CHAPTER 2

Homesick for Jerusalem

"Belrisua," Belshazzar growled. "Bring me a platter of fruit, and a goblet of wine."

The servant bowed to the king's son, and backed away into an adjoining room. He soon returned with the requested goodies.

"Now explain that transaction again, Nabusabitqati. "I want to make sure you followed my instructions." Belshazzar never handled business transactions himself. He had his servants execute the details for him, but he always inspected their work to assure that they'd obeyed his orders—to the letter.

The palace steward rankled at the abrasive tone in Belshazzar's voice. He despised the king's son treating him as though he had no intelligence, but he showed no outward emotion. He bowed and began reading from the still-moist clay tablet on which a palace scribe had recorded the contract.

"By the gods Bel, Nabu, the Beltu of Erech and Nana," he droned, "and the decrees of Nabonidus, the king of Babylon, and Belshazzar, his son, they took oath as follows."

Nabusabitqati cleared his throat and continued. "(As to) one mina and sixteen shekels of silver, principal and interest, the claim of Nabusabitqati, the steward of Belshazzar, the son of the king, which (are charged) against Beliddina, the son of Belshumishkun, son of Sintabni, and (for which) the seed field which (is) between the city gates has been taken as a pledge, the money, amounting to one mina and sixteen shekels, Nabusabitqati from Itti Mardukbalatu, the son of Nabuaheiddin, son of Egibi, has received (as a charge) against Beliddina."¹

"Good." Belshazzar rubbed his hands together and smiled. "The field's worth many times what I loaned him. If he fails to pay we'll have his land. And," he winked, "we'll see that he defaults— Now won't we?" He laughed as he thought of the fortune he was amassing while serving his father.

Short and stocky, the king's son had a broad nose and eyes that slanted slightly upward at the outside corners. He'd grown up in the lavish home of Nabonidus and had once served as chief officer to King Neriglisser. He descended, through his mother, from the great Nebuchadnezzar, and his paternal grandmother was a famous priestess in Haran. Well-known and favored wherever he went, he expected preferential treatment. He was well-educated and knew the mechanics of administration. But he was a spoiled brat.

Belshazzar displayed great zeal in supporting all the famous gods, making pilgrimages, paying tithe, and giving large offerings—all with appropriate fanfare. He enjoyed arguing points of doctrine, often playing devil's advocate and pitting one religion against another. At heart he followed his father's leanings toward the god Sin, but he supported other deities when it gave him some political advantage.

The king's son had an intimate knowledge of Nebuchadnezzar's life and of the mental illness during his later years. He'd been in his late teens then, and often watched the animal-man eating grass in the palace garden. His mother had retold him the story many times. She often read him her father's decree extolling the Most High God, but the young man chafed when he heard it. He convinced himself that Nebuchadnezzar was still insane when he wrote it.

A deep conviction that she was correct lingered in his heart for years, but Belshazzar refused to admit it. Time and again he fought fierce battles with his conscience. "Mother thinks the Jewish God is the greatest," he once confided in a friend. "She says, 'He made proud old Nebuchadnezzar humble.' Rubbish!" he'd shouted, clenching his fists. "Nebuchadnezzar went crazy all by himself. The Jews are no better than anybody else—and Sin can put Yahweh to shame any day."

When Belshazzar came to power he didn't persecute the Jews openly, and yet he made them no concessions either. Whenever he could, he issued decrees that would increase their burdens.

"I detest them," he told his counselors. "They worship a God I don't understand and keep a day that's different from ours." He looked down his nose at his fingernails. "I have broad religious tastes," he gloated, "but I can't swallow their outrageous beliefs."

As Belshazzar's reign progressed, his annoyance turned to hatred. With nothing to check it, his animosity finally blossomed into an open defiance of Yahweh.

"May the king's son live forever." The old man who stood before Belshazzar gave the traditional greeting, and bowed to show respect for the monarch's office.

"What do you want, Daniel?" Belshazzar could hardly control his disdain for this man and his God.

Daniel came right to the point. "The Lord God placed you upon the throne of your grandfather Nebuchadnezzar, and gave you power over Babylon under your father Nabonidus." He measured each word, speaking in solemn tones. "But you have failed to act according to His will."

Belshazzar's face flushed with anger, and a fire of hatred flamed up within the furnace of his heart. Yet he could find no words to stop his antagonist.

"God hates your crime against the Prince of Gutium," continued Daniel. "He despises your unjust decisions and your false dealings with your own people. All these evils have come up before Him, and He requires that you be punished."

