Daniel 8:1–27

1IN THE THIRD year of King Belshazzar’s reign, I, Daniel, had a vision, after the one that had already appeared to me. 2In my vision I saw myself in the citadel of Susa in the province of Elam; in the vision I was beside the Ulai Canal. 3I looked up, and there before me was a ram with two horns, standing beside the canal, and the horns were long. One of the horns was longer than the other but grew up later. 4I watched the ram as he charged toward the west and the north and the south. No animal could stand against him, and none could rescue from his power. He did as he pleased and became great.

5As I was thinking about this, suddenly a goat with a prominent horn between his eyes came from the west, crossing the whole earth without touching the ground. 6He came toward the two-horned ram I had seen standing beside the canal and charged at him in great rage. 7I saw him attack the ram furiously, striking the ram and shattering his two horns. The ram was powerless to stand against him; the goat knocked him to the ground and trampled on him, and none could rescue the ram from his power. 8The goat became very great, but at the height of his power his large horn was broken off, and in its place four prominent horns grew up toward the four winds of heaven.

9Out of one of them came another horn, which started small but grew in power to the south and to the east and toward the Beautiful Land. 10It grew until it reached the host of the heavens, and it threw some of the starry host down to the earth and trampled on them. 11It set itself up to be as great as the Prince of the host; it took away the daily sacrifice from him, and the place of his sanctuary was brought low. 12Because of rebellion, the host of the saints and the daily sacrifice were given over to it. It prospered in everything it did, and truth was thrown to the ground.

13Then I heard a holy one speaking, and another holy one said to him, “How long will it take for the vision to be fulfilled—the vision concerning the daily sacrifice, the rebellion that causes desolation, and the surrender of the sanctuary and of the host that will be trampled underfoot?”

14He said to me, “It will take 2,300 evenings and mornings; then the sanctuary will be reconsecrated.”

15While I, Daniel, was watching the vision and trying to understand it, there before me stood one who looked like a man. 16And I heard a man’s voice from the Ulai calling, “Gabriel, tell this man the meaning of the vision.”

17As he came near the place where I was standing, I was terrified and fell prostrate. “Son of man,” he said to me, “understand that the vision concerns the time of the end.”

18While he was speaking to me, I was in a deep sleep, with my face to the ground. Then he touched me and raised me to my feet.

19He said: “I am going to tell you what will happen later in the time of wrath, because the vision concerns the appointed time of the end. 20The two-horned ram that you saw represents the kings of Media and Persia. 21The shaggy goat is the king of Greece, and the large horn between his eyes is the first king. 22The four horns that replaced the one that was broken off represent four kingdoms that will emerge from his nation but will not have the same power.

23“In the latter part of their reign, when rebels have become completely wicked, a stern-faced king, a master of intrigue, will arise. 24He will become very strong, but not by his own power. He will cause astounding devastation and will succeed in whatever he does. He will destroy the mighty men and the holy people. 25He will cause deceit to prosper, and he will consider himself superior. When they feel secure, he will destroy many and take his stand against the Prince of princes. Yet he will be destroyed, but not by human power.

26“The vision of the evenings and mornings that has been given you is true, but seal up the vision, for it concerns the distant future.”

27I, Daniel, was exhausted and lay ill for several days. Then I got up and went about the king’s business. I was appalled by the vision; it was beyond understanding.

Original Meaning

THE CONNECTION OF Daniel 8 with chapter 7 is obvious. The first verse associates the two by introducing the second vision as occurring “after the one that had already appeared to me.” It comes from approximately the same time period, Belshazzar’s third year, two years after chapter 7. In addition, the actors in the prophetic visions of both chapters are animals, and we soon see that these animals represent kingdoms, that is, political entities. In both cases, there is a concluding focus on a horn that emanates from these animals. Finally, both chapters concern hostility between the animal kingdoms and the divine realm.

But closer examination forces us to recognize differences between the chapters as well. Some appear relatively incidental to the meaning of the text. For instance, the prophecy in chapter 7 is called a dream, whereas the prophecy in eight is termed a “vision.” From the description of the two, the distinction is not so much in terms of content or form, but rather in terms of the way the prophecy is mediated to Daniel (see comment below on v. 1).

