Struggles with Daniel 2, Part 2

I talked in my post yesterday about the statue in Daniel 2.  I said that I identified with liberal scholars who argue that the legs represent Greece and the feet represent Alexander’s successors, the Diadachoi.  Conservative scholars tend to argue that the legs and feet represent Rome.

But there is one problem I have with the “liberal” position: what do the silver breast and arms represent?  Liberal scholars tend to say that they represent the Medes.  That means that the head is Babylon, the breast is Media, the thighs are Persia, the legs are Greece, and the feet are Alexander’s successors.  Conservative scholars, by contrast, tend to regard the breast as Medo-Persia.  That would mean that the head is Babylon, the breast is Medo-Persia, the thighs are Greece, the legs are Rome, and the feet may be a revived Roman empire of the future.

So what is my problem?  I have issues with the liberal argument that the silver breast represents the Medes.  While Daniel 5 says that Darius the Mede conquered Babylon, it also affirms that the Babylon will be given to the Medes and Persians.  In Daniel 6, Darius the king follows the law of the Medes and Persians, which tells me that Darius the conqueror of Babylon (according to Daniel, that is) is the king of the Medo-Persian empire, not just the Medes.  Consequently, it makes more sense to me for the silver breast to represent Medo-Persia as the kingdom that will succeed Babylon, not just Media.

Still, I cannot ignore the overlaps between the legs and feet, as well as the fourth beast of Daniel 7, with what Daniel seems to say about Greece and Alexander’s successors: the unsuccessful attempt to foster peace through intermarriage, the little horn persecuting God’s people, etc.  I just don’t know how everything squares together.

Struggles with Daniel 2

I am reading the Book of Daniel for my daily quiet time.  A few days ago, I was reading Daniel 2.

In Daniel 2, King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon has a dream about a statue, which is made of various metals.  A stone from heaven shatters the statue, and the stone becomes a mountain filling the entire earth.

The Jew Daniel interprets that dream to the king and says that the statue represents the kingdom of Nebuchadnezzar and the kingdoms that will come after him.  In the days of these kings, Daniel says, God will set up a kingdom that will fill the earth.

I grew up on this vision, since the church of my upbringing emphasized Bible prophecy.  We were taught that the statue’s head of gold was Nebuchadnezzar, its silver breast and arms were Medo-Persia, its bronze thighs were Greece, its iron legs were Rome, and its feet of clay and iron were a revived Roman empire, which would be the Antichrist whom God would overthrow in our future.

Many biblical scholars have interpreted the statue differently.  They see the iron legs as Greece, not Rome, and the feet of iron and clay as the divided Greek empire after Alexander the Great died.  The idea is that the author of Daniel 2 (or someone who added things to Daniel 2) was expecting God to set up God’s kingdom in the days of the Diadachoi, the Greek successors to Alexander.

As I was reading Daniel 2, that scholarly interpretation was making sense to me.  V 44 says that God would set up God’s kingdom in the days of those kings.  What kings?  Could it be the kings whom the statue represents—-Babylon, the Medes and Persians, and Greece?  Was the author expecting God to intervene when these kingdoms were still around?  If so, how could we say that Daniel 2 is about God setting up God’s kingdom in our own future, when there is no more Babylonian empire, Medo or Persian empire, or Greek empire?

V 42 says that the iron-clay mix means that this particular human kingdom will be strong, yet brittle.  That applies to the Diadachoi: they were strong, yet not as strong as Alexander’s empire, since they were divided.  And v 43 says that the iron and clay will mix with each other by human seed, which the NRSV translates as marriage.  As the HarperCollins Study Bible note states, “The Ptolemies and Seleucids unsuccessfully sought peace and stability between themselves through intermarriage…”  Daniel 11:6-7, 17 appears to describe this very attempt.  Are the iron-clay feet that will be overthrown by God’s kingdom a revived Roman empire of the future?  Or are they Alexander’s successors in the past?  Did the person who wrote these passages in Daniel 2 expect for God to overthrow Alexander’s successors and to set up God’s kingdom, only for that not to happen?

Of course, what I am saying poses theological problems.  Is Daniel’s prophecy human (rather than divine) in origin and incorrect in its ultimate prediction?  I suppose one could try to rescue Daniel by saying that the Seleucids are a type of the Antichrist that will come, or something like that.  But does that work, or is it an artificial attempt to explain away difficulties?

How can I read Daniel from a religious perspective, then?  Well, I do respect how people in Daniel stand up for what they believe, notwithstanding threats and potentially life-threatening consequences.  I also believe in God, on account of people’s experiences that indicate to me that there is a spiritual world, and also some hope that I have that a God who created this world will one day fix it.  I can honor Daniel as an expression of that hope.

Book Write-Up: The Abomination of Desolation in Biblical Eschatology

Desmond Ford.  The Abomination of Desolation in Biblical Eschatology.  Washington, D.C.: University Press of America, 1979.

I used to listen to Desmond Ford at one of the churches that I attended as a child.  The church’s leader would play for us tapes of Ford’s lectures and sermons, and that would be our message for many a Sabbath.  I also read Ford’s magazine, Good News Unlimited, as well as two of his books: The Forgotten Day, which is about the seventh-day Sabbath, and Daniel, which Ford wrote while he was still a Seventh-Day Adventist.  The Abomination of Desolation in Biblical Eschatology was Ford’s dissertation for the University of Manchester, where he worked under the supervision of renowned evangelical scholar F.F. Bruce.

I decided to read this book because I wanted to see how Ford interacted with the historical-critical method.  The “Abomination of Desolation” appears in the Book of Daniel, and also in Mark 13 and parallel passages in Matthew and Luke.  The concept, albeit not the term, appears to be in II Thessalonians, and Ford argues that it is in the Book of Revelation, as well.  Many scholars would identify the Abomination of Desolation in the Book of Daniel as what Antiochus Epiphanes did to the Jewish Temple in the second century B.C.E., and they would say that in Mark 13 the Abomination of Desolation relates to the Roman invasion of Jerusalem in 70 C.E.  These scholars tend to believe that both biblical writers were expecting an imminent eschatological intervention by God in (or close to) their own time, as God would overthrow evil and set up a new kingdom on earth.  But time passed, and this eschatological intervention by God apparently did not occur, neither in the second century B.C.E., nor in the first century C.E.  This poses a problem to a number of Christians.  Are Daniel and Mark 13 still indicators of what God will do, or are they simply dreams that were frustrated and invalidated?  How did Desmond Ford, one who believes that biblical eschatology is still relevant to today, interact with biblical scholarship that arguably undercuts the truth of Christianity?  Moreover, Seventh-Day Adventists tend to read into Daniel and Revelation things that arguably do not relate to those books’ original historical settings, such as events in medieval and Reformation history and the founding of the United States of America.  Did Ford hold these views when he was writing his dissertation, and, if so, how did he make his case within an academic world that largely focuses on the original historical contexts of biblical writings as the key to understanding their meaning, a world that would probably view Adventist eschatology as anachronistic in its treatment of the Bible?

