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Connected by scripture or shared themes.
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Connected by scripture or shared themes.
From a young age, we begin to have an awareness that our lives exist within wider events — the events of society, the events of our world. Looking back through a childhood diary recently, alongside memories of favourite animals and running times, there were also memories of world events. One entry read:
"On September the 11th, a man hijacked a plane and knocked it into the Twin Towers in America. Shocking, isn't it?"
Even as a child, there was a deep sadness and devastation at what had happened. Time after time, we hear of heartbreaking events in our world — suffering, ruin, abuse of power, wars and rumours of wars. Sadly, this is nothing new.
Daniel was taken from Jerusalem to a foreign land, living in Babylon and working for a pagan government. He heard a constant stream of news about conquest, defeat, and the suffering of God's people while Jerusalem lay in ruins. Yet Daniel knew who God was — he'd seen his friends survive the fiery furnace. God was good, faithful, in control. So the question remained: what is going on? Will they be ruled by Babylon forever? When will this stop?
We often ask similar questions when we watch the news today. Daniel 7 helps us make sense not only of the events of our world, but of where history is ultimately heading. God gives Daniel a dream — a vision of hope and perspective — showing that it is God who rules over time, space, and history, whatever present circumstances look like. It's a dream meant to settle fear with the reassurance that God will win.
Daniel's dream is a strange one — the kind of dream you might have after eating too much cheese. Four terrifying beasts rise from the sea, representing kings and kingdoms that rise and fall:
Scholars often identify these as Babylon, Medo-Persia, Greece, and Rome, but you don't need to be an expert to notice what they represent: human empires that are hungry, vicious, and domineering. This tells us something about our fallen human condition. When we remove God from the picture and set ourselves up as rulers, we become like beasts. History is full of examples of rule by brutality and cruelty — and it keeps happening.
But the dream also shows that the beasts do not rule forever, only for a time. Every kingdom and power structure that opposes God will eventually fall.
During lockdown in 2020, an early morning run turned into an unexpected chase — a fox emerged from a hedge and began following at pace. Without a phone, and with the fox drawing closer, panic set in until a piece of advice came to mind: make yourself as big as possible and shout. It worked — briefly — until a lorry finally passed and the fox fled to the other side of the road.
In that moment, what was needed was something bigger, something greater than the beast. This is exactly what we need when facing the "beasts" of our world — oppressive regimes, dehumanising systems, the abuse of power. We need something greater. And significantly, when the final beast in Daniel's vision is destroyed, it isn't replaced by an even fiercer beast.
"In my vision at night, I looked and there before me was one like a son of man." (Daniel 7:13)
In contrast to the beasts that roam and devour, a human one appears — but not just any human. This Son of Man is given all authority, glory, and sovereign power by the Ancient of Days.
"The beasts rule for a time, but the Son of Man rules for all time."
Earlier in the vision, we see the Ancient of Days seated on a fiery, moving throne — radiant, pure, wise, ruling over all history. The court is seated, the books are opened, and perfect justice is exercised. Then the Son of Man comes on the clouds — a symbol of divine authority — and is led into God's presence in a scene of ascending exaltation.
This Son of Man is Jesus, seated at the right hand of the Father. Whatever powers seem to be at play in our world, this is the true state of affairs: God reigns, always, now and forever. One day, everyone will know it and see it — as we sing, "let every knee bow, let every tongue confess." The days of every beast are numbered by the Ancient of Days.
Where earthly kingdoms oppress, violate, and exploit, Jesus says:
"I have come to proclaim good news to the poor... to proclaim freedom for the captives... to recover sight for the blind."
He is the King of kings, the Ruler of rulers, the Lord of lords. There is only one name that will remain throughout the ages — the name of Jesus Christ. His kingdom is everlasting, unlike the limited kingdoms of this world, and it will include every tribe, tongue, and nation worshipping him.
Jesus referred to himself as the "Son of Man" more than any other title in the Gospels — 81 times. He used it when speaking of forgiving sins, being Lord over the Sabbath, and predicting his death and resurrection. Strikingly, he used it again while on trial before the Sanhedrin:
"From now on, you will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of the mighty one and coming on the clouds of heaven." (Matthew 26:64)
Standing before the priests and elders who knew the Scriptures well, Jesus' words would have sent their minds straight to Daniel 7. Though it looked like the beasts had defeated him at the cross, it was actually his moment of greatest triumph — by his death, he defeated every beast and overcame all evil. He is now exalted to the highest place, and he will return just as he ascended, on the clouds, to judge the living and the dead.