Another difference between the prophecies of the two chapters has to do with the nature of the animals and the transparency of the imagery. In chapter 7, we encountered hybrid animals of grotesque appearance, while in chapter 8, the animals seem normal (with the possible exception of the horns). In our description below, we will see the ease with which we can associate these animals and their horns with particular and well-known political entities. This fact explains why commentators over the years have registered little of the interpretive disagreement that we saw in chapter 7.1

The similarities between these two chapters mean that the themes of the two are closely related. Indeed, we have already indicated that chapters 7–12 focus on six important themes:

• the horror of human evil, particularly as it is concentrated in the state

• the announcement of a specific time of deliverance

• repentance that leads to deliverance

• the revelation that a cosmic war stands behind human conflict

• judgment as certain for those who resist God and oppress his people

• the equally certain truth that God’s people, downtrodden in the present, will experience new life in the fullest sense.

While we will have occasion to comment on each of these themes in this chapter, in keeping with our intention to focus on one of these themes in each of chapters 7–12 (see comments in “The Nature of Apocalyptic Literature” in the Original Meaning section of chapter 7), we will pay particular attention here to the issue of the announcement of a specific time of deliverance. Furthermore, we would be remiss if we did not point out that the overarching theme of this chapter supports the major theme of the book as a whole: In spite of present circumstances, God will win in the end.

However, Daniel 8 not only has connections within the book of Daniel. As we read this chapter, we cannot help but think of Ezekiel. Daniel finds himself at the Ulai canal outside of Susa when he receives his vision (1:2), reminiscent of Ezekiel beside the Kebar River (Ezek. 1:1). Ezekiel too symbolically represented people through the use of animal and shepherd imagery (Ezek. 34).2 This connection with Ezekiel will help us to understand the nature of Daniel’s vision.

With chapter 8 the book reverts to Hebrew (Aramaic being the language of chs. 2–7). No explanation for the switch back is given in the text, and no scholarly argument has yet achieved a consensus of opinion.

The vision of Daniel in this chapter has, generally speaking, a two-part structure: (1) the vision of a ram and a goat (8:1–14), and (2) the interpretation of the vision (8:15–27).

The Vision of a Ram and a Goat (8:1–14)

DANIEL’S VISION TAKES place in the third year of Belshazzar’s reign. If Hasel is correct, this situates the vision in 548/547 B.C.3 In the vision, Daniel is located near the city of Susa (in the province of Elam) on the Ulai Canal. Some think that Daniel was literally present in this location,4 and as a high official in the realm, he certainly could have traveled this distance.5 However, the connections noted above with the book of Ezekiel suggests that Daniel, like Ezekiel, was carried to the Ulai by means of his prophetic vision, not physically.

When Daniel had his vision, Susa was already an ancient city and was the leading city of Elam. Later, however, it would become the winter residence of the Persian kings. The significance of the location is probably that it was outside of the Babylonian empire and near the center of future power. According to Collins, the Ulai Canal was a human-made waterway that was called the Eulaeus in later classical writings.6 Towner is wrong to deny the existence of this waterway or the fact that Susa was an active city during Belshazzar’s reign.7

The first thing that presents itself to Daniel in the vision is a ram. This ram has two horns and charges with great success in three directions: west, north, and south.

Then a second animal interrupts his vision of the ram. It is a goat, coming from the west. Notable about the goat is a single large horn. This goat attacks the ram ferociously and succeeds in knocking off its horns. The goat utterly overwhelms the ram. It has great speed, indicated by its racing across the landscape “without touching the ground” (v. 5). However, the goat’s power does not last forever, perhaps only a very short time. There is no slow decline of its power, but it is suddenly cut off. The prominent horn is broken and in its place grow four others, spreading out in four directions.

The description of the success and travail of the ram and the goat are simply a prelude to the focus of the passage, which centers on a small horn that grows out of one of the four. Already, we know that the symbol of the horn points to a king or a kingdom.8 This small horn takes on large proportions as it grows to the south, to the east, and toward the Beautiful Land. The latter can be none other than Israel itself, the land of milk and honey (cf. Ezek. 20:6, 15), the land considered most attractive by virtue of a divine perspective appreciated by Daniel.