In his dissertation, Ford quoted from a number of German and French sources, and I did not translate them while I was reading it.  Perhaps I should have, but I wanted to get through the book, and I did not want to devote a lot of time to looking up words or putting lengthy passages into Google Translate.  Consequently, my understanding of Ford’s position may be incomplete.  But I will share what I did get out of his dissertation.

Ford believes that the eschatological discourse in Mark 13 goes back to the historical Jesus.  He thinks that Jesus could have predicted the destruction of the Temple, the same way that some of the figures Josephus mentions predicted the destruction of the Temple.  (Notice that Ford does not appeal to Jesus’ supernatural ability to know the future.  While Ford critiques some of the presuppositions and conclusions of many biblical scholars, he still plays their game, when it comes to methodology.)  According to Ford, Mark 13 is also consistent with some of the details that Mark mentions about Jesus’ ministry: Jesus’ cleansing of the Temple, Jesus’ cursing of the fig tree, etc.  Ford appears to be open to the idea that Jesus in Mark 13 anticipates an eschaton that will surround the Roman occupation of Jerusalem.  Was Jesus therefore wrong, since that eschaton apparently did not materialize in 70 C.E.?  Ford does not think so, for he notes conditional elements to Mark 13.  Mark 13 states that the end will not come until the Gospel spreads to all the world, and that Jesus neither knows the day nor the hour of the parousia.  Perhaps, according to Jesus in Mark 13, the end would have come had the Gospel been preached to all the world, or had the Jews converted, Ford appears to argue.  That would have facilitated the triumph of the good.

Does Ford believe that Mark 13 will have a future fulfillment?  I would say that he does.  My problem is that I am not entirely clear as to the extent to which Ford believes that the Abomination of Desolation is historical, and the extent to which he believes that it is more general, or related to our future.  Ford thinks that the Abomination of Desolation in Mark 13 concerns the Roman armies invading Jerusalem.  However, while he does argue that II Thessalonians 2 and the Book of Revelation draw from Mark 13 as a source, he does not appear to interpret II Thessalonians 2 and Revelation primarily in reference to their historical contexts, or the events of 70 C.E.  He argues that the man of sin occupying the Temple in II Thessalonians 2 does not relate to the Jerusalem Temple, but rather is symbolic for the man of sin usurping the prerogatives of God.  Ford is open to the possibility that, say, the things that the Roman emperor Caligula did with respect to the Temple may have influenced Paul’s narration in II Thessalonians 2, and that the force restraining the man of sin may somehow relate to the Roman empire. (I was unclear as to where exactly Ford stood on this: He argued that the Holy Spirit was the restraining force, but he also appeared to be associating the Holy Spirit with the common grace that was behind the law-and-order within the Roman empire.)  Ford ultimately maintains that II Thessalonians 2 goes way beyond these historical events, and also way beyond the events of 70 C.E.  Ford in his discussion of Revelation has a similar policy.  Ford acknowledges that the Book of Revelation was for suffering Christians in the first century, but he largely resists interpreting Revelation in reference to first century people and events.

Does Ford believe in dual fulfillments of prophecy: that prophecy can have a historical fulfillment, but also a more general or end-time fulfillment?  Maybe.  He notes that the Book of Daniel re-applies Second Isaiah’s prophecies about the doom of Babylon, and he argues that Jesus believed that Antiochus did not exhaust the fulfillment of the Book of Daniel’s Abomination of Desolation.  Overall, my impression is that Ford was trying to situate the Abomination of Desolation within ancient history, in accordance with historical-critical standards, and yet that he was trying to give it a more general or end-time application, as well.  In my opinion, he could have done that more crisply and neatly than he did.

Daniel 9:24-27, and the Hardest Passage in Lee Harmon's Book

In my blog post today on Lee Harmon's Revelation: The Way It Happened, I'll be talking about the most difficult passage in Lee's book.  I'll use as my starting-point Daniel 9:24-27.  That passage says the following (according to the King James Version):

24 Seventy weeks are determined upon thy people and upon thy holy city, to finish the transgression, and to make an end of sins, and to make reconciliation for iniquity, and to bring in everlasting righteousness, and to seal up the vision and prophecy, and to anoint the most Holy.
25 Know therefore and understand, that from the going forth of the commandment to restore and to build Jerusalem unto the Messiah the Prince shall be seven weeks, and threescore and two weeks: the street shall be built again, and the wall, even in troublous times.
26 And after threescore and two weeks shall Messiah be cut off, but not for himself: and the people of the prince that shall come shall destroy the city and the sanctuary; and the end thereof shall be with a flood, and unto the end of the war desolations are determined.
27 And he shall confirm the covenant with many for one week: and in the midst of the week he shall cause the sacrifice and the oblation to cease, and for the overspreading of abominations he shall make it desolate, even until the consummation, and that determined shall be poured upon the desolate.

A significant number of people who interpret this passage believe that a day here actually means a year, and thus the seventy weeks are 490 years.  You start counting at "the going forth of the commandment to restore and to build Jerusalem".  People have different opinions about what that was, and thus at what year we should start the count.  Was it Ezra's decree in II Chronicles 36:22-23 and Ezra 1:2-4 that allowed Jews to return to their homeland, making the starting-year 538 B.C.E.?  Was it Artaxerxes' decree in Ezra 7 permitting Jews to return to their homeland and to beautify the Temple, making the starting-year 458-457 B.C.E.?  Was it Artaxerxes' permission for Nehemiah to go to Jerusalem to rebuild the city walls (Nehemiah 2:5-8), placing the starting-year at 445-444 B.C.E.?  Or was it Jeremiah's prophecy that Jerusalem would be rebuilt, putting the starting-year at around 597 B.C.E.?

The 458-457 B.C.E. starting-year works out best for a number of Christians, for the count ends up in the first half of the first century C.E., which was when Jesus Christ lived, died, and rose again.  For these Christians, Jesus Christ was the Messiah the prince of Daniel 9:25, and the Messiah who is cut off in Daniel 9:26.  There are Christians who even argue that Jesus was the one of Daniel 9:27 who would cause sacrifices to cease, since Jesus, through his atoning death, nullified the need for animal sacrifices.  A number of Christians regard Daniel 9:24-27 as a prophecy about Jesus Christ----more, an exact prediction of when Jesus Christ would come and die.

What if you start your count with any of the other starting-years?  Where do you end up?  Well, they take you to dead ends, as Lee Harmon on his blog discusses in this post.  They're dead-ends in the sense that nothing spectacular happened at those times.  There was no Messianic sort of figure who died in those years.

