TRIAL AND TRIUMPH
Dr. W. A. Criswell
Daniel 6:24-28
05-23-71
You’re sharing the services of the First
Baptist Church in Dallas. This is the
pastor bringing the message entitled: Daniel, A Type Of God’s People. This will be the last message delivered from
the book of Daniel for a long time. I
felt, as I came to the end of the sixth chapter, that I wanted to deliver one
more message on the life of this prophet statesman.
When we come to the conclusion of
chapter six, we enter into altogether different substance and matter when we
start with chapter seven. The book of
Daniel is divided exactly in the middle—just as is the book of the
Revelation. Chapters 1 through 11 in
the Revelation are one thing. Chapters
12 through 22 of the Revelation are something else. The apocalypse is divided exactly in the middle. The book of Daniel is also. Chapters one through six are one thing. Chapters 7 through 12 are another
thing. Chapters one through six are
narrative and biographical. Chapters 7
through 12 contain the vision and the dreams of the prophet and their
interpretation.
So before we leave the narrative
biographical section of the book, I wanted to deliver this one more sermon on
the life of this great prophet statesman.
And they will be published this fall.
I am working day and night on the sermons that have been delivered. And this coming week, the manuscript will be
mailed to the Zondervan Publishing Company.
And this fall, the third volume, the volume of sermons that I am
preaching now, will be published and sent to us.
I shall read as a text the last verses
of chapter six:
Then King Darius wrote unto all people,
nations, and languages that dwell in all the earth; Peace be multiplied unto
you (Shalom).
I make a decree, That in every dominion
of my kingdom men tremble and fear before the God of Daniel: for he is the
living God, and steadfast forever, and his kingdom that which shall not be
destroyed, and his dominion shall be even unto the end.
He delivereth and rescueth, and he
worketh signs and wonders in heaven and in earth, who hath delivered Daniel
from the power of the lions. (Then the concluding sentence.)
So this Daniel prospered in the reign of
Darius and in the reign of Cyrus the Persian.
We shall follow this morning the life of
this prophet of God as it becomes an example and an encouragement to us. For in the tenth chapter of the 1 Corinthian
letter, the eleventh verse, Paul writes: “Now, all these things happened unto
them for examples: and they are written for our admonition, upon whom the ends
of the world are come.”
If therefore, I receive the word of
the Lord, I am taught to believe that what happened to Daniel is an example for
our benefit, and our blessing, and our encouragement. Therefore, the experiences of this prophet are an example for us
who pilgrimage through the wilderness of this world. We shall speak therefore first of the trial and the triumph of
Daniel.
First, his trial—and there are three of
them: The trial of the flesh in chapter one; the trial of the mind and of the
intellect in chapter two; and third, the trial of the soul, of the spirit, in
chapter six.
The trial of the flesh in chapter
one: Daniel was a captive. He was a trophy of war. He was a slave, uprooted out of his country
and deported to a strange and foreign land.
He was a servant in the court of the king of Babylon. But he also was in a most unusually
salubrious and solicitous place. He had
every opportunity for advancement and preferment. Chosen as one of the seed of the royalty in Judea, handsome and
brilliant, even as a teenager, the king chose him to be taught, to be trained,
in all of the wisdom of the Chaldeans.
He was to be presented, after that university course, as one of the
magi, in the counselors of the king.
How many uncounted thousands there were in the city of Babylon, and in
the great Babylonian empire, who were not so felicitously—he sat at the king’s
table. He ate the king’s meat and he
drank the king’s liquor—(That is, he was supposed to)—It was prepared for him.
He was unusually placed: And there in came the fierce and awesome
temptation to the boy. For, the
temptation, the trial, lay in being congenial, in being hospitable, if being
appreciative and in being gracious; for he is selected among thousands and
thousands for elevation in the king’s captives. And thus, to receive with appreciation and gratitude, the largess
and generosity of the king was something that would but reflect generous, and
appreciative, and noble tones.
Remember also he’s a teenager. He’s a youth. And he’s away from home; away from his parents; away from his
country; away from his people. And
there, alone in a strange land, he has every opportunity for advancement and
preferment, being thus wise in his graciousness and gratitude. Who would wish to insult the host so noble
as the golden king of golden Babylon?