The prophet's voice mellowed. "But Yahweh is merciful. He has granted you time to repent, to turn from your wicked ways. You can still reign in justice and integrity, as your grandfather Nebuchadnezzar did. You can still . . . ."

"Enough!" shouted Belshazzar, at last finding his voice. "I don't want your counsel!" He felt a fury take control of his entire being that created an almost uncontrollable desire to kill the hated Jew with his own hands. But he didn't dare. People throughout the empire respected Daniel, and his father would surely call him into account for such a rash act.

Regaining some control, the king's son squinted at Daniel. "We no longer need your services, old man." His tone hung as heavy as ice. "You've out-lived your usefulness here. It's time you retired."

"According to your word," replied Daniel as he started to leave.

"Bow to me, Jew!" shouted Belshazzar.

Daniel turned and smiled. "Out of respect for your father— Whom I continue to serve. . . ." He tilted his head slightly, and left the room.

Belshazzar burned, but others smiled at Daniel's courage.

"My father! My father!" roared the king's son. "Everyone pays homage to my father. I should have become king, not him. I'm the grandson of Nebuchadnezzar— I served as Neriglisser's chief officer— My father gave the kingship to me Why don't people respect me for my position?"

No one answered him. They all secretly rejoiced that Nabonidus still held control and protected them from the tyranny of his son.

The silence brought Belshazzar to his senses. Nabonidus' personal popularity with those in the palace and the army made it possible that this statement could be reported as treason. The king's son felt a bit chagrined.

"Well," he mumbled, loud enough for those who stood nearby to hear, "I guess my father is the king after all, isn't he?" He laughed as though he'd done it all as a joke, but his chuckles sounded hollow.

Daniel suffered right along with all the other Jews. In his seventies now, the prophet still enjoyed the full bloom of health. He grieved that the king's son banished him from the palace, and had noticed a touch of sarcasm in the royal voice, a satisfaction that he'd put the old "meddler" out to pasture.

Daniel felt hurt by the slur against himself and his God. He remembered Jeremiah's words, "We would have healed Babylon, but she was not healed." Babylon's future would have turned out quite differently if she would only accepted Nebuchadnezzar's last decree.

The old seer decided to visit the Jewish colony nestled beside the Chebar Canal. As he strode down the main highway he thought about the status of his fellow Jews.

Life had treated them well in many ways. Some were tenant-farmers, while others labored as date-growers, fishermen, and goat herders. As the years passed many had purchased farms or built houses and businesses. They all raised large families.

In spite of their successes though, many Jews felt discouraged. In their minds, Yahweh had failed to save them from the armies of Nebuchadnezzar, and to some this proved that He had no power to protect them at all. Many gave up the faith, married Babylonians, and lost all ties with the Jewish nation.

Others believed that God hadn't forsaken them at all. They accepted the things they couldn't control, and clung to the aspects of their religion and culture that set them apart from other peoples.

These Jews gave up their idol worship and started synagogues—houses of worship and education. They taught their children about the history and religion of Israel—the Exodus, the covenant at Mt. Sinai, and the meaning of the messages written by the prophets. They trained the little ones how to keep the Sabbath, how to remain free from ritual defilement, and why God asked them to circumcise their male children and offer blood sacrifices.

During this time Jewish scholars gathered the writings of the prophets into collections of books. They made copies of these Scriptures, and sent them to all the Jewish colonies.

Most of the priests had died during the Jerusalem war. Now the colonists had few anointed men to lead them in their worship. The Levites—from the same tribe, but not members of the priestly families—joined their cousins in teaching religion. This helped to put the synagogues on a firm foundation.

Some people developed a "holiness code." They insisted on reverence during worship, and that only priests could lead out in sacred services. They offered sacrifices only at the proper times, and required the people to follow the rituals and prayers that Moses taught. They also made sure that none of their services resembled the idol worship of Canaan or Mesopotamia.²

Daniel smiled as he remembered how the priests and Levites used to fight among themselves, each trying to get power over the people. But now they had been forced to work together in harmony.

The prophet's mind came back to the present as he neared the Chebar village. He came to a group of old men sitting cross-legged on the ground under a tree in front of the local inn.

"Ho, Daniel!" cried one of the men.

Daniel recognized the voice, and ran toward the man rising from the group. "Hananiah!" (Shadrach) he cried. The two locked each other in a warm embrace.

"I'm so glad you've come." Hananiah held Daniel at arm's length and looked deep into his eyes. He basked in the warmth of the kinship they'd enjoyed together for so many years, but at last he spoke again. "Daniel, our people have become discouraged. Belshazzar's policies have made life difficult for them."