But the growth of this small horn reaches beyond human dimensions. It grows until it attains the “host of the heavens” (v. 10) and enters into a conflict with this heavenly army. Strikingly, the text reports that the small horn achieves some measure of success against its rivals in the sky. Then, climactically, the horn challenges “the Prince of the host” (v. 11). Significantly, its incursion against the Prince is described as harm done to the formal worship of Israel: “It took away the daily sacrifice.” This sacrifice may refer specifically to the morning and evening sacrifices at the temple (Ex. 29:39–41; Num. 28:3–8),9 or it may refer to a disruption of the entire temple ritual.10 The latter interpretation may be supported by the line that “the place of his [the Prince’s] sanctuary was brought low” (v. 11).

Verse 12 is difficult and its interpretation uncertain: “Because of rebellion, the host of the saints and the daily sacrifice were given over to it.” The NIV indicates by the half brackets that the genitive phrase “of the saints” is added and suggests in a footnote that the “host” can be taken as “the armies.” Indeed, the Hebrew word for “host” usually has military connotations.11 The problem of the verse surrounds the reference to “rebellion” and “host/armies.” We reserve full discussion of the latter when we come to the more illuminating interpretation section in the second half of the chapter, but our conclusion will be that the primary reference is to the heavenly armies of God. Associated with them are faithful Israelites, who fight against the incursions of the small horn (8:9, also to be identified below).

In a word, it is clear that God’s side will take some blows during the struggle “because of the rebellion.” Is this the rebellion of the little horn or of God’s people. Arguments can be given for either side of this debate, but within this chapter little evidence exists for the latter view. True, in chapter 9 responsibility for the plight of the Israelites in the Babylonian exile rests squarely on the shoulders of the rebellious people. Here, however, we are not talking about the condition of God’s people in the sixth century; rather, as we will soon see, we are hearing about the struggles of God’s faithful people in the middle of the second century. While it is true that the reference could be to those Jewish people who drifted from God’s way at that time, that is doubtful. The meaning of the passage appears to be that God’s people suffer at the hands of a power that rebels against God and seeks to take his place.

Again, the astounding fact is that this little horn succeeds at least for a while and that the “truth” was thrown to the ground. Our identification of the historical circumstance in view here awaits the next section, but we will anticipate that discussion by saying that this statement finds its fulfillment in the burning of Torah scrolls by the little horn, as recorded in 1 Maccabees 1:56–57, which describes events in the middle of the second century B.C.: “The books of the law that they found they tore to pieces and burned with fire. Anyone found possessing the book of the covenant, or anyone who adhered to the law, was condemned to death by the decree of the king” (NRSV).

At this point, the action of the vision of Daniel 8 stops. Note that throughout the vision there is no indication of a reversal, a victory of the forces of God over the power of the small horn. The first half of chapter 8 concludes rather with a discussion between two celestial creatures about “how long” these horrible events will last. That “how long” is reminiscent of a frequent lament in the Psalms (cf. Pss. 6:3; 13:1–2; 35:17).

How long will the sanctuary and its ritual be disrupted? While the one celestial being directs his question to the other, it is notable that the answer is addressed not to the celestial being, but rather to Daniel (v. 14): “It will take 2,300 evenings and mornings; then the sanctuary will be reconsecrated.”

It is with the interpretation of this chronological statement that we encounter the most disagreement about the interpretation of the symbolism of the chapter. Literally, the phrase translates “evening, morning—two thousand, three hundred.” Does this mean 2300 days, reflecting the language of Genesis 1 (“there was evening, and there was morning—the [Xth] day”)? Or does it mean 1150 days, with the reference to evening and morning being to the daily sacrifices? In other words, were there 1150 morning sacrifices and 1150 evening sacrifices, totaling 2300 sacrifices but 1150 days? Our answer to this question also awaits the interpretation that follows.

The Interpretation of the Vision (8:15–27)

THE VISION HAS come to an end and Daniel struggles to understand its significance. Suddenly, a humanlike figure appears before him, and he hears the voice of another person “from the Ulai.” The text suggests12 that the voice is disembodied and seems to hover over the waterway. The first figure is named; he is Gabriel (meaning “God’s hero”), a leading angel in God’s heavenly army.13 The source of the voice is not named, but we are surely to believe that it is the voice of God himself, who, after all, commands this powerful angelic being to reveal to Daniel the meaning of the vision that he has been watching.