What does this mean for how we live now?
Throughout the passage, Daniel repeatedly looked — at the beasts, at the Ancient of Days, at the Son of Man. This models how we can keep perspective by looking to see where God is, trusting that he holds all of history, and holds us.
A recent hospital visit to someone in bleak circumstances left a deep impression — despite dark and difficult circumstances, this person held onto real hope in Jesus, and was even sharing that hope with others on the ward. In every circumstance, we are called to be a people of hope, reminding one another that Christ will come again and that God is on the throne.
The early church often prayed maranatha — "come, Lord Jesus" — a prayer for his return. Perhaps the Western church has largely forgotten this prayer today. But Jesus will return, and all wrongs will be made right; everything dim in this life will be made clear.
Because God reigns, we can live distinctive and courageous lives, as Daniel did — even into the lion's den, because he refused to worship any god but the true, living God. When we know where God is positioned — high above all — we hold a right reverence and fear of him above every other power in this world.
Some may be struggling with fear of people, fear of pleasing others, or the pressures of the structures we live within. But we can have confidence that God reigns over all — making courageous decisions in workplaces, building cultures in our colleges that favour the disadvantaged, giving radically to those in need — because God is holding everything, including our lives.
When we live under the authority of Jesus as our king, we move away from being beasts and become more human — because Jesus, the Son of Man, is the truest human of all. As we submit our lives to him, we become more like him.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a pastor and theologian who opposed the Nazi regime, wrote in The Cost of Discipleship:
"They wander on earth and live in heaven. And although they are weak, they protect the world. They taste of peace in the midst of turmoil. They are poor and yet they have all they want. They stand in suffering and remain in joy. They appear dead to all outward sense and lead a life of faith within."
This is the distinct life Christians can live — shaped by the perspective that whatever our present circumstances look like, God is in control.
A colleague often ends difficult conversations about hard circumstances with a simple phrase: "The lamb wins." This is the truth Christians can hold on to — that God wins.
The beasts rule for a time, but the Son of Man rules for all time, and his kingdom will have no end. There will be a day when it is not the sound of beasts we hear, but the sound of trumpets as Christ returns — and all kings and kingdoms will bow their knee to him, the King of all kings. We will be gathered there on that day, worshipping Jesus in his name.
Amen.
From a young age, we begin to have an awareness that our lives exist within wider events — the events of society, the events of our world. Looking back through a childhood diary recently, alongside memories of favourite animals and running times, there were also memories of world events. One entry read:
"On September the 11th, a man hijacked a plane and knocked it into the Twin Towers in America. Shocking, isn't it?"
Even as a child, there was a deep sadness and devastation at what had happened. Time after time, we hear of heartbreaking events in our world — suffering, ruin, abuse of power, wars and rumours of wars. Sadly, this is nothing new.
Daniel was taken from Jerusalem to a foreign land, living in Babylon and working for a pagan government. He heard a constant stream of news about conquest, defeat, and the suffering of God's people while Jerusalem lay in ruins. Yet Daniel knew who God was — he'd seen his friends survive the fiery furnace. God was good, faithful, in control. So the question remained: what is going on? Will they be ruled by Babylon forever? When will this stop?
We often ask similar questions when we watch the news today. Daniel 7 helps us make sense not only of the events of our world, but of where history is ultimately heading. God gives Daniel a dream — a vision of hope and perspective — showing that it is God who rules over time, space, and history, whatever present circumstances look like. It's a dream meant to settle fear with the reassurance that God will win.
Daniel's dream is a strange one — the kind of dream you might have after eating too much cheese. Four terrifying beasts rise from the sea, representing kings and kingdoms that rise and fall:
Scholars often identify these as Babylon, Medo-Persia, Greece, and Rome, but you don't need to be an expert to notice what they represent: human empires that are hungry, vicious, and domineering. This tells us something about our fallen human condition. When we remove God from the picture and set ourselves up as rulers, we become like beasts. History is full of examples of rule by brutality and cruelty — and it keeps happening.
But the dream also shows that the beasts do not rule forever, only for a time. Every kingdom and power structure that opposes God will eventually fall.
During lockdown in 2020, an early morning run turned into an unexpected chase — a fox emerged from a hedge and began following at pace. Without a phone, and with the fox drawing closer, panic set in until a piece of advice came to mind: make yourself as big as possible and shout. It worked — briefly — until a lorry finally passed and the fox fled to the other side of the road.