A number of historical-critics argue that the ending-point for Daniel 9 was intended to be the second century B.C.E., which was when Antiochus IV Epiphanes was desecrating the Temple, prompting the Maccabees to revolt.  The Messiah (or Anointed One) who is cut off in Daniel 9:25 is often interpreted within this scenario as the priest Onias III.  The destruction of the city and the abomination of desolation are interpreted in light of what Antiochus IV did.  This interpretation makes a degree of sense, for Daniel 7-12 does appear to concern the time of Antiochus IV, for a variety of reasons.  The problem is that you don't end up in the time of Antiochus IV when you count off from any of the proposed starting-years, the years decreeing the rebuilding of Jerusalem.  One attempt to solve this problem is to say that the Jews in this case did not keep good track of time: that they didn't know exactly how many years there were between the decree and such events as the Messiah being cut off and the abomination of desolation.  Another solution I have heard is that the 490 years are not literal but are formulaic or perhaps symbolic.  Lee in this blog post offers yet another proposal: that some of the years are concurrent (occurring simultaneously) rather than consecutive (occurring one after the other).  According to this view, the forty-nine years (seven weeks) of Daniel 9:25 are between the destruction of Jerusalem in 586 B.C.E. and Cyrus' decree around 537 B.C.E. that the Jews could return to Jerusalem.  The 62 weeks, or 434 years, of Daniel 9:25 are the time between Jeremiah's prophecy of Jerusalem's restoration, which Jeremiah made around the year 597 B.C.E., and 167 B.C.E., which is the time of Antiochus IV.  So the 49 years and the 434 years overlap.  My problem, however, is that I don't understand why Lee starts the count for the 49 years at 586 B.C.E., the year of Jerusalem's destruction.  My impression from Daniel 9:25 is that the count for the 49 years starts from the decree to rebuild Jerusalem, not the year that Jerusalem was destroyed.

Okay, so the 490 years do not fit the Antiochus IV interpretation all that well.  Many conservative Christians would say that the 490 years fits the Jesus Christ interpretation perfectly!  But there are problems here, which Lee discusses in Revelation: The Way It Happened.  So you start your count with Artaxerxes' decree in 458-457 B.C.E.  The Messiah, according to Daniel 9:25, comes 483 years later, which is 25-26 C.E., the time when Jesus was alive on earth.  The thing is, near the end of these 490 years from the decree to rebuild the Temple, something else is supposed to happen: the destruction of the city and the sanctuary.  There are many Christians who apply this to the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 C.E.----"Christ fulfilled Daniel 9!", they proclaim, "since Christ was crucified, and later Jerusalem and the Temple were destroyed!"  But there is a serious mathematical problem, here.  Daniel 9:24-27 appears to present the destruction of Jerusalem and the sanctuary as occurring right after the Messiah has been cut off, not over four decades later.  If we interpret the destruction of the city and sanctuary in Daniel 9:26 in reference to the events of 70 C.E., then we have more than 490 years: we have 528 years!  But the text says 490 years is allotted for all these things to take place.

In Lee's book, a Christian named Samuel and his son Matthew discuss these issues.  Matthew says that he heard from his tutor that Daniel 9:24-27 was about Antiochus IV's desecration of the Temple, and the Jews' subsequent purification of it.  In this scenario, the events of Daniel 9:24-27 are in the past, and they took place in close proximity with one another, as the text seems to present.  We then get into some speculation: Perhaps the events of 70 C.E. did take place very soon after the death of Jesus, but it was Jesus son of Ananus, the one in Josephus' Wars of the Jews 6:300ff (see Chapter 5 here) who predicted the fall of Jerusalem, four years before it happened. 

I don't think that Jesus son of Ananus would work as the Messiah of Daniel 9, since he doesn't fit the 490 years.  Again, 70 C.E. (or even a few years earlier than that, which was when Jesus son of Ananus preached) is much too late!  In any case, it's when Lee talks about Jesus son of Ananus that things start to get confusing.  Lee disagrees with the view that Jesus of Nazareth in Mark's Gospel was "nothing more than a composite of several wartime historical characters" (page 176), for Paul talks about Jesus decades prior to the Jewish wars; thus, Lee believes that there was a historical Jesus of Nazareth.  But Lee does seem to argue that Mark's depiction of Jesus of Nazareth was, on some level, based on John of Ananus, and Lee lists similarities between the two: they were believed to be possessed by a demon, they preached at the Temple, they "declared woes upon Jerusalem and the temple", they were scourged, and they were silent when they were chastened and when they appeared before an official.  Moreover, Lee appears to be suggesting that there are other Jesuses behind the Jesus of New Testament theology: there is the high priest Jesus (or Joshua) in the Book of Zechariah, who was one of the original two witnesses, and there was Jesus son of Gamala, who could have been one of the inspirations for the two witnesses in the Book of Revelation.  Remember that the two witnesses in Revelation 11 are killed, rise again three-and-a-half days later, and go to heaven, and this is followed by an earthquake.  This sort of thing happens to Jesus in some of the Gospels: he dies, rises from the dead three days later, and ascends to heaven, and Matthew's Gospel mentions some earthquakes going on during these events.  I'm not sure whether Lee's on to something, or if what we're seeing are mere coincidences or floating motifs that are being applied to different people.

But let's get back to Daniel 9!  Samuel in Lee's book interprets Daniel 9:27 in this manner: we have the final week of the seventy weeks, and this is seven days, or actually seven years.  The first three-and-a-half years are the events of the Jewish war around 70: the abomination of desolation and the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple.  The second three-and-a-half years are when Jesus restores the Temple.  Samuel refers to a saying that appears on the lips of Jesus in John 2:19: "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up" (this saying appears in a slightly different form in Mark's Gospel, which is earlier; see Mark 14:58; 15:29).  Samuel interprets this to mean that Jesus would rebuild the Temple three years (remember, a day equals a year in Daniel 9) after its destruction, which is similar to how he sees Daniel 9:27. 

There are two questions that one can ask.  First, wasn't Jesus in John 2:19 referring to his own resurrection on the third day, with the Temple representing his body?  But that was in the Gospel of John, which was later than the Book of Revelation, and was also later than the setting for Samuel and Matthew's conversations in Lee's book.  Samuel does not know about this.  According to Lee, Samuel does not even know the stories about Jesus' bodily resurrection or appearances.  These stories would first appear in the Gospel of Matthew, which has not been written yet.  (The child Matthew has not yet grown up and written it.)  The Gospel of Mark, after all, simply ends with the tomb being empty, and the women not telling anyone because they were afraid.

Second, Matthew in Lee's book asks: If Jesus were to rebuild the temple three or three-and-a-half years after its destruction, why hasn't he yet?  The setting for Samuel and Matthew's conversations is nine years after the destruction of the temple.  Samuel replies that he doesn't know, but he speculates that the city may have been rebuilt in heaven: it's already built, but it hasn't come down to earth yet!

At this time, I'd like to quote the hardest passage in Lee's book.  It's on pages 179-180:

"Where did the Gospel of John come up with this idea, this alternative interpretation of rebuilding the Temple?  Well, in a curious way, it parallels Revelation, which hints at an oral tradition, and some of Paul's writings also compare our bodies to the Temple of God.  Note that Revelation actually specifies precisely three and a half days (years?) before the resurrection of the three priests, which better fits the vision of Daniel, if his 'rebuilding of the Temple' depicts the resurrection of the body of Jesus.  Daniel divided his final 'week' into two three-and-a-half day/year periods.  Jesus, the peasant prophet, and Jesus, the resurrected priest, come together to tell the story of Jesus of Nazareth, each contributing three and a half years/days to perfectly fulfill the final week of the prophecy of Daniel, and John, Revelation's author, can safely forget about the restoration of the Temple promised in Daniel and Mark from then on."