Gabriel approaches Daniel, and Daniel, overwhelmed by the spiritual power that stands before him, drops to his face. The first words from Gabriel announces the interpretation of the vision under a general heading: It “concerns the time of the end” (v. 17). Later, he will describe the scope of the vision as “what will happen later in the time of wrath, because the vision concerns the appointed time of the end” (v. 19).

This general introduction might at first lead us to believe that the vision concerns the end of history, the consummation, what Christians now refer to as “the Second Coming.” Indeed, this phrase can have that sense (cf. 12:4). Some scholars opt for this meaning in this passage.14 But the clear interpretation of the context of the vision’s climax places it squarely in the middle of the second century B.C. In light of that context, we believe that the phrase indicates the end of the persecution initiated by the little horn, identified below with the Seleucid king Antiochus IV.15

Gabriel interprets the animal symbolism given earlier in the chapter in a precise manner. Unlike chapter 7, where the animals are said to be “four kingdoms,” here they are identified with particular and well-known political entities.16 The ram with the two horns represents the “kings of Media and Persia” (v. 20). In the vision itself, one horn grew larger than the other, which is surely a reference to the fact that the Persian part of this empire soon swallowed the Median part and assumed dominance.

The goat with the single horn that speedily devastated the ram is “Greece,” the single horn being its first king—Alexander the Great. He achieved an unprecedented domination from Italy to India in unbelievable time; but he died suddenly at age 33 in 323 B.C., leaving behind two young sons, Alexander and Herakles.17 These boys were ultimately murdered, and the world was carved up between Alexander’s powerful generals, the Diadochi. The Diadochi are the “four prominent horns” (v. 8; cf. v. 22).

The vision then skips over about two centuries of history (later detailed in the vision of ch. 11). For now the focus goes immediately to one particular horn. Scholars almost universally agree that the horn that grew out of one of the four is the second century B.C. Seleucid ruler, Antiochus IV Epiphanes. We know much about this king from intertestamental writings like the Maccabees. He started out small and grew large. He was not actually the first in line to succeed his older brother Seleucus IV, but through the political manipulation for which he became famous (he was a “master of intrigue” [v. 23]), he managed to push his nephew out of the way and gain the throne. He grew large through military success, pushing his influence into Egypt as well as east into Persian, Parthia, and Armenia, not to speak of his domination of Palestine.

Antiochus IV, however, established himself as a “completely wicked” and “stern-faced king” (v. 23) through his incredible intrusion and disruption of the Jewish ritual. Jewish religion and practice stood in the way of his policy of Hellenization, and among other atrocities, he ordered the cessation of temple sacrifice in 167 B.C. and profaned the temple by introducing a holy object sacred to the god Zeus, to which he sacrificed a pig, abhorrent to Jewish religion. This holy object has been suggested to be a meteorite that became a cult object that the Jews referred to as “an abomination that causes desolation” (9:27).

Such actions against the formal worship of God’s people was far more than an affront against the people; it was an attack against heaven itself. Antiochus indeed took a stand against the “Prince of princes,” that is, against God. But such arrogance can only lead to one conclusion: utter defeat. The defeat of the small horn is announced simply and definitively: “Yet he will be destroyed, but not by human power” (v. 25). The latter clause should not be taken to mean that no human agency was involved in the downfall of Antiochus, but rather that the ultimate power behind the Maccabean freedom fighters was God himself, who gave them the victory and allowed them to restore the temple to its former function as a center for worship of the true God.

Finally, the angelic interpreter reaffirms the time frame of the suffering and its end: “The vision of the evenings and mornings that has been given you is true, but seal up the vision, for it concerns the distant future” (v. 26). Interestingly, even in historical retrospect we cannot be dogmatic about the meaning of the 2300 evenings and mornings. Above we have commented that there are at least two equally plausible ways to interpret this number: 2300 days (its most natural reading) or 2300 morning and evening sacrifices (i.e., 1150 days). The second interpretation can be supported by the context and a knowledge of the sacrificial system in Israel.