And being a slave and a captive of battle, who would be but thoughtful
and appreciative of the marvelous open door that the reigning monarch, himself,
had set before him?
And so the trial that came to Daniel, to
eat the king’s meat which had been sacrificed to idols and which he was taught
was an affront to God; and to drink the king’s liquors which he had been taught
brought woe and redness of eyes; that it stings like a serpent and bites like
an adder. What should the young man
do? Should he not be gracious to his
host when that host is the king himself?
And when the master of the court says: “You endanger my very head if you
do not be thus gracious and responsive.”
Isn’t that a trial and a decision for the young man to make! And he’s alone. And he’s responsible to God and he makes that decision.
We have an altogether different attitude
today, taught by these pseudo-scientists who say that the youth today are not
responsible for the decisions they make.
They murder, they rape, they riot, they pillage, they burn, they
destroy, they rob, they kill—but the sociologist say they are not
responsible. They are but the product
of their environment, and their circumstances, and their friends. And the decisions that they make, and the
choice of life they live is not accountable to them; it is accountable to
something or somebody else.
That is a lie of the first order. God’s Book says that every man is morally
sensitive and morally accountable unto God.
And whether that man be in the heart of Africa (where I preached and the
missionary was our guest this morning) or whether in a Stone Age Indian tribe
in the Amazon (where I preached), or to the ends of the earth, there are no
people, there are no families, there are no nations, but who are sensitive to
morality, right and wrong. And there is
no teenager and no youth, who lives, but that when he makes the decision, he
knows that he makes it. And he
is accountable to God, no matter what his environment, or what his
circumstances, or who are his friends.
And this Daniel is a youth and he’s by
himself. He’s been deported and
captured and he’s a slave. And he
stands before the king. And he makes a
decision for his life.
You know, that’s a strange thing how God
has made this life. It is made up of
decisions and nothing else. That’s what
it is. And that’s how God made us. The Lord made us free. We are spiritually and morally free. They can put my body in prison, incarcerate
this physical frame behind stone walls and iron bars, but my spirit is
free. No man can coerce my soul. Made in the image of God, I am free.
And those decisions that I make in my
soul, make me. Look at this poem:
When in the dim beginning of the years,
God mixed in man the rapture and the
tears,
And scattered through his brain the
starry stuff.
God said: “Behold, yet this is not
enough.
For I must test his spirit and make sure
He can dare the vision and then endure.
I will leave man to make the fateful guess.
Will leave him torn between the “no” and
the “yes.”
Leave him unresting till he rest in Me,
Drawn upward by the choice that makes
him free.
Leave him in tragic loneliness to choose
With all in life to win or all in life
to lose.”
That is the way God made us. And the life is nothing but a reflection,
and a repercussion, and a reproduction of those decisions and choices that we
make. That freedom to answer before
God—If I make choices that are wrong, and yield in trial and temptation, my
life turns downward, and downward, and downward, and weaker and weaker and
weaker. But if I make those choices in
God, my life tends upward and upward and upward, and Godward; and I am stronger
and stronger and stronger.
There are so many who trade their lives
for a mess of pottage. They exchange
their day for preferment and advancement.
Would do anything in order to climb, to succeed, to get up, to get on,
to get out, to get above—anything! But
there are others who, under God, had rather die than to compromise God’s call
and God’s will in their lives.
John Bunyan, our great Baptist preacher
of the 1600s in England, languished in Bedford jails for twelve years—twelve
years! And any day of the twelve years,
he could have been given his freedom, had he acquiesced in one simple
sentence. Had Bunyan said: “I will not
preach the gospel,” the doors would have been opened. But he languished there twelve years in the jail in Bedford. And when he was accosted with a proposition,
to not preach and have his freedom, or to preach and be incarcerated, he
replied: “I had rather stay in this jail until the moss grows over my eyelids
rather than to promise that I will not preach the gospel of the grace of the
son of God!”
The trial of the flesh—second, the trial
of the mind, of the intellect: This is
the second chapter of the book of Daniel:
The dilemma of the dream was very succinctly said. It was most distinctly and lucidly
presented: “You either tell me the answer or you die.” I think anybody could understand that; that
would be most plain. “You tell me this
dream and what it means or you will be liquidated. It’s that simple. Now
tell me.”