"I'm sorry to hear that." The joy that had shown in the old prophet's face melted into an expression of deep sadness.

"You'll remember that as chief buyer for palace supplies, I purchased a lot of grain and olive oil from our farmers and merchants," Hananiah explained. "But when the king's son replaced me with a Babylonian, our people lost their best market." The old man sighed. "I'm afraid some of them went out of business altogether."

"It does seems unfair," agreed Daniel.

"I visited most of the Jewish colonies in my work," went on Hananiah. "Our people had adopted the language and customs of the Babylonians. They owned lands and small business, and very few wanted to return to Judah."

"But that's all changed," remarked Daniel. "The hardships have caused them to think of home again— And that's good."

"It surely is." Hananiah chewed on a stalk of rye grass as he gazed downstream at a departing canal boat.

"Where have your two friends gone?" asked a man who had walked up and now stood beside them.

Hananiah's face wrinkled, and he scratched his head. "Azariah—Abednego. . . ." He turned to Daniel. "Remember how much difficulty he experienced learning how to read and write the cuneiform script?"

Daniel laughed. "He thought he'd never understand all those 'hen scratches', as he called them."

Turning back to the others, Hananiah went on. "Well, he served as the favorite scribe of Nebuchadnezzar's son, Amel-Marduk— From the prince's childhood until his uncle murdered him. You know," he took the rye stalk out of his mouth and pointed it at Daniel. "I never thought about it before, but— I wonder if Azariah had anything to do with Amel-Marduk's releasing King Jehoiachin from prison?"

"No doubt about it," answered Daniel. "Neriglisser knew it too— That's why Azariah found a job in another city after Amel-Marduk died."

"Have you heard anything from Mishael?" (Meshach)

"He still works in the palace— Last I heard," replied Daniel. "Nitocris told me once that she couldn't trust anyone but Mishael as steward of the royal harem."

"How'd he escape the wrath of Belshazzar?" asked an older woman.

"The son of the king tried to put him out," replied Daniel. "But Nitocris wouldn't let him." He smiled to himself and watched a group of slaves tugging at the ropes of an approaching barge. "I think she depends on him for advice as well."

The crowd laughed pressing closer around the two elder statesmen. The experiences of these men in Babylon had made them the most popular Jews in the world, and everyone had questions to ask.

Children had joined the group as well, jumping up and down around the men. "Tell us about the fiery furnace again, Hananiah," shouted a boy. "Were you scared?"

A girl elbowed her way to the front. "Was it hot in the furnace?" she asked, her eyes as large as shekel coins.

Other children shouted questions too, and the clamor became a bedlam.

"Hear! Hear! Quiet down!" demanded a village elder. "Daniel and Hananiah didn't come here to tell children's stories. Go home, you pesky urchins! Be off with you!"

A gentle hand touched the elder's shoulder, and he turned to look into Daniel's face. "Let's tell the children a story first," the prophet suggested. "Then they'll be happy, and we can talk in peace."

The elder shrugged and motioned for the children to sit down.

"Yes," began Hananiah when they had settled. "The furnace was hot— But no, it didn't burn us— And no, we weren't afraid. . . ."

The children sat spellbound as Hananiah told them the story.

". . .And when we came out of the furnace," he concluded, "they didn't find a mark on us— Not a hair singed— Not even the smell of smoke.

"It reminded me of God's promise through Isaiah: 'When you pass through the waters I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the LORD, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.'"³

"Nebuchadnezzar praised God too."

"Amen," chorused the people, as the children ran off to play.

"You've all been concerned by recent events in Babylon." Daniel looked over the small crowd. "It's a time to try men's souls."

The people nodded.

The prophet outlined the instability of the past few years. "Jews everywhere thought Babylon would soon fall and God would lead us home again.

"But now Nabonidus and Belshazzar have restored Babylon's power, and they're causing us more trouble than ever before."

"Isn't it time for Messiah to come?" called a forlorn voice.

"Amen," shouted an elder. "Tell us, Daniel, when will He come and lead us back to Judah?"

Daniel studied the pebbles on the ground before speaking again. "Several months ago I had a dream that helped explain our future." He ran his fingers through his hair.

"In my vision at night I looked, and there before me were the four winds of heaven churning up the great sea. Four great beasts, each different from the others, came up out of the sea.

"The first was like a lion, and it had the wings of an eagle. I watched until its wings were torn off and it was lifted from the ground so that it stood on two feet like a man, and the heart of a man was given to it.

"And there before me was a second beast, which looked like a bear. It was raised up on one of its sides, and it had three ribs in its mouth. . . . It was told, 'Get up and eat your fill of flesh!'

