1IN THE THIRD year of Cyrus king of Persia, a revelation was given to Daniel (who was called Belteshazzar). Its message was true and it concerned a great war. The understanding of the message came to him in a vision.
2At that time I, Daniel, mourned for three weeks. 3I ate no choice food; no meat or wine touched my lips; and I used no lotions at all until the three weeks were over.
4On the twenty-fourth day of the first month, as I was standing on the bank of the great river, the Tigris, 5I looked up and there before me was a man dressed in linen, with a belt of the finest gold around his waist. 6His body was like chrysolite, his face like lightning, his eyes like flaming torches, his arms and legs like the gleam of burnished bronze, and his voice like the sound of a multitude.
7I, Daniel, was the only one who saw the vision; the men with me did not see it, but such terror overwhelmed them that they fled and hid themselves. 8So I was left alone, gazing at this great vision; I had no strength left, my face turned deathly pale and I was helpless. 9Then I heard him speaking, and as I listened to him, I fell into a deep sleep, my face to the ground.
10A hand touched me and set me trembling on my hands and knees. 11He said, “Daniel, you who are highly esteemed, consider carefully the words I am about to speak to you, and stand up, for I have now been sent to you.” And when he said this to me, I stood up trembling.
12Then he continued, “Do not be afraid, Daniel. Since the first day that you set your mind to gain understanding and to humble yourself before your God, your words were heard, and I have come in response to them. 13But the prince of the Persian kingdom resisted me twenty-one days. Then Michael, one of the chief princes, came to help me, because I was detained there with the king of Persia. 14Now I have come to explain to you what will happen to your people in the future, for the vision concerns a time yet to come.”
15While he was saying this to me, I bowed with my face toward the ground and was speechless. 16Then one who looked like a man touched my lips, and I opened my mouth and began to speak. I said to the one standing before me, “I am overcome with anguish because of the vision, my lord, and I am helpless. 17How can I, your servant, talk with you, my lord? My strength is gone and I can hardly breathe.”
18Again the one who looked like a man touched me and gave me strength. 19“Do not be afraid, O man highly esteemed,” he said. “Peace! Be strong now; be strong.”
When he spoke to me, I was strengthened and said, “Speak, my lord, since you have given me strength.”
20So he said, “Do you know why I have come to you? Soon I will return to fight against the prince of Persia, and when I go, the prince of Greece will come; 21but first I will tell you what is written in the Book of Truth. (No one supports me against them except Michael, your prince. 11:1And in the first year of Darius the Mede, I took my stand to support and protect him.)
Original Meaning
IN DANIEL 10 we see the curtain pulled back a bit further so that we get an intriguing, yet mysterious glimpse of the heavenly realities that stand behind human conflict. This chapter is the first part of the final vision of the book of Daniel (which includes chs. 10–12). In general outline, this vision may be structured as follows:
1. Introduction to the Vision (10:1–11:1)
2. The Vision (11:2–12:3)
3. God’s Instructions to Daniel (12:4–13)
This three-chapter unit is the third major vision concerning future realities in the second half of Daniel. It supplements the visions found in chapters 7–8. Chapter 9, we have seen, is a prayer, but even that chapter ends with the prophecy of the seventy weeks of years. Thus, we are again reminded that the focus of the second part of the book is on the future. But even though this is true, God’s passion is to provide comfort to Daniel, and through him the faithful of his generation, in the midst of their suffering, alienation, and oppression.
To know that such a great salvation is coming in spite of the present circumstances cannot help but deeply encourage the godly. The passage continues to function with this intention to those who are living faithfully at a time far removed from that of Daniel. As we will observe, the prophecy continues to veil its revelation. It is more like a provocative glimpse at the future than anything a later reader can use to predict dates or specific events, but it is enough to serve its purpose: comfort and encouragement in spite of present suffering. Once again, therefore, for this entire section the purpose continues to be that of the whole book: In spite of present appearances, God is in control and will win the victory.
