You
have been taken into captivity, separated from family, friends, your home, and
the place where you grew up. You are transported hundreds of miles away. You
are placed in a special training school, to serve a conquering king. Everything
is strange. You now live in a city where temples to gods and goddesses abound.
You know you are likely never to see your family or home again. You are given a
new name, in an effort to complete the separation for what you have known.
You
continue as well as you can to pray and worship God. And then a day comes when
the food you are given is better than fine from your captors’ perspective, but is
unclean from how you were raised. Do you give in, since everything has changed?
Do you rationalize this as something obviously God wants you to do? Do you
accept and enjoy the food with gusto?
What
if you decide that remaining faithful to God is what you will do? Do you
protest? Do you argue? Do you challenge your captors? What if you’re dealing
with a totalitarian regime, which will not likely take kindly to disobedience,
civil or uncivil?
That
is the situation Daniel faced in the Babylon of Nebuchadnezzar. He tells the
man in charge of the students, who’s the chief of the eunuchs at court, that he
cannot eat the foot.
How he does it, though, is
instructive.
Daniel
is respectful. As John Lennox points out in Against
the Flow: The Inspiration of Daniel in an Age of Relativism, “We can be sure from what follows that Daniel had
behaved in a friendly and respectful way towards the official and earned the
man’s trust.”
Second,
Daniel offered the man a solution – let him eat only the vegetables that were
served and avoid the meat.
Third,
Daniel had the confidence to follow through. The solution worked; Daniel had
provided the chief eunuch with a way out of the problem.
Why didn’t
the eunuch simply force Daniel to eat the food? Because Daniel’s behavior and
achievements had already set him apart. He was an A+ student. That he of all
the students would have objected required the eunuch to take his problem
seriously.
Daniel’s
behavior throughout the issue was godly. And the problem was resolved. Problems
came later that wouldn’t be resolved, and Daniel would be prepared to pay the
price for faithfulness. But he always behaved consistently.
In an
earlier post, I referred to a time years ago when I was part of a community
protest. Meeting after meeting we addressed a public board. We were always polite,
gentle, and respectful. But we were also firm. What the board was allowing was
wrong; the board was even illegally discussing the problem in closed sessions.
The board didn’t really care one way or another, but elements within the
community did and kept pressure on the board to reject our petition. What the
board really wanted was for us to go away; a tax vote was looming, and the
board was afraid that enough voters would reject the tax.
A showdown
finally came. The board acted, harshly and viciously rejecting our petition.
The meeting resembled a lynch mob, packed with people friendly to the board. It
was ugly and an awful experience to go through.
What the
board didn’t know was that our group was the moderates. When the word got out
what had happened, the more radical and vocal people moved in. The next meeting
started with hundreds of people in front of the board office shouting – and using
megaphones. The board ultimately ignored them as well.
But the
proposed tax went down to defeat.
Sometimes
a gentle and respectful approach doesn’t work. Daniel would ultimately find
that out. But whether it works or not is not our decision nor our plan.
The
lesson is that we remain faithful.
Photograph by Peter Griffin via Public
Domain Pictures. Used with permission.
2 comments:
What an important truth, Glynn. Our tendency - my tendency - is to consider the results when evaluating what action to pursue, but you are so right. We - I - am only called to obedience.
Daniel has long been one of my favorites. So much to learn through his example.
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