He calls in the magi; he called in the
astrologers; he called in the sorcerers; he called in the wise men—that’s what
they were paid to do—to answer. That’s
why they were trained for the king’s cabinet—to tell him. They said: “We are wise. We know.
Ask us.” They were professional
“knowers,” they were real Gnostics before the time.
So they come before the king and the
king says: “Answer or die.”
And they answered and they said:
O king, there’s not a man upon the earth
that can answer, that can show the king’s matter: nor is there a king, or ruler
in the earth that ever asked any such thing of any magician, or magi, or
astrologer, or Chaldean.
And it’s a rare thing that the king
requireth, and there is none other in this earth that could answer but
God.
Well, that part of it they had since enough to
recognize: “We don’t know. And we can’t
answer and there’s nobody that knows or could answer but the gods. And their dwelling is not with men who are
made out of flesh.”
We have the “know-it-alls” today. They are the magi of this modern era. They are our pseudo-intellectuals: “We’ve got all of the answers,” they
say. “And we teach as men of great
learning and distinction in our universities and in our colleges of the
land. We are the magi of the modern
world and we know, we can answer. Why,
we know that the Bible is fictitious.
It’s nothing but legends and myths.
We know there is no such thing as God.
We know that these testimonies and revelations, so-called, of the great
God in heaven are nothing but superstitions of people who lived back in dark
ignorance. But today, we are
enlightened. We are the magi of this
modern world. Ask us!”
Wonderful! Nothing would please me more than to ask. For there are great basic questions that my
soul cries to know and I’m like all humanity—god answer: Where did we come from? And where are we going to? And is there any purpose and meaning in
life? Tell me, for the sake of my
soul!
And the magi and the pseudo “know-its”
of this day say: “We don’t know. We have no idea where we came from. And we have no idea where we are going
to. And we have no idea of any purpose
or meaning in life.”
And that’s why the modern world is
plunged into despair: There is not any meaning, and there is not any purpose,
and there is not any God. And we don’t
know where we came from, and we don’t know where we are going to, and we don’t
know anything. And yet, they say: “We
know it all. You cannot know anything
in yourself. You cannot. All that a man can do is observe, that’s
all. He can see the planets swing; but
that’s all. He can see the flower grow;
but that’s all. He can see meiotic
processes and he can follow mitosis; but he can’t explain it. He can never explain it. The man in himself cannot know. All we’re able to do is just observe; but we
can’t give the reason why. Nor can we
offer any purpose or any reason, or any goals.”
Are we therefore shut up to the
blackness of despair? Are we therefore
plunged into the abyss of godlessness?
Just like pawns, like ships on the face of a moving river, just like atoms
that are fortuitously concoursed and then break up. Is there any meaning? Is
there any purpose in life?
Daniel said: “O King, there is a God in
heaven that revealeth secrets.”
God knows! And after Daniel had laid the answer before him, from answered
prayer, the king answered unto Daniel: “Of a truth it is that your God is a God
of Gods, and a Lord of Lords and a revealer of secrets.”
How does a man know? We know by the self-disclosure and
self-revelation of God. We have a sixth
sense. We have an intuitive response. There is something on the inside of a man
that can see with eyes of the heart; can even endure us seeing Him who is
invisible. There is something about a
man that is more than just the anatomical convocation of all of these organs,
and pieces, and parcels, and atoms that make him. There is something in him of God that can respond, and see, and
understand, and know, and comprehend.
There’s a spiritual part to a man that can be quickened, and
enlightened, and taught; just like his mind can be taught. And he can understand; just like his hand
can be taught and trained, and it can respond.
So a man’s soul, in God, can be quickened and it can respond. He can see.
He can understand. He’s a child
of the great king. He becomes a man of
faith, and wisdom, and understanding.
I’m not preaching something strange this
morning; as though I had concocted it out of my theological chair. Listen to the apostle Paul writing to the
Corinthians of this world and the wisdom of God, he said:
The foolishness of God is wiser than
men; and the weakness of God is stronger than men…
God hath chosen the foolish things of
this world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of this
world to confound those that are mighty;
And things of this world and things
which are despised, if God hath chosen, even things that don’t even exist,
forward to bring to naught things that are:
That no flesh should glory before God in
his presence.