Daniel 10:1–11:1 serves as an introduction to the vision. It describes Daniel’s distraught state of mind, leading to intense prayer. In response to that prayer God sends a messenger. Below we will discuss the ambiguity concerning the supernatural appearance described in this chapter. Is one being or two beings standing before Daniel? The answer to this question, however, does not affect our understanding of the whole. God, at some cost, sends a messenger through to Daniel with a striking revelation concerning the future (cf. 11:2–12:3).
Before we get too far ahead of ourselves, however, let us turn our attention to 10:1–11:1 and examine the introduction to the vision under two headings: (1) a heavenly vision (10:1–9), and (2) a conversation with a supernatural being (10:10–11:1).
A Heavenly Vision (10:1–9)
CHAPTER 10 BEGINS similarly to the previous three chapters, with a date that sets when the events of the chapter occur: in the third year of Cyrus.1 Cyrus was the Persian emperor who conquered Babylon in 539 B.C., leaving Darius the Mede in charge. This date is surely to be understood as three years after he became king of Babylon, thus inheriting authority over the Jewish population there. The date is probably 536/35 B.C. Already some of God’s people have returned home under Sheshbazzar and Zerubbabel (Ezra 1–2). Many, however, decide to stay in exile, including Daniel. We are not given any reasons, but perhaps his advanced age plays into the decision. We know that God has further use for him in Babylon.
In any case, this was the year that Daniel receives his final and climactic vision, described in Daniel 10–12. Interestingly, in a parenthetical comment, Daniel’s Babylonian name, Belteshazzar, is cited.2 He has not been referred to by this name since chapter 5, and here is the only occurrence in the second half of the book. The reasons for this particular use escape us, but certainly it reminds us of Daniel’s life in the foreign court. Perhaps it is to remind us that even at the end of his life Daniel is still in exile.
The introduction to the appearance of the supernatural being(s) (v. 1b) describes the message’s major topic and asserts that it is “true” and understandable. The topic is war—“a great war” that is coming in the future.
Daniel then describes for us, the readers, what he was doing at the time of the reception of the vision. For three weeks up to that moment, he has been in mourning. From the later words of the supernatural being we understand that this period of mourning was accompanied by prayer for understanding (v. 12). During this three-week period he had abstained from meat and wine. This reference indicates that Daniel’s earlier abstention from choice food in favor of vegetables (ch. 1) was for a special short-term purpose and was not part of his long-term lifestyle. He denies himself in this case to gain a special hearing from the Lord.
Daniel also informs us that he did not use lotions during this time. The climate of the ancient Near East was hot and dry during much of the year and oils helped soothe the skin. But during a period of mourning such attention to personal comfort and even cleanliness was inappropriate and naturally neglected. Daniel was in a state of prayerful turmoil.
Then, on the twenty-fourth day of the first month,3 Daniel, standing on the banks of the Tigris River,4 receives a vision of a heavenly being that terrifies him. He has a human appearance, dressed like a priest in linen (Lev. 6:10) and wearing a belt of gold. His physical description looks more like a statue than an actual human being. His body is “like chrysolite, his face like lightning, his eyes like flaming torches, his arms and legs like the gleam of burnished bronze” (v. 6a). Furthermore, his voice booms “like the sound of a multitude” (v. 6b).
As many commentators have pointed out, the language that describes this heavenly being bears many similarities with descriptions of heavenly realities found in Ezekiel (esp. Ezek. 1). Christopher Rowland gives an excellent summary of the connections:
The first four words of Daniel 10:5 reveal very close contact with Ezekiel 9:2, though the overall impression given by the vision is of a closer connection with the first chapter of Ezekiel. The phrase “his loins” is found in Ezekiel 1:27 to describe the human figure, and the more explicit references to the different parts of the angel’s body in Daniel 10:6 seems to be a development of the more reserved outlook of Ezekiel. In the same verse the eyes of the angel are said to be “like flaming torches.” A similar phenomenon is said to be in the middle of the living creatures in Ezekiel 1:13. Whereas in Ezekiel 1:16 the wheels of the chariot are said to be “like the gleaming of a chrysolite,” in Daniel the word tarshish (chrysolite) is now transferred to the description of the body of the angel. The body and feet can be paralleled in Ezekiel 1:23 and 1:7 respectively, and the voice of the angel (Dan. 10:6) bears some resemblance to the phrase “a sound of tumult like the sound of a host” in Ezekiel 1:24. The phrase “like the gleam of burnished bronze” is quoted verbatim from Ezekiel 1:7, where it is used of the legs of the living creatures.5
Those around Daniel do not see the vision, but somehow they sense some great power because they immediately flee the scene and hide. The situation is reminiscent of Paul’s Damascus road experience (see Acts 9), where Paul’s companions also saw nothing, though they heard a sound and stood speechless. Daniel, however, sees and hears, and in response, he staggers and collapses. Indeed, he apparently faints with his face buried in the ground.
