Daniel In Babylon

Part 6. A King’s Madness

King Nebuchadnezzar was now at the zenith of his glory. The "head of gold" had become the conqueror of the nations. He had seen three successive Pharaohs of Egypt, the rival nation, pass into death—two of them struck down by his own hand. Pharaoh‑Necho died at the time of Jerusalem’s downfall in Zedekiah’s day. His successor, Psamatik II (not mentioned by name in the Bible) was slain when the Babylonians invaded Egypt in Nebuchadnezzar’s twenty‑third year (Jer.52:30 and 43:1‑13). Pharaoh‑Hophra (Apries father of Amasis II) had just perished, also at the hands of the victorious king, and his successor, Amasis (II), held the throne of the Pharaohs only as a tributary to Babylon. Egypt had become, as Ezekiel said it would become (Ezek.29:14) a "base kingdom"—and in actual fact it never regained its former greatness. The proud city of Tyre, after a siege of thirteen years, had been forced to capitulate. The Assyrians were no more, and their mighty city of Nineveh was a mass of broken‑down ruins. The Ten Tribes were scattered in the wilds of Armenia, spreading slowly outwards, and the remnants of Judah dwelt to the south of Babylon. The Holy Land lay a desolate waste.

For seven or eight years now the great king, having measurably pacified his widely spread empire, had been devoting himself to the erection and adornment of the wonderful buildings for which both he and the city became famous. Temples and palaces, roads and canals, parks and gardens, all grew quickly under the inspiration of his fiery enthusiasm. It is to be feared that the cost in terms of human suffering was great, for all these huge works were executed by hordes of labourers little better than slaves. Every street corner and public square boasted statues and sculptures executed in stone or bronze; the temples and public buildings were adorned with richly painted representations of historic events in Babylonian history and mythology; the libraries were replete with books dealing with every conceivable subject—inscribed clay tablets which have proved to be the most imperishable of all written records. The king’s own passion for recording all his actions and his feelings toward his gods, taken together with the vivid intimate pictures given us by Daniel, make Nebuchadnezzar better known to us than any other king of antiquity.

Picture him now, a little above sixty years of age, in his own domestic circle, with the Median wife whom the historian says he dearly loved, and their family. Avil‑Marduk (Amel‑Marduk) (who succeeded him as king—the Evil‑Merodach of Jer.52:31), Nitocris, the mother of Belshazzar (Dan.5:10) and another daughter whose name is not recorded. Daniel on his frequent visits to the great palace beside the river must have often talked with the queen and her children, and as he talked he would notice with growing apprehension the changing disposition of the king—feverish exultation and pride in his achievements, forgetfulness of the great miracles wrought by the God of Heaven Whom he had once been so ready to acknowledge, his increasing devotion to the service of Bel, the deity of Babylon. The incident of the fiery furnace was some ten years in the past; the dream of the great image more than thirty years; and the visible evidence of his work, crowned by the mighty temple which his own enthusiasm had done so much to complete, was steadily driving the nobler impulses from his mind. Daniel knew what the inevitable end must be, and without doubt he talked to his sovereign upon many occasions with warnings of the inevitable fall that follows great pride.

Megalomania, they call it nowadays. In Nebuchadnezzar’s case the disordered condition of his mind brought on a fearful malady of the brain in which he imagined himself to be a wild beast. Yet the blow did not fall until in the providence of God a marked opportunity for repentance was given.

It must have been in the very year that his last enemy, Pharoah‑Hophra of Egypt, had been overthrown and slain, that the strange and terrible dream came to the king. The account is to be found in Daniel 4. It is related by the king himself, and bears every mark of having been written under the king’s direction in recognition of the lesson he had been taught. He was at rest in his house, and flourishing in his palace—a fitting description of his cessation from active warfare and devotion to the adornment of his city. He saw in his dream a great tree, the greatest that the earth had ever seen, and it gave shelter to all the birds and beasts of the earth. There came a "watcher" down from heaven. In Babylonian mythology there were seven "watchers" who were the messengers of the gods, corresponding somewhat to the seven archangels of Jewish traditional thought. The watcher decreed the cutting down of the tree and the scattering of its fruit, and the binding of the forlorn stump with a covering of bronze, fixed with iron clamping rings, to protect it from further damage, until seven times should pass over it, and the living should know that the Most High ruleth in the kingdom of men, and giveth it to whomsoever He will.

