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I want to talk this morning about how we live on the right side of history. We've just sung an amazing song, Behold Our God, behold our King, the one who reigns forever and ever. Don't get bogged down in the detail of Daniel's vision and all that strange imagery. It simply reveals that there is a God we're to behold — a King we're to behold — and He reigns on a throne forever and ever.
Yesterday, Tiffany and I stumbled on a peace festival. A large crowd of sincere people wanting a better, more just society had gathered, and there was a smorgasbord of aids to personal and world peace on sale — everything from new age spiritualities to alternative therapies to aromatherapy candles. There was also a table with Christian literature and the Bible. But there was something missing. It was the Daniel angle — God's perspective on history.
The American historian William Federer once wrote, "History is boring unless you see it from the right perspective." I'm not sure I wholly agree — for some people, living through history is decidedly not boring; it can be terrifying. But what we have in Daniel 7 is God's perspective on history. It's the schematic over which He rules, and everything changes when we see it, understand it, and respond to it from God's perspective.
Daniel's vision is essentially in two parts: a vision of history unfolding, and a vision of heaven running parallel to it. The imagery is prophetic, dramatic, apocalyptic — even scary. But the intention of the vision is not to instill fear; it's to still fear.
Daniel sees four beasts representing four successive empires — one he'd lived through the end of, one he was living through, and two set in the future. Some see the lion as Babylon, the bear as Medo-Persia, the leopard as Greece, and the beast with iron teeth and ten horns as Rome. It's not unusual for animals to symbolize nations — even today we speak of the USA as an eagle, Russia as a bear, or Britain as the lion.//incidentally, on a psychological profile test I once came out as a polar bear, which apparently meant I was really cool.//
Daniel's beasts, though, are violent, predatory, territorial. When God made us in Eden, He commissioned us to rule over the animals. But when sin takes hold, humanity doesn't rule over the beasts — it becomes like them, and is ruled by them. This lust for power, avarice, and dominance of empire over empire turns nations into beasts. We saw it vividly earlier in Daniel when Nebuchadnezzar, full of his own glory, became like an animal for seven years.
These kingdoms are marked by violence, arrogance, and expansive ambition. They blaspheme God, persecute His people — and they all rise, and then they fall. Today, all that remains of these four kingdoms is a record in history books, ruins in the sand, or relics in a museum. Babylon is a sprawling ruin in Mesopotamia. Persepolis lies buried under sand. Greece was decimated by Rome. Rome itself was destroyed by division, decadence, and the barbarians.
"We look back upon history and what do we see? Empires rising and falling, revolutions and counterrevolutions, wealth accumulating and wealth dispersed, one nation dominant and then another." — Malcolm Muggeridge
I once flew into Germany with a former air commodore who pointed out a huge valley below us — the place he'd spent thousands of flying hours preparing to stop Soviet tanks when World War III began. Of course, the Soviet Union collapsed instead — the great threat of decades dissolved, quietly, the year I got married. Kingdoms rise and fall.
The most important thing we see here is that the kingdom of God rises and stands when all else falls. Daniel's vision shifts from earthly empires to heavenly thrones — from humans grasping at power to the divine power that actually holds it. The two are connected: God in heaven is not indifferent or absent from what happens on earth.
In verse 9, thrones are set up. This is no game — this is the real deal. The Ancient of Days, a synonym for God, takes his seat, robed in white (a sign of purity), hair like wool (a sign of wisdom). His throne is ablaze with fire, its wheels ablaze — power that is not static but dynamic. A river of fire flows from before Him, a sign of judgment.//
Then we're told 10,000 times 10,000 minister to Him — 100 million people worshipping and serving. That was roughly the population of the entire world when Daniel was writing. No kingdom that ever existed had numbers anywhere near that — yet Daniel sees an inconceivable multitude worshipping before God's throne.
A court convenes; books are opened; a record of our lives is read; the judge judges justly. This vision combines a monarch's court and a judge's court — and God is both.