I've read this paragraph a number of times, and I still don't get it!  Lee's still a talented writer throughout the vast majority of this book, however.  And, even if I don't understand that one paragraph, I enjoyed reading his discussion on Daniel 9:24-27, and the tangents where that led him.
 

Some Interesting Points in Goldstein's II Maccabees

I started Jonathan Goldstein's Anchor Bible commentary on II Maccabees.

Goldstein dates I Maccabees to 90 B.C.E., Jason of Cyrene's work to 86 B.C.E., and the abridgement of Jason's work that we recognize as II Maccabees to 78/7-63 B.C.E.  Goldstein offers various reasons for his date for I Maccabees, but he believes that II Maccabees came later because it appears to respond to I Maccabees----to dispute some of I Maccabees' details.  At the same time, Goldstein maintains that I Maccabees and II Maccabees drew from a common source, for they overlap on a variety of details, such as Jason's construction of a gymnasium.

I go into the ideological differences between I Maccabees and II Maccabees in my post here.  In this write-up of Goldstein, I'll mention two details that stood out to me.  First, Goldstein argues that II Maccabees does not regard the Jerusalem Temple as fully chosen by God and thus recognizes other sanctuaries; I Maccabees, by contrast, appears to dislike sanctuaries other than the one in Jerusalem.  Second, Goldstein maintains that I Maccabees and II Maccabees had different approaches to the Book of Daniel (which Goldstein may date to the second century B.C.E.).  I Maccabees does not shy away from mentioning the events surrounding Antiochus that did not transpire as Daniel predicted; II Maccabees, by contrast, ignores those details or tries to show that many of Daniel's prophecies indeed were fulfilled.

Did Jesus Speak Hebrew?

I started Brad Young's Jesus and His Jewish Parables: Rediscovering the Roots of Jesus' Teachings.  In my latest reading, Brad Young defends the view that Jesus' spoken language was Hebrew.

I wrote a post a few months ago that touched on John Meier's discussion of the language that Jesus spoke.  Meier argued that Hebrew in Jesus' day was primarily literary, whereas Aramaic was the spoken language in Palestine.  Meier also contends that the existence of Targumim, Aramaic translations and elaborations of the Hebrew Bible, attest to the fact that most of the Jews spoke and understood Aramaic.

Young has a variety of responses to these sorts of arguments.  First of all, Young argues that the Targumim were later than the time of Jesus.  Second, Young notes that most of the documents of the Dead Sea Scrolls are in Hebrew, whereas only a few are in Aramaic.  After noting that the Manual of Discipline is in Hebrew, Young states that "It is hard to imagine that the sect would have written this treatise in a language that would be difficult for its initiates or members to understand even if the literary nature of the scroll makes it highly unlikely that it could accurately represent the spoken language of the people" (pages 40-41).  Third, against the claim that Hebrew was only a scholarly language, Young contends that the Hebrew Bar-Koseba letters indicate that even mundane concerns could be discussed in Hebrew.  Young offers other arguments as well.

What does Young do with the times when Jesus in the Gospels speaks Aramaic?  On page 52, he states that "Mark...seems to be interested to add color to his narrative by adding some Aramaic phrases."  I wish that Young clarified why Mark would do this.  Why would Mark choose to use the Aramaic language to add color to his narrative?

Moreover, while Young does well to note that many Targumim are late, there are some that are early, such as the Targumim in the Dead Sea Scrolls.

I think that Young does well to ask why Hebrew was so prominent in the time of Jesus, if few understood it.  Could nationalism be a reason for the use of Hebrew, the same way that some have argued that parts of the Book of Daniel were in Hebrew for nationalistic purposes?

Witherington on Jesus' Eschatology, Son of Man, and Abba

I have three items for my write-up today on Ben Witherington III's The Christology of Jesus.

1.  In my post on this book yesterday, I struggled to understand Witherington's view on Jesus' eschatology, as I sought an answer to the question of whether Witherington believes that Jesus envisioned an immanent eschaton that would overturn the current world order and establish the Kingdom of God.  On page 214, Witherington states the following:

"...we saw Jesus as an eschatological messenger who announced the near coming and even presence of the dominion of God.  More than this, however, clearly from Luke 11:20/Matt. 12:28 Jesus saw himself as in some sense bringing in the final eschatological dominion of God, insofar as it affected the human condition directly.  By contrast, there is little or no evidence that Jesus thought he was bringing in that dominion in a way that would cause cosmological change during his ministry.  Human history and human lives are the arena into which he sees the dominion breaking, in spite of the unchanged nature of the earth, the cosmos, and even the continuing existence of 'this generation' or, as Paul called it, 'this present evil age.'  God's dominion is breaking into the midst of a dark world without immediately transforming or obliterating it all.  Only those who have eyes can discern its presence."

Jesus may not have thought that his ministry was causing cosmological change, but did he believe that cosmological change was imminent?

2.  Witherington discusses different views on the Son of Man (who will rule) in Daniel 7.  The first view states that the Son of Man was "one or more angels", for Gabriel in Daniel is said to be one "like the appearance of the sons of humanity" (Daniel 10:16), and Daniel 7 refers, not to a man, but to one like the Son of Man.  Witherington disagrees with this view because Daniel 7:27 affirms that the kingdom will be giving to "the people of the saints of the Most High" (Witherington's words), not to angels, plus the suffering Israelites would not find comfort in the angels being given the kingdom.  Witherington also asks in what sense the horn ("perhaps Antiochus") waged war against the angels (page 239).

I think that the first view deserves more consideration, for Daniel 12:1 says that Michael will stand up and calls him (in the words of the KJV) "the great prince which standeth for the children of thy people."  In addition, Daniel 8:10 talks about the little horn casting down the hosts of heaven.  And I can see the suffering Israelites finding comfort in the notion that angels will rule them, for that is better than Gentile oppressors ruling them.

The second view states that the Son of Man is "a symbol for Israel, or at least for faithful Israel----the 'Saints of the most High' who endure persecution" (page 238).  Witherington thinks that this view makes sense because animals symbolized kingdoms, and so it would be reasonable for the Son of Man to symbolize Israel.  Witherington states that the "symbolism would indicate the inhumanity or 'unhumanity' of the pagan empires in comparison with the people of God" (page 239).  Moreover, Daniel 7:27 affirms that dominion will be given to the saints.  For Witherington, a collective understanding of the Son of Man would have comforted the suffering Israelites.