In that moment, what was needed was something bigger, something greater than the beast. This is exactly what we need when facing the "beasts" of our world — oppressive regimes, dehumanising systems, the abuse of power. We need something greater. And significantly, when the final beast in Daniel's vision is destroyed, it isn't replaced by an even fiercer beast.
"In my vision at night, I looked and there before me was one like a son of man." (Daniel 7:13)
In contrast to the beasts that roam and devour, a human one appears — but not just any human. This Son of Man is given all authority, glory, and sovereign power by the Ancient of Days.
"The beasts rule for a time, but the Son of Man rules for all time."
Earlier in the vision, we see the Ancient of Days seated on a fiery, moving throne — radiant, pure, wise, ruling over all history. The court is seated, the books are opened, and perfect justice is exercised. Then the Son of Man comes on the clouds — a symbol of divine authority — and is led into God's presence in a scene of ascending exaltation.
This Son of Man is Jesus, seated at the right hand of the Father. Whatever powers seem to be at play in our world, this is the true state of affairs: God reigns, always, now and forever. One day, everyone will know it and see it — as we sing, "let every knee bow, let every tongue confess." The days of every beast are numbered by the Ancient of Days.
Where earthly kingdoms oppress, violate, and exploit, Jesus says:
"I have come to proclaim good news to the poor... to proclaim freedom for the captives... to recover sight for the blind."
He is the King of kings, the Ruler of rulers, the Lord of lords. There is only one name that will remain throughout the ages — the name of Jesus Christ. His kingdom is everlasting, unlike the limited kingdoms of this world, and it will include every tribe, tongue, and nation worshipping him.
Jesus referred to himself as the "Son of Man" more than any other title in the Gospels — 81 times. He used it when speaking of forgiving sins, being Lord over the Sabbath, and predicting his death and resurrection. Strikingly, he used it again while on trial before the Sanhedrin:
"From now on, you will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of the mighty one and coming on the clouds of heaven." (Matthew 26:64)
Standing before the priests and elders who knew the Scriptures well, Jesus' words would have sent their minds straight to Daniel 7. Though it looked like the beasts had defeated him at the cross, it was actually his moment of greatest triumph — by his death, he defeated every beast and overcame all evil. He is now exalted to the highest place, and he will return just as he ascended, on the clouds, to judge the living and the dead.
What does this mean for how we live now?
Throughout the passage, Daniel repeatedly looked — at the beasts, at the Ancient of Days, at the Son of Man. This models how we can keep perspective by looking to see where God is, trusting that he holds all of history, and holds us.
A recent hospital visit to someone in bleak circumstances left a deep impression — despite dark and difficult circumstances, this person held onto real hope in Jesus, and was even sharing that hope with others on the ward. In every circumstance, we are called to be a people of hope, reminding one another that Christ will come again and that God is on the throne.
The early church often prayed maranatha — "come, Lord Jesus" — a prayer for his return. Perhaps the Western church has largely forgotten this prayer today. But Jesus will return, and all wrongs will be made right; everything dim in this life will be made clear.
Because God reigns, we can live distinctive and courageous lives, as Daniel did — even into the lion's den, because he refused to worship any god but the true, living God. When we know where God is positioned — high above all — we hold a right reverence and fear of him above every other power in this world.
Some may be struggling with fear of people, fear of pleasing others, or the pressures of the structures we live within. But we can have confidence that God reigns over all — making courageous decisions in workplaces, building cultures in our colleges that favour the disadvantaged, giving radically to those in need — because God is holding everything, including our lives.
When we live under the authority of Jesus as our king, we move away from being beasts and become more human — because Jesus, the Son of Man, is the truest human of all. As we submit our lives to him, we become more like him.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a pastor and theologian who opposed the Nazi regime, wrote in The Cost of Discipleship:
"They wander on earth and live in heaven. And although they are weak, they protect the world. They taste of peace in the midst of turmoil. They are poor and yet they have all they want. They stand in suffering and remain in joy. They appear dead to all outward sense and lead a life of faith within."
This is the distinct life Christians can live — shaped by the perspective that whatever our present circumstances look like, God is in control.
A colleague often ends difficult conversations about hard circumstances with a simple phrase: "The lamb wins." This is the truth Christians can hold on to — that God wins.
The beasts rule for a time, but the Son of Man rules for all time, and his kingdom will have no end. There will be a day when it is not the sound of beasts we hear, but the sound of trumpets as Christ returns — and all kings and kingdoms will bow their knee to him, the King of all kings. We will be gathered there on that day, worshipping Jesus in his name.
Amen.