Churchill once quipped, "History will be kind to me, for I intend to write it." Oh really? It's God who records history, and He judges and rewards us on our history.
God is not ignorant, not indifferent, not impotent. He sees, He records, He acts, and one day He judges. The first three beasts are stripped of authority but permitted to continue; the fourth, violent and arrogant, is thrown into the fire. Throughout Daniel, the constant question has been: who really holds the power? Not Nebuchadnezzar, not Belshazzar, not Cyrus, not Caesar. Ultimate power belongs to the King of heaven on the throne.
Then the scene widens. In verse 14, one comes on the clouds and approaches the Ancient of Days — not to serve, but to sit on a throne and be served. This figure is called the Son of Man. It was a mystery to Daniel, a mystery to the Jewish people for centuries. Who is this person — a Son of Man, yet divine — approaching the Ancient of Days, worshipped and glorified?
Jesus took this title for Himself; the Gospels use it 81 times to describe Him, more than any other title. He even quoted this very passage before the Sanhedrin, just before His crucifixion. Where human empires, lusting for power, become dehumanized — beastly — God's Son exchanges a throne for a cross. He is the perfect humanity: the Son of Man. If the other kingdoms become animalistic, Jesus is the most human of all.
He comes on the clouds — a symbol throughout Scripture of God's presence, both revealed and concealed: the cloud that led Israel in the wilderness, that filled the temple, the chariot of God in the Psalms. Scholars debate whether He is coming or going in this vision. I think, after His resurrection and ascension, He is entering the Father's presence to receive His glory and crown. But He Himself told us He will also return on the clouds.
One day we will lift up our heads and see the Son of Man coming on the clouds. A shout will go out, a trumpet will sound, and the Lord will return, set up His throne on earth, judge the living and the dead, put an end to evil, and open up eternity and glory.
He was given authority and glory and sovereign power, and all the nations and peoples of every language worshipped Him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that will never pass away.
Every human empire — past, present, or still to come before the Lord returns — grasps at glory and immortality, but is limited by history, geography, time, and space. Jesus' kingdom alone is eternal. And this eternal kingdom is for everyone who will come and worship Him — all nations, all peoples, all languages. There is no racism in heaven.
Verse 15 says, "I, Daniel, was troubled in spirit, and the visions that passed through my mind disturbed me." Later, "I was troubled and my face turned pale." Perhaps some of you feel troubled in spirit today — facing real struggles with work, family, health, or finances, or simply overwhelmed by the culture we're in.
The vision of monstrous beasts rising from a churning sea, symbolizing brutal empires persecuting God's people, is enough to unsettle anyone — and that is the gritty reality of history. Human history is fragile and hostile: wars, rumors of wars, economic instability, pandemics, climate crisis, unchecked AI. My sister-in-law, a clinical psychologist, tells me many people suffer from what's called headline stress disorder — triggered by the news, unable even to watch it. Others fuel their fear through doomscrolling, living in constant anxiety.
But the purpose of this vision is not to instill fear — it's to still it. It gives us an eternal, heavenly perspective: that God and His Son, Jesus Christ, is King, is on the throne, is in control, and one day will take ultimate control.
I'll never forget coming home on September 11th, 2001. Tiffany told me something terrible had happened, and we watched, shaken to the core, as the World Trade Center was attacked. The next day at work I asked the rector, David McInnes, "Do you think World War III is about to break out?" He calmly replied, "I hoped I would not live to see such a thing." Then he said, "Simon, don't be anxious. The lamb is still on the throne."
That became a watchword for the rest of my ministry. Whenever students came to me anxious about relationships, grades, family, or the future, I would say it back to them: the Lamb wins. The Lamb is on the throne.
That is what this chapter — this whole book — is about: that we worship and serve and follow the Son of Man, seated on the throne beside His Father, the Ancient of Days. He holds history. And one day He is coming back on the clouds for us.
Amen.
Continue exploring
Connected by scripture or shared themes.