In the days of Babylon dreams were considered to have great significance, and it would be a comparatively frequent occurrence for the interpreters to be called before the king to explain the visions he had seen during the previous night. Once the dream was related, an explanation could easily be given in such words that, whatever the outcome, the interpreters would be tolerably sure to preserve their reputation. It is therefore a little surprising to find that in this instance the wise men declined to interpret the dream. A possible reason for this refusal is hinted at in verse 7 of chapter 4, which contains a significant statement by the king. He says, not that they could not, but that they did not, make known to him the interpretation. It is true that in verse 18, when repeating the matter to Daniel, he says that they were not able to make it known, but the impression one has is that this very shrewd judge of men had formed the opinion that the interpreters could have hazarded an interpretation if they wanted to but abstained from doing so for reasons of their own and pleaded ignorance as an excuse.

Nebuchadnezzar was probably right in his surmise. The change in his disposition was becoming manifest and others beside Daniel would be perceiving the impending disaster. Daniel was still chief of the wise men; it might well be that these officials, shirking the duty themselves, left it to their chief to tell the king the truth.

So in the ordinary way, his subordinates having retired, Daniel came in before the king to hear the dream. One can sense the king’s relief of mind, in verses 8 and 9, confident that Daniel could and would give him the truth of the matter. The king’s own religious views were still warm towards the gods of Babylon and he still credited Daniel with possessing the "spirit of the holy gods." Daniel, when he heard the details of the dream, was silent and dejected for a long time. It could not have been that he had not foreseen this; he must have known the meaning of the dream as soon it was related; what oppressed Daniel was his realisation that the blow had fallen. The decree had gone forth, and all the glory of a man whom he respected and admired was to be humbled to the dust.

It is in the 19th verse that we have evidence of something almost approaching affection in Nebuchadnezzar’s feeling for Daniel. Observing his faithful Minister’s distress, he exclaimed "Belteshazzar, let not the dream, or the interpretation thereof, trouble thee." He was prepared to forego the explanation in order to save his friend distress of mind. This is a very different aspect of the man from that displayed when as a ruthless autocrat he ordered three men to be cast into the burning fiery furnace, and signed an order for the execution of the wise men of Babylon on a momentary impulse. Even in the midst of that haughtiness and pride which was rapidly driving him to madness, this proud monarch cherished feelings of respect and concern for Daniel. How profound must the influence have been which the latter’s integrity and loyalty had exerted upon the heart of this pagan king through the years!

The words gave Daniel his opening. Gently, but firmly, he told the king the import of the dream, and added his own earnest counsel "Wherefore, O king, let my counsel (reason) be acceptable unto thee, and break off thy sins by righteousness, and thine iniquities by shewing mercy to the poor; if it may be a lengthening of thy tranquillity." (Dan.4:27) Perhaps he had in mind the story of Nineveh of nearly three centuries before, how that they repented at the preaching of the prophet Jonah, and how God repented of the evil which He thought to do, and did it not. Long and earnestly must Daniel have pleaded with the great man, recalling those days in his early life when he had acknowledged the power of the God of heaven, and seen His hand outstretched to save Shadrach, Meshach and Abed‑nego from the fiery furnace. Daniel would have recalled the king’s dream of the great image, and reminded him how that dream had been fulfilled in his rapid conquest of the then known world. But it was all quite evidently of no avail; the sequel shows us that the king remained unrepentant. And so the blow fell.