The third view is the the Son of Man in Daniel 7 is an individual representative of Israel, such as a Messiah.  This is the position with which Witherington agrees.  One reason is that the four beasts in Daniel 7:27 are said to represent four kings, who are individual representatives of nations, and so the Son of Man could likewise be an individual representative of Israel.  Moreover, early use of the phrase "Son of Man" (i.e., the Similitudes of Enoch) regarded it as Messianic.  And Witherington states that, in Daniel 7:27, the reign of the Son of Man "meant the reign of the saints since he was their ruler and representative" (page 240).  The reign of Israel's representative will entail the rule of Israel's saints over the world, in short.

3.  Scholars have advanced two arguments based on Aramaic: that the word "Abba" is not a special term of intimacy (such as "Daddy") but simply contains an Aramaic construction making a noun definite ("the father"), and that the term "Son of Man" is a circumlocution, a method of self-reference (meaning "I").  Witherington disagrees with these arguments, for he maintains that they are based on later Aramaic sources rather than the Aramaic that existed during the time of Jesus.  Regarding "Abba", Witherington believes that Jewish sources (i.e., Targum Malachi 2:10) and the New Testament (Mark 14:36; Romans 8:15; Galatians 4:6) indicate that the word is an expression of intimacy.

In the Days of These Kings (Daniel 2)

Growing up in the Armstrongite tradition, I heard about Nebuchadnezzar's dream of the image in Daniel 2 over and over again. It was also emphasized in an independent Seventh-Day church that I attended. I continually learned and relearned that the head of gold was Babylon, the chest and arms of silver represented the Medo-Persian empire, the belly and thighs of bronze were the Greek empire, and the legs of iron and feet of iron and clay were the Roman empire. In Daniel 2, a stone from heaven lands on the feet of the statue, thereby shattering the entire image and making it like chaff. My Armstrongite heritage maintained that this means that Christ would return when the revived Roman empire----a United States of Europe----was holding sway, for (according to Armstrongites and others) the Roman empire is destroyed in Daniel 2, and that must indicate that there will be a Roman empire when Christ comes back.

As I look at wikipedia's article (see here----and I will not publish comments giving me flack over using wikipedia), I see that some groups differentiate between the legs of iron and the feet of iron mixed with clay. Jehovah's Witnesses, for example, suggest that the legs of iron are Rome, whereas the feet are the Anglo-American World Power. Seventh-Day Adventists maintain that the legs are Rome, and that the feet are a global religio-political government.

What I got from my reading of historical-critics of the Bible was different: the head was taken to be Babylon, the chest and arms to be the Medes, the belly and thighs to be the Persians, and the feet of iron and clay to be the Greeks and empires descended from them. The idea was that Daniel 2 reflects the hope that God would overthrow the Seleucid (Syro-Greek) tyrant, Antiochus Epiphanes, thereby vindicating Israel and ending Gentile domination over her.

Something that my Dad brought to my attention years ago was that the rock from heaven does not just shatter the fourth (or fifth) kingdom; rather, it destroys the entire image. This reminds me of Revelation 13, where the Beast is presented as a combination of the animals of Daniel 7, who represent world empires that had dominion over Israel. What is the significance of the entire image being reduced to dust? I can think of various answers. The entire image represents Gentile dominion over Israel, and that collapses when God sets up his kingdom. The entire image symbolizes the evil world system, which has existed for centuries and which God will bring to an end. The Beast will resemble (and embody) and yet surpass in viciousness his predecessors. And the list can go on.

It was interesting to see an attempt to wrestle with the issue of the entire image collapsing in The Cambridge History of Judaism, Volume Two: The Hellenistic Age. H.L. Ginsberg (a legend who taught at one of my alma maters, Jewish Theological Seminary) addresses this topic in his article on Daniel. On page 511, Ginsberg argues that Daniel 2 had to have been written when the four kingdoms were still standing, in some form-----when there were at least remnants or petty kingdoms of Babylon, the Medes, the Persians, and the Greeks. After all, does not v 44 say that God will set up his kingdom in the days of those kings? Consequently, Ginsberg looks for a time that fits this bill. In 310-circa 301 B.C.E., the territory of Seleucus I centered on Babylon and technically was not a part of the Greek kingdom, which was "a bone of contention among Ptolemy, (Demetrius son of) Antigonus, Cassander, and Lysimachus" (page 512). That, for Ginsberg, was when much of Daniel 2 was written. The four kingdoms (Babylon included) were standing on some level, and there was an expectation that God would overthrow all of them.

But Ginsberg believes that an interpolation, vv 42-43, disrupts this picture. These verses say (in the King James Version): "And as the toes of the feet were part of iron, and part of clay, so the kingdom shall be partly strong, and partly broken. And whereas thou sawest iron mixed with miry clay, they shall mingle themselves with the seed of men: but they shall not cleave one to another, even as iron is not mixed with clay." Ginsberg interprets these verses in light of the events of 252-246 B.C.E., when there was an unsuccessful attempt to fuse the Seleucids and the Ptolemies through marriage. In this interpretation, vv 42-43 present the Seleucids as "a part of the divided Greek kingdom", which extend from the legs of iron, whereas vv 44-45 (according to Ginsberg) maintain that the Seleucids were Babylonian, the head of gold. Ginsberg states that vv 42-43 contradict vv 44-45, unless the interpolator who inserted vv 42-43 "was under the impression that Molon, the revolting satrap of Media, also controlled Babylonia" (page 512). But does Molon ruling Babylonia count as a remnant of the Babylonian empire?

Calvin on Daniel 4:27: Alms and Forgiveness

Johannes Quasten, Patrology, vol. II: The Ante-Nicene Literature After Irenaeus (Westminster: Christian Classics, 1990) 358.

Cyprian was an African bishop in the third century. He states the following about God's forgiveness of sins:

As in the laver of saving water the fire of hell is extinguished, so by almsgiving and works of righteousness the flame is subdued. And because in baptism remission of sins is granted once for all, constant and ceaseless good works, following the likeness of baptism, once again bestow the mercy of God...those who after the grace of baptism became foul, may once more be cleansed.

Cyprian affirms that alms and good works can atone for a Christian's sins. His view was not radical, for other early Christian authors make this same claim. The apocrypha/deuterocanonical writings also present alms as a path to atonement. See my post, Legalistic Christians?

I say in that post: "And, to the Protestants who will say, 'That's one reason we don't like the apocrypha--it promotes salvation by works,' take a look at what Daniel tells Nebuchadnezzar in Daniel 4:27: 'atone for your sins with righteousness, and your iniquities with mercy to the oppressed, so that your prosperity may be prolonged' (NRSV). I do believe that Daniel is part of the Protestant canon."

On my Christian dating site, I once got into a discussion about Daniel 4:27 with some Protestant believers. Actually, I was the one who brought the verse up. A lady was saying that the apocrypha is bad because it promotes false doctrines, like alms atoning for sin. That went against her Protestant belief that we receive forgiveness only by trusting in Christ's death on the cross and his resurrection from the dead (sola fide, sola gratia, etc.). So I pointed out the Daniel passage to show her that atonement through alms is also in the Protestant canon.

In response, a Calvinist brother posted a link to John Calvin's lengthy interaction with Daniel 4:27. I much prefer for people to speak in their own words than to refer me to a book or article, but I guess I should get used to the latter, being in academia. In this post, I want to discuss John Calvin's treatment of Daniel 4:27, largely because July 10 will be the 500th anniversary of his birth.