I want to talk this morning about how we live on the right side of history. We've just sung an amazing song, Behold Our God, behold our King, the one who reigns forever and ever. Don't get bogged down in the detail of Daniel's vision and all that strange imagery. It simply reveals that there is a God we're to behold — a King we're to behold — and He reigns on a throne forever and ever.
Yesterday, Tiffany and I stumbled on a peace festival. A large crowd of sincere people wanting a better, more just society had gathered, and there was a smorgasbord of aids to personal and world peace on sale — everything from new age spiritualities to alternative therapies to aromatherapy candles. There was also a table with Christian literature and the Bible. But there was something missing. It was the Daniel angle — God's perspective on history.
The American historian William Federer once wrote, "History is boring unless you see it from the right perspective." I'm not sure I wholly agree — for some people, living through history is decidedly not boring; it can be terrifying. But what we have in Daniel 7 is God's perspective on history. It's the schematic over which He rules, and everything changes when we see it, understand it, and respond to it from God's perspective.
Daniel's vision is essentially in two parts: a vision of history unfolding, and a vision of heaven running parallel to it. The imagery is prophetic, dramatic, apocalyptic — even scary. But the intention of the vision is not to instill fear; it's to still fear.
Daniel sees four beasts representing four successive empires — one he'd lived through the end of, one he was living through, and two set in the future. Some see the lion as Babylon, the bear as Medo-Persia, the leopard as Greece, and the beast with iron teeth and ten horns as Rome. It's not unusual for animals to symbolize nations — even today we speak of the USA as an eagle, Russia as a bear, or Britain as the lion.//incidentally, on a psychological profile test I once came out as a polar bear, which apparently meant I was really cool.//
Daniel's beasts, though, are violent, predatory, territorial. When God made us in Eden, He commissioned us to rule over the animals. But when sin takes hold, humanity doesn't rule over the beasts — it becomes like them, and is ruled by them. This lust for power, avarice, and dominance of empire over empire turns nations into beasts. We saw it vividly earlier in Daniel when Nebuchadnezzar, full of his own glory, became like an animal for seven years.
These kingdoms are marked by violence, arrogance, and expansive ambition. They blaspheme God, persecute His people — and they all rise, and then they fall. Today, all that remains of these four kingdoms is a record in history books, ruins in the sand, or relics in a museum. Babylon is a sprawling ruin in Mesopotamia. Persepolis lies buried under sand. Greece was decimated by Rome. Rome itself was destroyed by division, decadence, and the barbarians.
"We look back upon history and what do we see? Empires rising and falling, revolutions and counterrevolutions, wealth accumulating and wealth dispersed, one nation dominant and then another." — Malcolm Muggeridge
I once flew into Germany with a former air commodore who pointed out a huge valley below us — the place he'd spent thousands of flying hours preparing to stop Soviet tanks when World War III began. Of course, the Soviet Union collapsed instead — the great threat of decades dissolved, quietly, the year I got married. Kingdoms rise and fall.
The most important thing we see here is that the kingdom of God rises and stands when all else falls. Daniel's vision shifts from earthly empires to heavenly thrones — from humans grasping at power to the divine power that actually holds it. The two are connected: God in heaven is not indifferent or absent from what happens on earth.
In verse 9, thrones are set up. This is no game — this is the real deal. The Ancient of Days, a synonym for God, takes his seat, robed in white (a sign of purity), hair like wool (a sign of wisdom). His throne is ablaze with fire, its wheels ablaze — power that is not static but dynamic. A river of fire flows from before Him, a sign of judgment.//
Then we're told 10,000 times 10,000 minister to Him — 100 million people worshipping and serving. That was roughly the population of the entire world when Daniel was writing. No kingdom that ever existed had numbers anywhere near that — yet Daniel sees an inconceivable multitude worshipping before God's throne.
A court convenes; books are opened; a record of our lives is read; the judge judges justly. This vision combines a monarch's court and a judge's court — and God is both.