It is also possible to fit both numbers, approximately, into the time of its fulfillment in the middle of the second century B.C. After all, when does the period start, with the prohibition of sacrifice in late 167 or earlier with the removal of Onias III from the high priesthood in 171? And when does it end, with the reconsecration of the high priesthood in 164 or in 163 when Antiochus died? Or, contrary to both of these literalistic interpretations, is the number symbolic?18

In the final analysis, we cannot be dogmatic. The number is given not so much so that those who read Daniel’s sixth-century prognostications in the second century could compute when the suffering would stop as much as to assure them that God had things under control. Furthermore, the number indicates with certainty that there would be a stopping point to the persecution, even if that number could not be computed into a definite date in the calendar as they knew it. As we will comment in the next sections, this number is typical of chronological numbers throughout the book of Daniel. They may not be used for date settings or for establishing apocalyptic calendars. Moreover, if we cannot be certain of numbers used in prophecies that have already been fulfilled, how likely can we figure out the numbers that point to times in the far distant future?

The prophecy ends with Daniel “exhausted” and confused. Though clear in many regards, the vision would have astounded someone living in the sixth century B.C., where Media, Persia, and Greece were relatively small points on the map. Not only that, but we have seen in regard to the 2300 days that even today, centuries after the fulfillment, certain elements are still not clear to us.

Bridging Contexts

IF WE HAVE been reading through the book of Daniel, by now its major theme is well ingrained in our minds: In spite of present appearances, God is in control and will triumph against the forces of evil. After reading chapter 8, we can readily see how this is the case here. We will spell it out more clearly in the light of the six important points that we anticipated were present to some degree in each of the last six chapters of the book.19

(1) The horror of human evil is especially concentrated in the state. Like chapter 7, Daniel 8 paints a picture of world history using animal imagery. A goat fights a ram. The goat’s single horn is broken and is replaced by four horns. From one of the four a small horn sprouts and assumes god-like proportions. These images clearly represent political entities, nation states that will, from Daniel’s sixth-century perspective, rise up in the future. They are all characterized by violence. The ram dominates other unspecified animals; the goat tramples the ram. Its horn is broken off, and the cycle of violence goes on and on.

The focus, however, is on the violence of the small horn, which is directed against God and his hosts. The small horn attacks the formal worship of God’s people, and thus this violence is a new level of horror that cannot go unanswered.

(2) A specific time of deliverance is announced. Daniel 8 gives a limit to the time in which the small horn can work its devastation: 2300 evenings and mornings. We noted above the difficulty of determining the precise length of time this represents. In Daniel’s words, “it was beyond understanding” (v. 27). It is this theme we will explore in greater detail in the Contemporary Significance section, so we reserve further discussion until that time.

(3) Repentance leads to deliverance. This theme is absent or at least subdued in this chapter. There is ambiguity in the sentence in verse 12, “Because of rebellion, the host of the saints and the daily sacrifice were given over to it [the horn].” Is the rebellion that causes the turmoil the rebellion of the people who are thus punished by the small horn, who would then be God’s unknowing tool of judgment? Or is the rebellion the assault of the small horn on God, which has evil consequences for his people? We cannot know for sure, but even if the former (which I think is less likely) is true, it is still the case that the present chapter (as opposed esp. to ch. 9) focuses more on the atrocities directed against God and his hosts than on any sin that holds God’s people culpable for their suffering.

(4) A cosmic war stands behind human conflict. In historical retrospect, we can assert with great certainty that the climactic battle described in this chapter as instigated by the small horn is the persecution of the Seleucid king Antiochus IV against observant Jewish people in the mid-second century B.C. However, the prophetic description of this future event makes it clear that more is going on behind the scenes. We await chapter 10 for an even more dramatic disclosure, but we already get an overture to the theme that a spiritual conflict stands behind the earthly one. It is not Antiochus versus the Maccabees alone, but it is a little horn who presumes to be a god who fights against the Prince of princes and his starry hosts. A cosmic battle is ultimately at issue here. A fuller discussion of this theme is found in chapter 10.