Here's the passage: Daniel 4:27.

Calvin is all over the map in his treatment of Daniel 4:27. He does not agree with Catholics, who appeal to this passage to argue that good works can atone for sin. And so he offers the following alternatives:

1. Calvin treats the word translated as "atone" (peruq) as "break off," which is one meaning of the word. In this interpretation, Daniel is exhorting the king to free himself from his wrongdoing by performing good deeds. "Cease doing evil, and learn to do good" is what Calvin interprets this passage to mean. This is consistent with the Protestant view, which wants sinners to make a clean break from their sinful lifestyles. This may be what the King James Version has in mind when it translates the phrase, "break off thy sins."

Regarding the phrase that the NRSV translates "so that your prosperity may be prolonged," Calvin renders it as "this medicine may be suitable for the error." Calvin interprets this to mean that practicing righteousness is a cure for habitual evildoing. I have no idea where Calvin is getting this understanding of the phrase. The Aramaic reads "and they will be length for your prosperity" (or so my BibleWorks translates the words). Calvin states that the Greek carries the idea of "cure," but what I see in the Greek is this: "so that kindness may be given to you and you may be many days on the throne of your kingdom..." I have difficulty translating the rest of the passage, and I can't find any English translation of the LXX for it, since most translations seem to use another manuscript. But I can't find anything about "cure" as I put my mouse over the Greek words.

2. Another possibility that Calvin raises: Daniel is basically saying to Nebuchadnezzar, "Repent, and God will forgive you." True repentance occurs in the heart, and yet it is made manifest in good works. According to Calvin, the Hebrew prophets often describe repentance in terms of doing good for one's fellow human being, so Daniel is following that custom. One thing is evident, as far as Calvin is concerned: the "good works" that Daniel promotes are not the sorts of things that Catholics promote as means of atonement (i.e., fasting, rituals, pilgrimages); rather, they are acts of genuine righteousness.

3. In his third interpretation, Calvin acknowledges that peruq can mean "redeem," but he denies that the redemption is God's forgiveness of sins, which cannot be earned by good works. Rather, Calvin applies peruq to Nebuchadnezzar's forgiveness by human beings: Nebuchadnezzar makes restitution to those he hurt, thereby receiving their forgiveness.

I'm not sure what to do with Calvin's interpretations. When I first read them a while back, they looked like a stretch, but now they seem fairly reasonable. Overall, I think that Daniel was telling Nebuchadnezzar to start a new kind of life: one that was humble and kind rather than proud, selfish, and harmful to others. Then, God would take notice and grant Nebuchadnezzar long life and prosperity. Whether that accords better with the Protestant or Catholic view of forgiveness, I have no idea.

Ancient Higher Critic?

Source: H. Graetz, History of the Jews, volume II (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society of America, 1893) 502.

"In Daniel, the Christian dogmatists had discovered a Sibylline book, with vague insinuations and mystic numbers, which they contended contained prophecies related to the Christian economy and to the appearance of Christ on the Day of Judgment. In opposition to these views the heathen philosopher Porphyry wrote a polemical commentary on the book of Daniel, which is certainly the only biblical commentary composed by a heathen. This neo-Platonist...asserted in his commentary that the book of Daniel is the work of an author who lived during the time of the persecution of Judaism and the Jews by the Syrian monarch, Antiochus Epiphanes, and that the ambiguous expressions in which it abounds are only allusions to that period, and in no wise prophecies, still less oracular proofs of the facts of Christianity."

Porphyry lived in the third-fourth centuries C.E. According to Graetz, he had a historical-critical approach to the Book of Daniel, one which interpreted it in light of the events surrounding Antiochus Epiphanes in the second century B.C.E. I wonder if Porphyry believed that Daniel had expectations that failed to come to pass, since many historical critics maintain that Daniel expected God to shatter the dominion of Antiochus and to set up God's kingdom on earth immediately thereafter. God indeed did get rid of Antiochus, but he didn't set up his kingdom in the second century B.C.E. But Porphyry wouldn't fear such an interpretation, since he was a heathen: he had nothing to lose if Daniel turned out to make false predictions.

Interestingly, N.T. Wright is a Christian, but he also interprets Daniel in light of the second century B.C.E. In The New Testament and the People of God, for example, he interprets the Son of Man of Daniel 7:13 as the righteous people of Israel. Still, I once heard him contend that Jesus fulfilled the role of the Son of Man when he came to God at his resurrection, since the coming of the Son of Man in Daniel is the son going to God, not the son coming to earth. So Wright believes that the Son of Man is Israel, yet he also applies it to Jesus. How can he do both? Is he doing what some Christians have done regarding the Servant Songs in Isaiah: they originally referred to righteous Israelites, but Jesus was the main person to fulfill that role?

Legalistic Christians?

Source: H. Graetz, History of the Jews, volume II (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society of America, 1893) 473.

"[According to the Mishna, t]he discharge of certain duties secures the enjoyment of reward on earth and in the world to come; such are the veneration of parents, charity, timely attendance at the school, hospitality, and endowment of (indigent) brides, the accompanying of corpses to the grave, devout prayer, peace-making, and especially the pursuit of religious studies (Talmud Torah)...The most heinous and atrocious sins are expiated by death, and lesser ones by repentance and the Day of Atonement, while pardon was obtained for sins of negligence by sacrifice."

What must one do to be saved--to be forgiven of sins, to receive acceptance from God, and to enter the good afterlife? Many Christians believe that this is the crucial issue that separates Christianity from Judaism and Islam. For them, Christians hold fast to justification by faith through grace alone, whereas other religions embrace some form of salvation by works. At a Jewish institution, a colleague of mine wrote a paper that contrasted the Mishnah with Tertullian, and he argued that Christians are grace-centered, whereas Jews focus more on the nuts-and-bolts of halakah.

To my surprise, the student's professor responded that Tertullian was actually quite legalistic. This somewhat undermined my colleagues stereotype of Christianity, but I can actually see the professor's point as I read through Christian literature. Look at all the good deeds in Graetz's quote that the Mishnah treats as a path to eternal life. A Christian wouldn't agree with that sort of "salvation by works" mindset, would he?

Not so fast! Barnabas 14:20 says, "Thou shalt also labour with thy hands to give to the poor, that thy sins may be forgiven thee."

(This is according to the translation in The Lost Books of the Bible and the Forgotten Books of Eden. The version on BibleWorks does not have that. It numbers the chapters and the verses differently, and it has, "Thou shalt remember the day of judgment, night and day. Thou shalt seek out every day the faces of the saints, either by word examining them, and going to exhort them, and meditating how to save a soul by the word, or by thy hands thou shalt labor for the redemption of thy sins." So I don't know if there are different manuscripts at work, or what.)

