggest His Majesty proceed to take a royal nap?”
Nebuchadnezzar yawned a huge lion-like yawn and smiled a sleepy smile of satisfaction. “Yes, I think that would be a very wise course of action, Daniel.”
After that day, Daniel had to move out of his home, for all the many gifts and presents and rewards - servants, precious stones, fabrics, horses - given to him by the king and some of the men whose necks he saved would not fit in it, and with such bountiful gifts he could provide for the many of the poor and destitute of the city. He was given many titles and lands and an administration over the whole province of Babylon and the position of chief prefect over all the wise men of Babylon. As Daniel’s request, the king also appointed Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah each over a third of the province.
This was not by any means the end of his adventures in Babylon though. As Chief Prefect of the Magi, Daniel was to be the king’s trusted friend and counselor at court and the king listened intently to the strange and marvelous stories of Daniel’s God.
But despite all of that, the king was as yet arrogant and foolish, as kings are often wont to be, and he had not quite learned his lesson. He still served his gods and as his victories and glories mounted, he forgot about his dream about the giant statue and how kingdoms of men rise and fall at the word of the God of heaven. Soon Nebuchadnezzar would attempt an act so heinous so as to provoke the fiery wrath of the God he has been spurning.
As for Daniel, he was to become one of the grand viziers of the realm. He nearly advanced in honor to take the throne as the King of Persia. And some say he also had a hand in slaying a dragon… But that’s another story.
* At first, I assumed the “siege” of 605 B.C. was a proper Lord of the Rings-style drag-out fight, bloodied orcs and elves laid astrewn over the battlements. Very Robert Howard-ish. But apparently the king merely encircled the city and made demands for spoils and what-not and then withdrew. It wasn’t until later during two other sieges that Jerusalem would be actually attacked and destroyed. Nevertheless, I wrote a passage with that initial assessment (conflating the different sieges), so as a deleted scene…
Now fire wastes through the streets, gutting the homes nearest the walls. Pestilence had crept in the windows and doors. At night, the sound of children wailing for their parents. When the men of Judah could hold out no longer, the gates were breached and in rushed the onslaught of the warriors of Shinar.
There from his post on the barricade, a boy who belonged to the royal house of Judah, Daniel by name, witnessed the bloodshed. He sees his friends and neighbors put to the sword, hacked down as they ran, choking on their prayers for deliverance. They would have been better off running out of the city to surrender. The dire words of Isaiah from a hundred years ago resounded in his head of the destruction that would befall the city, and the judgment to come from Hezekiah’s pride, that the treasures and royal descendents would be carried away to the palace of the ruler of Babylon.
He did what he could to resist the invaders and hold his spot, but he was but a youth and his tender hands had but recently learned to grip a sword. He was no shepherd-boy like David who could go head-to-head with bear and lion in the fields. Neither did he have the miraculous strength of Samson when he was down in Timnah to tear a lion apart with his bare hands.
He was met by two soldiers, coming at him at a pace. They did not hold back or waste time with taunts because he was boy. They meant to break his skull and search for any women in the house.
Daniel struck for the gaps between their armor, and tried to remember his footing to be able to dodge away – but at a blow he was down and it was over. When he came to, he was bound with rope, gathered with the other youth of Judah near the Fish Gate, a prisoner of war.