Churchill once quipped, "History will be kind to me, for I intend to write it." Oh really? It's God who records history, and He judges and rewards us on our history.
God is not ignorant, not indifferent, not impotent. He sees, He records, He acts, and one day He judges. The first three beasts are stripped of authority but permitted to continue; the fourth, violent and arrogant, is thrown into the fire. Throughout Daniel, the constant question has been: who really holds the power? Not Nebuchadnezzar, not Belshazzar, not Cyrus, not Caesar. Ultimate power belongs to the King of heaven on the throne.
Then the scene widens. In verse 14, one comes on the clouds and approaches the Ancient of Days — not to serve, but to sit on a throne and be served. This figure is called the Son of Man. It was a mystery to Daniel, a mystery to the Jewish people for centuries. Who is this person — a Son of Man, yet divine — approaching the Ancient of Days, worshipped and glorified?
Jesus took this title for Himself; the Gospels use it 81 times to describe Him, more than any other title. He even quoted this very passage before the Sanhedrin, just before His crucifixion. Where human empires, lusting for power, become dehumanized — beastly — God's Son exchanges a throne for a cross. He is the perfect humanity: the Son of Man. If the other kingdoms become animalistic, Jesus is the most human of all.
He comes on the clouds — a symbol throughout Scripture of God's presence, both revealed and concealed: the cloud that led Israel in the wilderness, that filled the temple, the chariot of God in the Psalms. Scholars debate whether He is coming or going in this vision. I think, after His resurrection and ascension, He is entering the Father's presence to receive His glory and crown. But He Himself told us He will also return on the clouds.
One day we will lift up our heads and see the Son of Man coming on the clouds. A shout will go out, a trumpet will sound, and the Lord will return, set up His throne on earth, judge the living and the dead, put an end to evil, and open up eternity and glory.
He was given authority and glory and sovereign power, and all the nations and peoples of every language worshipped Him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that will never pass away.
Every human empire — past, present, or still to come before the Lord returns — grasps at glory and immortality, but is limited by history, geography, time, and space. Jesus' kingdom alone is eternal. And this eternal kingdom is for everyone who will come and worship Him — all nations, all peoples, all languages. There is no racism in heaven.
Verse 15 says, "I, Daniel, was troubled in spirit, and the visions that passed through my mind disturbed me." Later, "I was troubled and my face turned pale." Perhaps some of you feel troubled in spirit today — facing real struggles with work, family, health, or finances, or simply overwhelmed by the culture we're in.
The vision of monstrous beasts rising from a churning sea, symbolizing brutal empires persecuting God's people, is enough to unsettle anyone — and that is the gritty reality of history. Human history is fragile and hostile: wars, rumors of wars, economic instability, pandemics, climate crisis, unchecked AI. My sister-in-law, a clinical psychologist, tells me many people suffer from what's called headline stress disorder — triggered by the news, unable even to watch it. Others fuel their fear through doomscrolling, living in constant anxiety.
But the purpose of this vision is not to instill fear — it's to still it. It gives us an eternal, heavenly perspective: that God and His Son, Jesus Christ, is King, is on the throne, is in control, and one day will take ultimate control.
I'll never forget coming home on September 11th, 2001. Tiffany told me something terrible had happened, and we watched, shaken to the core, as the World Trade Center was attacked. The next day at work I asked the rector, David McInnes, "Do you think World War III is about to break out?" He calmly replied, "I hoped I would not live to see such a thing." Then he said, "Simon, don't be anxious. The lamb is still on the throne."
That became a watchword for the rest of my ministry. Whenever students came to me anxious about relationships, grades, family, or the future, I would say it back to them: the Lamb wins. The Lamb is on the throne.
That is what this chapter — this whole book — is about: that we worship and serve and follow the Son of Man, seated on the throne beside His Father, the Ancient of Days. He holds history. And one day He is coming back on the clouds for us.
Amen.
Continue exploring
Connected by scripture or shared themes.