II Clement 16:4 (in the BibleWorks version) says that almsgiving lessens the burden of sin. These Christian writings are consistent with the deutero-canonical documents, which state that giving alms performs an atoning function (Sirach 3:30; Tobit 12:9). And, to the Protestants who will say, "That's one reason we don't like the apocrypha--it promotes salvation by works," take a look at what Daniel tells Nebuchadnezzar in Daniel 4:27: "atone for your sins with righteousness, and your iniquities with mercy to the oppressed, so that your prosperity may be prolonged" (NRSV). I do believe that Daniel is part of the Protestant canon.

Something else to note is that Origen, like the Mishnah, believed that a person's death could atone for his sins (or at least certain ones). I remember reading this in Origen's Homilies on Leviticus.

Don't get me wrong. The early Christians and the church fathers firmly believed that Christ atoned for people's sins, and they held fast to the necessity of faith in Jesus Christ for salvation. In terms of atonement, they wouldn't view almsgiving as an alternative to Jesus Christ.

But they saw atonement differently from a lot of contemporary evangelicals. For the ancient Christians, people needed forgiveness even after they embraced Jesus Christ at baptism.

Canon and Ben Sira

Source: M. Gilbert, "Wisdom Literature," Jewish Writings of the Second Temple Period, ed. Michael E. Stone (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984) 300.

On Ben Sira:

"In the first century C.E. the book continued to circulate, as at Masada and Qumran. But nothing is known about the use made of it or the interpretation it was given in Judaism. There is no trace of its canonicity being debated at the synod of Jamnia (Yavneh) at the end of the century. One even has the impression that no objections were raised to its not being part of the Jewish canon of scripture. The opinion of Rabbi Akiba (d. after 135 C.E.) is of great importance. According to P.T. Sanhedrin 10, 28a, Akiba held that the book of Ben Sira was one of the 'exterior books, the reading of which excludes from the world to come.' According to Moore, the 'exterior books' would be the equivalent of 'the books of the minim', meaning those of heretics, as can be seen from B.T. Sanhedrin 100b, and probably according to T. Yadaim 2:13, Christian books. But Ginsberg has shown that 'exterior books' are simply 'books which are not part of the canon of scripture'. According to Rabbi Akiba, they could not be used for public reading or for school instruction. But Ben Sira could be read in private. And the many quotations from it given by the Tannaim and the Amoraim show that it was highly esteemed."

Ben Sira may have considered himself divinely-inspired. In Sirach 24:33, he says that he will, "pour out teaching like prophecy, and leave it to all future generations" (NRSV).

I'm not sure why some believed he belonged in the biblical canon, or why others did not. I've learned at least one thing from my study of the deutero-canonical writings: the post-apostolic fathers disagreed about the status of what Protestants call the "apocrypha." And scholars usually seek ideological reasons that Jews rejected the deutero-canonical writings: Ben Sira, for example, doesn't believe in an afterlife.

But there are books that made it into the Jewish canon, and they don't really believe in an afterlife either. Job is one example. Ecclesiastes is another. And, as we saw in Uninspired Canonical Books?, rabbis debated about Ecclesiastes' inspiration.

Some think that the deutero-canonical writings were excluded because the Christians used them. That's what a Catholic apologist said in a debate with James White. Maybe, but I don't see how the "apocrypha" supports Christian doctrine more than other books of the Hebrew Bible.

One professor told me years ago that the problem was their language: they weren't in Hebrew or Aramaic. But some of them had Hebrew or Aramaic originals (i.e., Ben Sira, possibly Tobit), so language can't be the only factor behind their rejection.

I've read somewhere that the rabbis closed the canon with Ezra, implying that they viewed Ezra as the last prophet. And that fits the Jewish canon quite well. The Hebrew Bible does not contain a prophet after the time of Ezra. While liberal scholars date Daniel to the second century B.C.E., the book presents itself as exilic, and that's probably what the rabbis went with when they included it in the canon. And Jewish tradition affirms that Ezra wrote Chronicles, the last book of the Hebrew Bible.

Why did Christians accept the deutero-canonical writings? I'm not sure. Maybe it was because Jews in the diaspora embraced them (for whatever reason). Or perhaps they weren't eager to close the canon with Ezra, since they believed that prophecy still continued. After all, they had their own set of new biblical books, which post-dated Ezra by over five centuries. We call it the New Testament. So why wouldn't they believe that books after Ezra could be inspired?

The Palestinian Jews, however, may have desired a clear cut-off point because of the instability of prophecy. As a professor at Hebrew Union College once said, prophets create instability, since they can claim a divine revelation that undermines the social structure. And, in the time of the Romans, the Jews felt they didn't need prophets who continually instigated political revolution. That may be why they made Ezra the cut-off man.

Dealing with Life's Unfairness

I read Susanna yesterday for my daily quiet time. Susanna is a part of various Greek texts of the Book of Daniel.

Susanna is a beautiful woman who happens to be married. There are two wicked elders who want her badly. And so they approach her in the garden and bluntly proposition her. She decides to obey God rather than man, so the elders make up a story that they saw her with a young hunk who was not her husband. People believe the elders, and they're about to put Susanna to death.

At just the right time, Daniel enters the picture. He asks to question each elder individually, and he finds that their stories conflict with each other. Daniel tells them that God will exact retribution for their record of unjust judgments. Susanna is freed, and Daniel gains a reputation as a wise man.

It's almost like a movie, in which the bad guys lose and good triumphs in the end. One commentary I read stated that the Susanna section doesn't really hope for a good afterlife, since it expects God to reward and punish in the here-and-now.

But I don't think that the Susanna portion is all that optimistic. After all, these wicked elders had wreaked a lot of lives in their positions. Where was the happy ending of the people they wronged? When these elders sided with the rich and powerful, who robbed, exploited, or oppressed the poor, the poor were left holding the short end of the stick.

Many of us know that life is not fair. Those who do right are not always rewarded. Those who do wrong are not always punished. There are people in the world with disabilities or other disadvantages, which may be related to health, economics, physical appearance, or who knows what else?

A while back, I was complaining about my Asperger's on this blog, and someone told me I should be glad I'm not in a wheelchair (or something to that effect). And I am glad about that, since things can always be worse. But I don't think that lets God off the hook, since why does he allow anybody to suffer? Why is life so unfair?

Here are three points I got from Susanna:

1. Maybe God does reward and punish in this life. I don't know, to be honest. I'm not sure if life always (or usually) works out like Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, but I wouldn't be surprised if God every-now-and-then gives the wicked what they deserve, while he rewards the righteous.

2. We can be a part of the solution. Susanna would have been unjustly executed, had Daniel not stepped forward. And Daniel ensured that, in at least that one situation, fairness and righteousness got to prevail.

The problem is that people who engage in social justice can easily become burnt-out, since the challenges they face are so big. How can I as an individual end poverty? Our government hasn't even accomplished that, so how can little James Pate? But I can try to bring justice to individual situations. I don't have to blow off people who may not attract me, but I can be kind and fair to them. I can give money to food banks so that people can have an opportunity to eat. I can be part of the solution rather than part of the problem.