Full discussion of the identity of the heavenly appearance awaits the next section. However, our first thought may be that this is a theophany. After all, the language, though sometimes indirectly connected to God, has already been associated with the great throne/chariot theophany of Ezekiel 1. Later, we will develop a connection between Daniel 10 and Revelation’s description of Christ (cf. Rev. 1:15). Both the antecedent reference to Ezekiel and the later use of the imagery for Christ might lead us to the conclusion that the supernatural being standing before Daniel is divine. However, before we can conclusively assert that this is correct, we must proceed to the next section, where we hear a heavenly being speak.
A Conversation With a Supernatural Being (10:10–11:1)
VERSE 9, WHICH closed the previous section, reported that Daniel heard the figure dressed in linen speaking, but the content of his speech was not given there. Daniel’s response to the vision and the voice was to faint dead away. The present section opens with the first of three supernatural ministrations (see also vv. 16, 18). Towner aptly calls these three angelic touches “celestial first aid.”6 The first is the touch of a hand, which gives Daniel the strength to get up from the ground to all fours. He then addresses the prophet with words of encouragement, beginning with “you who are highly esteemed.” The Hebrew for this English phrase is really two words, ʿis-ḥamudot, the first noun being the common word for “man” and the second a noun derived from the verbal root ḥmd (best known as the main verb of the tenth commandment, “to covet”). Daniel is a highly desired, precious man, coveted by God.7 Indeed, this angelic visitation is for Daniel, so he should take encouragement.
With these words, Daniel receives courage enough to stand, though he is still trembling. The verb “trembling” in verse 11 is the hiphil participle of the verb rʾd. Earlier (v. 7), the men with Daniel were said to be overwhelmed with terror. Literally, the phrase used there should be rendered “great trembling [the noun ḥaradah] fell on them.” Trembling (whether described by the verb rʾd or the noun ḥaradah) characterizes those who come into contact with the supernatural realm.8
As the supernatural figure continues to speak with Daniel in verse 12, he again encourages the waning prophet. He begins with the straightforward command, “Do not be afraid.” We see this comment at the beginning of a number of such speeches in the Bible (Gen. 15:1; 26:24; Judg. 6:23; Luke 1:13; Rev. 1:17). He then explains that, though the divine realm heard and began responding immediately to Daniel’s prayers three weeks earlier, there was a delay because of a conflict, an obstacle in the form of the “prince of the Persian kingdom” (v. 13).
The supernatural speaker almost casually mentions the “prince of the Persian kingdom,” but questions immediately rise in our minds. Who is this “prince” who can resist a heavenly being? What is the nature of the conflict of which we get this tantalizing glimpse? And, once again, what is the identity of the supernatural being who addresses Daniel and his connection with the vision of the figure dressed in linen (vv. 5–6)?
Perhaps we should start with the last question. In the previous section, we observed that the language and imagery associated with the being dressed in linen draws us to other theophanies. Our first impulse, supported by Daniel’s reaction to the appearance, is to identify that figure with God himself. It is also most natural to associate this linen-clad figure with the one speaking to Daniel in the present section. Commentators like E. J. Young make this identification.9 However, other scholars rightly question such an association. After all, what power could resist God for twenty-one days, as the “prince of the Persian kingdom” apparently had done? Can we really imagine God being thwarted in his purposes so effectively, even if temporarily? With that in mind, Miller suggests that we are really dealing with two figures here: a theophany followed by an angelophany.10 Thus, God is not hindered, but rather his powerful, but not omnipotent angel.