"All this came upon the king Nebuchadnezzar. At the end of twelve months he was walking upon (see margin) the (great) palace." (vv.28‑29) It would seem from the use of that word "upon" that this scene took place in the park which has become known as the "Hanging Gardens of Babylon," one of the Seven Wonders of the ancient world. Because Nebuchadnezzar’s queen missed the forests and mountains of her native Media, the king had caused to be built within the palace precincts a miniature stretch of wooded hills. Three successive tiers of brick arches, built like three great viaducts piled one on top of another, were erected and covered with earth, so disposed as to make hills and valleys. Upon this foundation the park was laid out, with grass, shrubs and trees, pathways and terraces, and artificial streams which were supplied from the River Euphrates far below by means of some kind of water‑raising device. Reared up high above the roof of the palace, commanding a magnificent view of the city, this park with its tree‑clad hills appeared from a distance to be suspended between heaven and earth, from which fact it has become known as the "Hanging Gardens." There was no more likely place than this in which the king might be walking when the dread calamity came upon him.

And as he walked, he spake, saying "Is not this great Babylon, that I have built for the house of the kingdom by the might of my power, and for the honour of my majesty?" (v.30).

The words were spoken, and they could not be recalled. Retribution, swift and sure, came out from the outraged holiness of God. "While the word was in the king’s mouth, there fell a voice from heaven, saying, O king Nebuchadnezzar, to thee it is spoken; The kingdom is departed from thee<.The same hour was the thing fulfilled upon Nebuchadnezzar: and he was driven from men, and did eat grass as oxen, and his body was wet with the dew of heaven, till his hairs were grown like eagles’ feathers, and his nails like birds’ claws." (vv.31,33)

Vivid, life‑like words—the testimony of an eyewitness! Who wrote them? Who walked with that magnificent man in those beautiful gardens, looked down with him upon the glorious buildings stretching far below for miles towards the horizon, followed with the eye the silver ribbon of the river as it entered the city precincts, skirted the palace, passed through the dock basin with its ships from Arabia and India, and beyond the massive ramparts to lose itself in the distant fields? Who gazed with hint upon the scintillating golden sanctuary at the summit of the great Tower, set like another sun against the blue heavens, six hundred feet above the city: and then, horror‑stricken, saw the light suddenly go out of those piercing eyes, the fine, intelligent face reshape its lineaments to the form of an idiot, the upstanding figure drop down upon hands and knees, the commanding voice at which kings and warriors had trembled begin to utter strange sounds, grotesquely imitating the beasts of the forest? Who was it sought in vain to restrain those strong hands as they tore the princely raiment to shreds and began grubbing at the roots and herbs of the soil; and then, failing, ran in frantic haste to summon assistance?

It might have been Daniel. It might have been Queen Amytis. There is a familiarity about the usage of the king’s name in verse 33 which seems more fitting coming from the queen than from Daniel. It might well be that this most interesting document enshrines the testimony of three people, and that verses 28 to 33 are from the hand of the Babylonian queen.

In any case Daniel would be very quickly on the spot. There was very little that could be done. The physicians would doubtless be trying their cures and the magicians busy attempting to exorcise the demon that had taken possession of the king’s person. The sorcerers would be feverishly uttering and muttering their incantations to the same end. Daniel would not interfere. The king’s family and his ministers would expect the customary treatment to be given. All was of no avail. Finally the soothsayers would come forward and pronounce the verdict of the omens they had examined; and probably, being wise after the event, would hazard the opinion that the gods had afflicted the king in consequence of some great offence, perhaps insufficient attention to the service of the gods, or even—if Daniel happened to be out of earshot—in displeasure at the king’s interest in a foreign god and a foreign Chief Minister. It is hardly likely that the native priesthood would let slip such a golden opportunity of impressing upon the king’s family the significance of this act of the great god Bel!