"After that, I looked, and there before me was another beast, one that looked like a leopard. And on its back it had four wings like those of a bird. This beast had four heads, and it was given authority to rule.

"After that,. . . there before me was a fourth beast—terrifying and frightening and very powerful. It had large iron teeth; it crushed and devoured its victims and trampled underfoot whatever was left. It was different from all the former beasts, and it had ten horns. . . .

"As I looked, thrones were set in place, and the Ancient of Days took his seat. . . . Thousands upon thousands attended him; ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him. . . . I looked, and there before me was one like a son of man, coming with the clouds of heaven. He approached the Ancient of Days and was given authority, glory and sovereign power; all peoples, nations and men of every language worshiped him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that will not pass away, and his kingdom is one that will never be destroyed."⁴

"That's the Messiah!" called a man who stood next to the tree. "He's coming soon to set up his kingdom."

Daniel nodded, but went on. "An angel said to me: 'The four great beasts are four kingdoms that will rise from the earth.' The lion with eagles wings must be Babylon, for that's the symbol she uses for herself."

"The wings were plucked off, and a man's heart was given to it," chimed in a Levite sitting near the front. "That must mean that the empire will become weak."

"That's right." Daniel grinned. "We're living in that time right now."

"But your dream doesn't show Messiah coming now." The priest's deeply creased forehead showed his concern.

"No," Daniel replied. "Messiah will come at some future time. However, Babylon is nearing its end. God will soon open the gates so we can go home— And that's good news!"

While Nabonidus occupied himself with the Arabs, and Belshazzar amassed his personal fortune at the expense of virtually everyone, Nitocris used her talents in more constructive ways. As a child she'd always wondered at her father's great building projects. She'd observed his contractors build great temples, walls, and gates, and had developed a remarkable degree of engineering skill merely through watching them.

When Nebuchadnezzar died, Nitocris mourned the loss of her father. She also grieved for his unfinished projects. "If only he could have completed them all," she wailed to her husband after the funeral. "Then he'd have worthy monuments to remind future generations of his greatness."

"He's already built more than a hundred kings before him," consoled Nabonidus. "No one will ever forget

"I know," she whimpered. "It's just that. . . ."

"That you enjoyed watching his buildings grow," chided her husband. "You'd have given up your royal ancestry just to have a part in the design and construction yourself."

"You noticed?" She dried her eyes and gazed at her husband. "I know it's not a woman's position, but. . . ."

"Never mind, Nitocris." He enfolded her with his massive arms and touched his forehead to hers. "Perhaps someday you can finish your father's work."

It had seemed an impossible dream to the wife of a court official, but when Nabonidus rose to power the old instincts returned. So when her husband went on his extended military missions, Nitocris resurrected her father's old blueprints and hired builders to begin work.

"My father built the suburban housing district across the river," she told one contractor, "and he never built a bridge to connect it with the old city."

"We'll need money and materials— And many laborers," returned the builder.

"You shall have them," she replied, a feeling of euphoria passing over her. "I'm in contact with the king almost daily through the royal messenger service. If any matters arise beyond my authority, I can have his reply within a week or two."

During Nabonidus' absence she completed the bridge—resting it upon imported stone piers—and beautified many temples. She also altered the course of the Euphrates River above Babylon so that any invader would have difficulty attacking from that direction. She enlarged the reservoir that her father had built north of the city. It was used to store rainy-season runoff water to use in filling irrigation canals during dry months.

"Father would be proud that I've finished his projects," she told Belshazzar. "I only wish you could become as great a king as he."

"I am great," growled her son. "If you'd stop interfering with my decisions, I'd be even greater."

"Your decisions are often faulty, my son."

"Faulty!" he roared. "What do you mean, 'Faulty'?"

"Your heart has become perverse." A tear formed in the corner of her eye, and she leaned forward, placing her hand on his. "Your father failed to discipline you when you were younger. You always got your way whether it was good or bad, and now you have a flawed character. I fear that only the God of Daniel and Nebuchadnezzar can change you."

"Don't speak to me about Him!" shouted Belshazzar, jerking his hand away from hers. "I hate Him— And Daniel— And all his kind. I'll never kowtow to the God of the Jews."

"Then you can never be great, my son," she wailed, burying her face in her hands. "Someday you'll fall. And when you do, all my work— And my father's before me— And all Babylon— Will fall into alien hands."

¹Actual text of a clay tablet showing a business transaction made for Belshazzar.

²Leviticus 23:10-13; 18:1-5.

³Isaiah 43:2, 3 (emphasis supplied).

⁴Daniel 7:2-14 (NIV)

Chapter 3