With the god-like pretension of Antiochus, we also see how readily he can become a symbol for all those who in their overweening pride seek to replace God on the throne of the universe. Of course, Satan was the first to attempt this rebellion against his Creator, but Christians know that someone is coming who will seek to replace God and will help instigate the events that lead to God’s final redemptive intrusion into human events. Later, we will explore how Antiochus becomes an apt symbol for the one Christians know as the Antichrist.

(5) Judgment is certain for those who resist God and oppress his people. The vision itself ends with a rather subdued statement of the downfall of the small horn. The bulk of the description of the small horn’s career is on its seeming successes. It is only in answer to the question “how long” this wicked devastation will be allowed to continue that the angel says simply, “It will take 2,300 evenings and mornings; then the sanctuary will be reconsecrated” (v. 14).

As already noted, the statement is forceful, but still not greatly developed. The small horn, Antiochus and all he represents, will be certainly and definitively destroyed, but “not by human power” (v. 25). That is, God himself will ultimately bring Antiochus down.

(6) God’s people, downtrodden in the present, will experience new life in the fullest sense. “The sanctuary will be reconsecrated” (v. 14)—stated as a simple statement. When God defeats the forces of evil represented in Antiochus, it will result in a restoration of the temple.

The temple was more than a building; it was a symbol of God’s presence with his people, hence a source of life and hope. Its desecration at the hands of Antiochus was an assault against God and cause for despair among the faithful. But the restoration of the temple meant a new life, the possibility of intense fellowship with God once again. We will see in chapter 12 that this too anticipates even greater realities than temple worship. There we learn that the faithful can hope for resurrection and a blessed eternal life in the presence of God beyond death itself.

Contemporary Significance

OUR STRATEGY FOR treating the major themes that echo throughout the second half of Daniel calls on us to treat the second one (“the announcement of a specific time of deliverance”) here. For a treatment of the other five themes, consult the Contemporary Significance sections of chapters 7, 9, 10, 11, and 12.

Each unit in the apocalyptic section of Daniel contains some kind of chronological notice. In chapter 7, we learn that the saints will be handed over to the climactic king for “a time, times and half a time” (7:25). In chapter 9, we get the infamous “seventy weeks of years” (9:25–27). In chapter 12 (chs. 10–12 is a single unit), we read the enigmatic statement that the time between the abolishment of the sacrifice and the setting up of the abomination of desolation will be “1,290 days,” followed by the even more enigmatic statement, “Blessed is the one who waits for and reaches the end of the 1,335 days” (12:11–12). While each of these passages will be treated in its own contexts, here we discuss the general issue of how these passages apply to us today.

Numbers in apocalyptic literature. Daniel is not the only apocalyptic book that contains provocative calendrical numbers. Most notable is the controversial reference in Revelation 20:3 to the thousand-year binding of Satan. The debate over this passage has caused debate among sincere Christians for many years. Is it to be understood as a literal millennium to begin at some date in the future, or is it a symbolic number standing for the period of time between the first and second coming of Christ? These two camps are known as amillennialism and premillennialism.

Our comments will have ramifications for this debate, though we will not address it directly. Our concern here is to inquire what effect Daniel’s chronological statements are supposed to have on us living on the eve of the third millennium A.D.? Are they pointers to the date of the return of Christ or do they intend to communicate another message to us?

Date-setting the Return. It is important to address this issue at the present time because the press is filled with reports that apocalyptic speculation is on the rise because of the shift of millennium. Further, the church is constantly bombarded with claims that someone has finally figured out the difficult apocalyptic numbers and has determined that we are living in the period of the end. We hear often that there is only a limited amount of time before Christ returns and history will come to a dramatic end, which is usually characterized as a period of violence.