Nebuchadnezzar continued in this state for seven years. It is true that secular historians do not make any reference to this happening. Berosus, the Babylonian historian who was a priest in the Temple of Bel at Babylon some two and a half centuries later, and who had access to all the records when writing his history, does refer vaguely to some strange mystery connected with the end of Nebuchadnezzar’s life. One or two other cryptic allusions are met with in the words of other writers, but nothing that can reasonably be said to confirm the Bible account. Nor is this surprising. Nebuchadnezzar was himself a member of the secret caste, the Chaldeans. The whole episode, if generally known, was likely to bring the fraternity into disrepute. Even although the priests may have exploited it within the king’s family circle to warn the youthful Avil‑Marduk against his father’s predilection for the Hebrew’s God, they would be anxious to suppress the general circulation of the story, and since the historical records of the nation were in the charge of the priests, it is tolerably certain that they took good care to keep private anything of a derogatory nature.

The story as we have it in Daniel 4 bears all the evidence of truth. There is the king’s own account of the dream which predicted the disaster, vv.1‑18, to which is added the testimony of his Minister as to their subsequent conversation. Next to this comes the account of the actual happenings, by an eyewitness (28‑33) probably Queen Amytis, and finally the king’s own acknowledgement of the justice of the infliction and of the omnipotence of God. (34‑37). It is highly probable that we have here an official document, prepared by the king after his recovery, and intended to place on record for all time his consciousness of his great sin and the mercy of God.

So far as history goes, the last eight or nine years of this king’s life are blank. There is nothing recorded concerning him. It would seem that he did not live long after his recovery, probably no more than a year. During his affliction he would be well guarded from harm—in all probability those same Hanging Gardens which he had built in the day of his pride became the place of his wanderings. There he could roam at will, dwelling with the animals and birds with which it had been stocked, drinking at its streams, sleeping at night in its arbours or on its grassy slopes, free to indulge his disordered fancy but in no danger from wild beast or human enemy. And then, one morning, as the rays of the rising sun lightened the sky and the birds gave their voice in chorus, that unkempt figure crawled forth from its lair with eyes a little less wild; perhaps with face turned up to heaven in mute entreaty; and in a little while "I Nebuchadnezzar lifted up mine eyes unto heaven, and mine understanding returned unto me, and I blessed the Most High, and I praised and honoured Him that liveth for ever." (v.34) "At the same time my reason returned unto me; and for the glory of my kingdom, mine honour and brightness returned unto me; and my counsellors and my lords sought unto me; and I was established in my kingdom, and excellent majesty was added unto me." (v.36)

So long as the king lived, even although idiotic, no move could be made to replace him. The queen probably governed as regent, with the aid of Daniel as Chief Minister. Berosus plainly states that in fact she did do so, assisted by her counsellors. The affliction was looked upon as from the gods and their will must not be interfered with. The kingdom must needs wait, either for the king’s recovery or his death. Upon the return of his reason, therefore, he was quickly re‑established in his accustomed place, restored to the circle of his family, presiding once again over affairs of state, wielding once more the majestic power of the "head of gold."

But this time there was a difference. The last verse of chapter 4 shows us an utterly humbled and chastened man. The words are majestic and striking. "Now I Nebuchadnezzar praise and extol and honour the King of heaven, all whose works are truth, and his ways judgment: and those that walk in pride he is able to abase." (v.37)

They are his last recorded words. The Scriptures tell us no more about King Nebuchadnezzar. They leave him where we would fain have him left, in humble submission to the One eternal God, a better man for the experience was this conversion a lasting one? We do not know. It is worthy of note, however, that these words of his are not only the last the Scripture records; they are also the last words of his in any records so far discovered. The extensive and voluminous inscriptions written by the king or at his instigation concerning himself and his works stop short about ten years or so before his death. At that time he is still a devoted adherent of gods of Babylon and a faithful servant of Bel. But this word in Daniel 4, coming from the pen of the king himself, is by ten years the latest personal testimony history can offer. In the absence of any evidence to the contrary we may perhaps be justified in concluding that at the very end of his life Nebuchadnezzar came to see something of the glory of the One true God, the emptiness and vanity of the idols of Babylon, closing an eventful life with more of true peace than perhaps he had ever known.

(To be continued)
AOH