It is all of the Lord, if I am to know. As Paul writes in the second chapter of that
[1] Corinthian letter: “For the natural
man receiveth not the things of this the Spirit of God: for they are
foolishness unto him (They are idiocy to him).”
Just like Edward Gibbon that I’m
reading now: The Fall and Decline of the Roman Empire. I had a dear man here in the church wanted
to give me a book. Well, I imagine that
he thought that I might chose some $2.50 or $2.95 book that he can get down
here in the store. I told him I wanted
the volumes of Edward Gibbon, The Fall and the Decline of the Roman Empire. God bless him. And he was generous enough to buy it for me. Edward Gibbon—one of the most capable and
able literary figures of the age of King George III, of the generation of
George Washington here in America—a tremendous intellect: But he had no idea or
any conception of what he called the fanaticism of those first Christians. Could not understand it!
I can understand it. I can understand how those first Christians,
in calm and in dignity and in quiet self-assurance, were fed to the lions or
burned at the stake. I can understand
that:
Enduring as seeing Him who is
invisible. For they looked for a city
whose builder and maker is God.
Wherefore, God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he hath
prepared for them that city…
For the natural man receiveth not the
things of the Spirit of God.
They
are idiocy unto him; they are foolishness unto him. Neither can he even know them as brilliant as an Edward Gibbon
is, because they are spiritually discerned.
A man must be quickened in the heart, in
the soul, in the mind, in the intellect, in the understanding if he is to know
God. There is no knowledge of God apart
from a self-disclosure and a self-revelation of the Almighty. You can study, and study, and study forever;
and observe, and observe, and observe forever, but all you can ever see is just
the outward phenomenon of God’s handiwork.
You can never know Him, nor the divine will and purpose that lie back of
his majestic worth, unless you find Him in His self-disclosure and
self-revelation. I come to know God—His
name, what He’s like; why I am here; where I am going—I come to know God and
the meaning of the Lord only in the self-revelation in that Holy Book.
We must hasten. The first chapter, the trial of the flesh;
the second chapter, the trial of the mind, of the intellect; the third trial,
chapter six: The trial of the soul, of the spirit. In the ninth chapter of the book of Daniel, one time; and in the
tenth chapter, two times—making three—is it written: “Daniel was greatly
beloved.” They addressed him as “O
Daniel, greatly beloved.”
Heaven loved him—God did; the angels
did; the saints did—Heaven loved Daniel.
Would you not have thought that the earth would have loved him,
too? Yes, they’re never lived a purer
spirit. He’s like Joseph; he’s like
Jonathan; he’s like Jesus. You would
think all men would love Daniel. Here
is a man with astute wisdom in administering the affairs of the empire. Here is a man who is impeccable in character
and in life. Even his enemies could
impute no flaw or mistake in his character or his conduct. His administration was spotless. It was if a man had inquired in an oracle of
God.
That great benevolent generous hearted
prophet statesman, would you not have thought he would have commanded the
affirmation of the whole world.
No! For he is as detested and
despised, this Daniel, as he is pure and holy.
What an astonishing thing. The
first man who died was a martyr to his religious faith, Abel. And the last who die are martyrs in that
awesome tribulation at the great consummation of the age.
This Daniel, well, how it came about was
a strange, strange thing. A decree was
signed—thirty days interdiction to call upon the name of any god. What an unusual and extraordinary
extravagance. Who could afford it? Yet the sun seared the land, they could not
pray for rain. If pestilence stalked
through the people, they could not appeal that the plague be stayed. If fire or enemy sought to destroy the
kingdom, no cry for help to heaven could be laid. Just as if a man were sick, he couldn’t call for the physician;
as if he were drowning, he couldn’t plea for help from the shore; as if a man
were a sinner and couldn’t ask for forgiveness. That was the decree.