3. Susanna prayed when she was facing injustice. This isn't always easy. If God allows unfairness in so many situations, why should I trust that he'll make an exception in my case? I don't know. But it doesn't hurt to talk to him.

One thing I'm afraid of is that I'll be in a situation where someone can falsely accuse me of something, and I'll be unable to defend myself. My accuser will have the social skills to make me look bad, whereas I'll be helpless. What will I do if that situation arises? There are people with Asperger's who are bullied in schools and on the job. Where is God in their situations?

I should be concerned about those questions and support attempts to alleviate such problems. At the same time, I should trust God for myself, even if it looks like he's not doing much for others. It's hard, but what else can I do?

Spaceballs: Daniel 11:14 and the Vision

I finished my daily quiet time on Daniel a few days ago. Throughout the few weeks that I've been reading the book, the issue that has preoccupied my mind in my quiet time has been Daniel's date: Was it written in the sixth century B.C.E. (which is the book's setting for the visions) or the second century B.C.E. (the time of the Antiochan persecution)?

I have wondered if Daniel 11:14 is relevant to Daniel's date. The passage states (in the NRSV): "In those times many shall rise against the king of the south. The lawless among your own people shall lift themselves up in order to fulfill the vision, but they shall fail."

I don't have ready access to a lot of modern commentaries, so I don't know how modern scholars interpret the passage, but what intrigues me is its reference to a "vision." What vision does Daniel 11:14 mean? I assume that it's referring to Daniel 11. There are some lawless people who are trying to bring to pass Daniel 11's prediction that the Seleucids will prevail over the Ptolemies.

The way that liberal scholars approach Daniel is that they date it to the second century B.C.E. For them, Daniel 11 accurately describes historical events concerning the Seleucids, the Ptolemies, and Antiochus IV Epiphanes, until vv 40-45, that is. V 45 says that Antiochus will die between the seas and the beautiful holy mountain, which many interpret as Zion. That did not occur, for Antiochus died in Persia. Liberal scholars conclude that Daniel was written in the second century B.C.E., but before the death of Antiochus.

But Daniel is set in the sixth century B.C.E., for the character Daniel lives under Nebuchadnezzar, Belshazzar, and Darius. So do liberals assert that Daniel was written in the second century B.C.E., yet was presented as an older vision? "You can take comfort in the midst of your persecution," the alleged second century author of Daniel was saying. "This was predicted a long time ago, and if some of the stuff has come to pass, then you can rest assured that all of it will be fulfilled. And the vision predicts that God will overthrow Antiochus and set up his own kingdom. So take heart and wait!" Liberals may see Daniel as a pious fraud, who was portraying events that just happened as "predictions."

But my problem is this: Daniel 11:14 says that people are trying to establish a vision, which I presume to be Daniel 11. Yet, there are historical events that are narrated after Daniel 11:14--it is only when we reach v 40 that we begin to see things that did not take place. So what were the lawless people trying to establish? Daniel 11:1-14? They couldn't establish events that were happening after they had tried to establish the vision. So was the vision coming out in installments?

If "Daniel" were a recognizable figure of the second century B.C.E., then that would make sense. Others would then say, "Well, this guy has predicted things that have come to pass so far. Let's go back to him to see what will happen next." But Daniel is presented as a book from the sixth century B.C.E., not as a work in progress. It is something that is intended to be seen as old, and therefore complete. Thus, the people seeking to establish the vision must have all of Daniel 11 in front of them, unless someone keeps finding long lost sections. But how can they have all of Daniel 11 in front of them, if not all of Daniel 11 has happened yet, and the author of Daniel is a second century figure who is simply narrating what is going on around him? Is my confusion making any sense?

Perhaps one way out of my dilemma is to say that the lawless ones were not deliberately trying to establish the vision. Rather, they wanted to bring about the events that the vision predicted, though they were unaware of the vision itself. They desired Seleucid triumph, and that happened to coincide with what was in the vision. I'm not sure if I'm completely satisfied with that solution, but it is a possibility.

Daniel and the Times of the Gentiles

For my daily quiet time, I am going through the Book of Daniel. I am aware of the standard historical-critical approach that applies the book to Antiochus Epiphanes and the Maccabean revolt (second century B.C.E.). I can understand why scholars arrive at that conclusion, since even conservatives relate huge parts of Daniel 8 and 11 to these events. How could you not? The chapters explicitly mention a mad dictator arising out of the Greek empire.

Conservatives diverge from the standard historical-critical approach, however, in their approach to other parts of Daniel. Unlike more liberal scholars, most conservatives see the fourth kingdom of Daniel 2 and 7 as Rome, not the Greek empire (E.W. Bullinger has a unique interpretation of Daniel 7, but I'll save that for another day). In his book Daniel, Dr. Desmond Ford, a former Seventh-Day Adventist, argues that the dreadful fourth kingdom could not be the Greek empire, since Antiochus Epiphanes was not as powerful as Rome even in the times of the Maccabees. Unlike many liberal scholars, Ford also doesn't read the stories in Daniel 1, 3, 4, 5, and 6 in light of the Antiochan persecution, since these chapters do not portray Nebuchadnezzar and Darius as inflexible, wild-eyed fanatics intent on persecuting God's people (as Antiochus IV was). The way the Book of Daniel tells the story, these Gentile leaders are often misled (by themselves or others), and they ultimately repent after God confronts them.

In their treatment of Daniel 11, many conservatives apply part of the chapter to the Ptolemies and the Seleucids, and part to the Antichrist of the end times. Liberals argue, by contrast, that the Book of Daniel views the time of Antiochus as the actual end times. For them, pious Jews expected God in the second century B.C.E. to supernaturally overthrow Antiochus and set up a divine kingdom, which would never be destroyed. So, for liberals, the Book of Daniel contains expectations that were never fulfilled. Conservatives try to preserve the book's divine authority by arguing that it doesn't relate only to Antiochus. For example, in his commentary on the Bible, evangelical pastor John MacArthur places a lot of emphasis on Daniel 11:35. He interprets the verse to mean that God's people will be persecuted between the time of Antiochus up to the time of the end (which, for MacArthur, is yet to come).

Why would the Book of Daniel spend so much time on Antiochus, if Antiochus were not its main subject? Although I understand the liberal reading, I want to play with a proposal that rests on more conservative presuppositions. It's not necessarily original, but it is the fruit of my struggle with the text. Maybe Daniel as a whole is about the times of the Gentiles, which refers to Gentile dominion over the entire earth, particularly the Jews and the land of Palestine. For God, the Gentiles who rule Judah have clear deficiencies. Nebuchadnezzar was arrogant, Belshazzar was an irreverent drunk, Darius was easily misled (and lived in a nation that regarded his decrees as irrevocable, and perhaps divine), and Antiochus was a fanatic. For Daniel, maybe the Antichrist would be another example of a bad Gentile ruler. By overthrowing him, God not only ends the rule of the Antichrist, but he also terminates Gentile rule in general. Under this interpretation, Daniel is not only about Antiochus, but it concerns the overall history of ungodly Gentile rule, starting with Nebuchadnezzar.