In early 1994, I debated Harold Camping of Family Radio. Mr. Camping had faithfully been teaching the Bible virtually every night for the past thirty years. He had built up a faithful following over those years by offering biblical teaching on many important theological and practical issues. While his teaching could be characterized as overly dogmatic on certain controversial issues like divorce, he did not have a reputation for the sensational. In addition, he was an advocate of Reformed theology, from which school of thought usually emanated rather reserved teaching about the end times. Thus, when he published a book in 1993 in which he claimed to be able to unseal (Dan. 8:26; 12:9) the apocalyptic teaching about the time of the return of Christ, it generated a furor in churches not used to such speculation.20

At the time I was teaching a seminar on “How to Interpret Prophecy” with Ray Dillard, my colleague at Westminster Theological Seminary. After the publication of Camping’s book, we started to get a lot of anxious questions about the validity of his claims. Moreover, people in my own church became intrigued and a few even were persuaded by his arguments that Christ was going to return in September 1994.

It quickly became obvious to me that this was more than an interpretive debate. It had a dramatic effect on people’s lives. One person I know drove his credit card balance to the max and got into serious financial trouble. His response? “Who cares! In a few months, Christ is coming again, so I don’t have to worry about not paying my bills.” Another friend was having serious marital problems. His wife had left him and the children. When I went on a pastoral call to visit him, I asked him if he had made any attempts to speak to his wife about their problems. His response? “No, I don’t need to. In a matter of months, Christ is coming again and my problems will disappear.” These are just two of the horror stories that I heard over the months preceding September 1994 from those who were persuaded that Mr. Camping had found the key to the difficult chronological notices in the apocalyptic teaching of the Bible, including Daniel.

When I debated Mr. Camping, it was May 1994, about four months from the date he had put forward as the time Christ would return. When I arrived at the location for the debate, I was completely floored. I was used to doing seminars on the Bible and getting good-sized groups of people interested to learn more about principles for interpreting prophecy, but I was not prepared for the huge group that had assembled to hear a discussion with the man who said that he had the date for the return of Christ figured out.

Of course, I could understand that Christians would be vitally interested in when their Lord was going to return again to “wipe away every tear” (Rev. 7:17; cf. 21:4), but didn’t they know that the Jesus they were expecting also taught clearly, “No one knows about that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, not the Son, but only the Father” (Mark 13:32)? How could some man or woman claim to know what Jesus himself said was hidden from him?

In one sense I was surprised, but in another I was not. I am, of course, using Mr. Camping as an example of a phenomenon that has happened again and again throughout church history. Countless claims have been made that someone has figured out that the Bible teaches an exact time for Christ’s return. As a matter of fact, one scholar’s research has numbered over two hundred such claims since 1945 alone!21 Thus, my anecdote must not be taken as a critique of Mr. Camping alone but of the whole enterprise of using apocalyptic as a tool for figuring out when Christ is coming again. Date-setting is not an appropriate contemporary use of apocalyptic literature. That is the burden of my argument in this section.

Misuses of apocalyptic. Before continuing with my argument, let me point out that there are two misuses of apocalyptic in this way. (1) Mr. Camping represents the claim that one can use the Bible’s apocalyptic chronology as a calendar to argue for a precise date for Christ’s return. In answer to my challenge based on Mark 13:32, Mr. Camping coolly responded, “I don’t know the day or the hour, I know the month and the year.” This statement, of course, is a complete misunderstanding of Jesus’ intention in that verse.

Now we might wrongly believe that this approach to the issue takes care of itself in the long run, and indeed it sometimes does—eventually. When I spoke to the group in May (which was mostly made up of his already convinced followers), I began by saying, “I know that I can’t convince most of you today, but I want you to have something to think about in October.” But when October came, Mr. Camping, in his radio broadcasts, while shaken, held out for the calendar year. When 1994 turned into 1995, he suddenly had the insight that the Bible meant the “Jewish year,” which ended in the spring of 1995. When the second half of 1995 came, he cited the example of Jonah, who announced the demise of Nineveh only to have God spare that city. In other words, he wasn’t wrong; God in his compassion for the lost just delayed his return.

Similar strategies of reinterpretation may be seen throughout history, perhaps most notably after the apparent failure of William Miller’s prediction of Christ’s return sometime during the Jewish year that ran from March 21, 1843 to March 21, 1844. When this date passed, a slight miscalculation was discovered, which led to a new date, October 22, 1844. There was tremendous disappointment when that date passed, but Miller’s influence did not. Instead, a whole new movement developed from this Baptist minister’s predictions. A group withdrew from the mainstream church to form another denomination, which we know today as the Adventist movement. Even today Adventist theologians argue that something important happened in 1843, a kind of anticipatory fulfillment of Daniel’s prophecy in Daniel 9.22

(2) But there is another type of misuse of these materials that must also be addressed. Only rarely does someone pick a precise date for the fulfillment of these chronological statements in Daniel and Revelation. The more typical pattern is the claim that the Bible teaches that, while we cannot pick a date, all the signs are pointing to the end within our lifetime. In our own time, the most well-known advocate of this reading of apocalyptic literature is Hal Lindsey.