Where did such a decree come from? The answer is very patent. It came from their idea of their gods. Man is always made in the image of his
god. Yesterday, today, as long as we
live, we are what we worship. We are the image of our gods. And what kind of gods? These enemies of Daniel had gods that they
used and manipulated. Thirty days, they
said in this instance, thirty days and all of those gods, Baal-Merodach,
Ishtar, Nebo Nefanitim, all of these gods must, with patience, wait upon
us. We have decreed and we have
decided—thirty days, ninety days, one hundred twenty days, three years, ten
years, a lifetime—we have decided. And
God wait upon us!
Using God, manipulating God! No wonder the soul of Daniel felt an innate
abhorrence. As though God could be used
or dictated to or manipulated—the great God of all of the earth and the heavens
and the eternities, the great mighty unapproachable sovereign of the
creation—to use Him and manipulate Him, a worm, a piece of dust. “Why, in His sight,” Daniel said, “the
nations are but as a drop in the bucket, as a fine inconsequential dust in the
balance.”
And they proposed to decree, to
manipulate and to say: “Wait with patience until we have decided when and where
and what.”
What is a man’s place before the great
high God? Down on his knees! Down on his face! It’s in confession, subjection, submission: “Lord, thou art God and I, but dust and
ashes. Lord, it is not my place to
dictate to Thee or decree. My place,
Lord, is to sit at Thy feet and learn God’s will for my life. The choice, Lord, is with Thee. Master, if the choice is difficult and hard,
then Lord, there must come with it strength for the way.”
God must help me. Does he answer? Does he? Why, now, I
speak of the triumph. All the resources
God’s man ever needs in a trial is his hands.
As near as an appeal and a prayer, and the man of prayer is ever
destined to triumph. And Daniel comes
forth. Ah, can you imagine that? The awe, almost ninety years of age if not
ninety, at the call of the king when the stone is rolled away and that
statesman prophet walks up out of the dungeon.
I can just see it! And the king
stands before him and the courtiers, and the captains, and the Chaldeans, and
the prince, and the throng stands around him, looking at him. What a testimony, and what a witness, and
what an encouragement to his people.
The king to all the peoples of the earth: “This is the decree that throughout my kingdom, men shall
reverence and tremble and fear before the God of Daniel.”
Look at that just a second: He didn’t use polysyllabic words to describe
the great Lord in heaven—such as “the Immutable” or “the Omniscient” or “the
Omnipresent,” but what he did say was: “The God of Daniel!” The only God the world ever sees in us. In us—our witness and our testimony before
the earth: “This God of Daniel.”
Well, as I said at the first service,
that is one-half of my sermon. The
other half, I just mentioned:
Daniel
is a type of Christ as though he were in the grave—in the den, in the dungeon,
in the sepulcher with the stone rolled over it and sealed with the king’s seal,
and came forth alive—A type of the triumph of Christ over the grave.
Daniel
is a type of the great consummation of the end time, a type of the deliverance
of God’s Jewish remnant through the great tribulation:
And
a type of God’s deliverance to those who believe on Christ through their
testimony at the consummation of the age, all in the Revelation:
And Daniel, last, is a type of God’s
judgment upon those who refuse the mercies of God. The enemies of Daniel were cast into the den and the lions ripped
them. God intends that some day this
world be delivered from iniquity, and injustice, and wrong, and violence, and
sin, and wickedness. Satan shall not
reign forever. No! Some day, God shall purge this world. God shall cast out Satan and cast out sin;
and when God casts out sin and Satan, there is cast out with him, death, and
sorrow, and suffering, and crying, and pain.
For these things are all passed away—that good thing God hath purposed
for those who love Him.
We’re going to sing in a moment. And while we sing our song of appeal, a
family you, a couple, or just you to give your heart to the Lord, would you
come and stand by me? In the balcony
round, you, on this lower floor, make the decision in your heart now. Do it now, right where you’re seated: “Lord,
I decide for thee and I’m coming.”
“I’m bringing my family, Pastor, my wife
and children, all of us are coming today:” You, a couple, just you and your
wife, or just you alone. Down one of
these stairways or into the aisle and here to the front: “I’m coming,
Pastor. I don’t have all the answers,
but He does. I don’t have strength for
the way, but He does. I don’t know of a
tomorrow, He does! And I’m trusting Him
for it. I’m coming.”
As the spirit shall press the appeal to
your heart, on the first note of the first stanza, come. When you stand up, stand up coming.