As a senior in high school and not yet a believer, the first Christian book I ever read was Lindsey’s The Late Great Planet Earth. Nowhere does the author pick a date. He wisely listens to Christ’s teaching on that point. However, one cannot read his book without thinking that Christ must return before the mid–1970s. Everything was poised for the end of existence. Nuclear arsenals were just waiting for the button to be pressed. World food resources could not last more than a few more years. The environment would kill us before a few years were out. The end was near; the signs of the time were in full play.

This leads to an important issue. The Jesus who told us we could not know the day or the hour also told us to look for the signs of the time (cf. Mark 13). The latter days will be marked by earthquakes, wars and rumors of wars, false messiahs, and the appearance of the antichrist. When the gospel has been preached to all the nations, then we will be on the edge of the consummation. Such indications will alert us to the fact that Christ is about to return.

Perhaps of all the events in recent history that most make us think that our time is that special time has been the rebirth of the nation of Israel, the location of so many great redemptive events. I vividly remember my first visit to Israel in 1976, overlooking the Megiddo Valley (biblical Armageddon). The tour guide pointed out the military airfield below and commented on the fact that before the first generation of the new nation passed, the great final conflagration would take place right there in the valley below us. It is significant for me to think that the year I am writing these comments is the fiftieth anniversary of the birth of the nation of Israel, and most have understood the reference to a generation as being no more than fifty years.

But should the signs of the times be understood in this way? If so, what sense did it make for Jesus in the same breath to tell his followers (Mark 13:33–36):

Be on guard! Be alert! You do not know when that time will come. It’s like a man going away: He leaves his house and puts his servants in charge, each with his assigned task, and tells the one at the door to keep watch.

Therefore keep watch because you do not know when the owner of the house will come back—whether in the evening, or at midnight, or when the rooster crows, or at dawn. If he comes suddenly, do not let him find you sleeping. What I say to you, I say to everyone: “Watch!”

To put it bluntly, why should they—why should we—watch unless we see the signs of the time?

But note that every generation has seen the signs of the time. This is why we are tempted, particularly when we have not listened to Jesus’ clear teaching about not knowing the precise time, to think that our time is that special time.

I will not address every one of those signs,23 but what age has not experienced earthquakes, wars, and rumors of wars? If there seem to be more wars and more earthquakes, could that not be because global communication is now possible and more immediate? What age has not recognized the Antichrist among them? After all, there are a lot of people, some of them satanically evil and powerful, who are “against Christ.”24 And what is the criterion for reaching every nation (or, as some argue, “people group”)? Is it when one person, or more than 50 percent, or everyone in a nation/people group has heard? These are unanswerable questions.

The signs of the time do not intend to tell us that we are living in the shadow of Christ’s return, but rather to remind us that we live in the last days, the days between the first and second coming of Christ. When we hear of an earthquake, we are not to say, “The time is nigh.” Rather, we are to remind ourselves that we are still on this side of the consummation. We are to remind ourselves to be prepared, because Christ will appear “like a thief in the night” (1 Thess. 5:2).

That leads us back to the function of the highly symbolic numbers in Daniel and elsewhere, which are so difficult to figure out. Their purpose is not for date-setting but for comfort. They remind us that God knows what he is doing. God is sovereign and has set a limit on how long the present evil world will oppress us. These facts should comfort us by reminding us that God is in control of the situation.

I submit for our consideration that the misuse of these apocalyptic dates is an attempt to wrest control from God and place it firmly in our own sinful grasp. But the result is disruption in the church and in our lives. Such vain speculation leads, as in the case of the people I mentioned above, to a complete disregard for present realities. God calls us to live in the present while waiting with hope for the future.