Furthermore, in verse 13 we will learn that the supernatural being speaking to Daniel was unable to overcome the obstacle provided by the “prince of the Persian kingdom” until Michael comes to his aid. Are we to think that God is unable to overcome this hindrance without the help of one of his created angels? Doubtful to say the least, Miller goes on to identify the angel as specifically Gabriel, on the speculative assumption that Gabriel is the messenger angel, a kind of Hebrew Hermes; but we know so little of the details of the angelic world that such a naming is no more than an educated guess, an unnecessary one at that.
I am attracted to Miller’s suggestion that the two figures are different, the first being God and the second an angel, but I am also hesitant to be dogmatic about my affirmation of it. After all, there is no clear textual signal that tells us that a second figure has come into play with verse 10. It effectively solves a problem, but as such, we should hold it only as a possible hypothesis. In any case, we have a clear case of spiritual conflict. On the one side stands God’s powerful angelic army and on the other “the prince of the Persian kingdom.”
Who is this “prince of the Persian kingdom”? Calvin said that this was a reference to the human prince Cambyses.11 But how likely is it that Daniel sees God’s angels detained by a skirmish with Cambyses? No, these verses give us a hint at the cosmic battle that parallels the earthly struggles of God’s people. The “prince of the Persian kingdom” is a supernatural being who fights on behalf of that human kingdom. The Old Testament knows of such spiritual entities and events in other books besides Daniel, perhaps most notably in Deuteronomy 32:8–9
When the Most High gave the nations their inheritance,
when he divided all mankind,
he set up boundaries for the peoples
according to the number of the sons of God.12
For the LORD’s portion is his people,
Jacob his allotted inheritance.
The Bible here, we would argue, refers to God’s angelic creatures who make up his heavenly council as “the sons of God.” There are angels, in other words, “assigned” to different nation states. Such might also be implied in the warning found in Deuteronomy 4:19: “And when you look up to the sky and see the sun, the moon and the stars—all the heavenly array—do not be enticed into bowing down to them and worshiping things the LORD your God has apportioned to all the nations under heaven.” The same connection between rebellious human power represented in the state and evil cosmic powers may be seen in Isaiah 24:21–23:
In that day the LORD will punish
the powers in the heavens above
and the kings on the earth below.
They will be herded together
like prisoners bound in a dungeon;
they will be shut up in prison
and be punished after many days.
The moon will be abashed, the sun ashamed;
for the LORD Almighty will reign
on Mount Zion and in Jerusalem,
and before its elders, gloriously.
We must be careful not to speculate on the hints the Bible gives us, but that there are spiritual powers, good and bad, behind the various human institutions is a truth taught in the Old Testament and, as we will see in the Bridging Contexts and Contemporary Significance sections, in the New Testament as well.
In summary, the picture that emerges from Daniel 10:12–14 is that of a heavenly conflict. On the one side stands those spiritual forces that emanate from the Lord. The speaker, who is an unnamed angelic power (if not God himself) and Michael fight on God’s side. Michael, whose Hebrew name means “Who is like God?” is mentioned four places in the Bible besides here (Dan. 10:21; 12:1; Jude 9; Rev. 12:7). Throughout the Bible, he plays an important leadership role in God’s heavenly army. He is called “chief prince” and “archangel.” In a word, he is a powerful spiritual being. On the other side stands “the prince of the Persian kingdom,” who himself is powerful, but we are to understand that he is evil as well. He has tried to keep the heavenly messenger away from Daniel but has not succeeded, though (as we will see below) the fight is far from over.13
After describing the conflict that led to the delayed answer to Daniel’s prayer, the heavenly messenger announces the substance of his message, which will be delivered beginning with Dan. 11:2: “Now I have come to explain to you what will happen to your people in the future, for the vision concerns a time yet to come” (10:14). Some believe that the language here suggests that the vision will at some point address the time just before the end of history as we know it.14
Again, Daniel is overwhelmed by the vision and bows to the ground, unable to speak. Again, a supernatural being ministers to him by touching his lips so he can speak. Though this being is referred to with a phrase similar to that found in 7:13 (“one like a son of man”), we should not be too quick to identify the two, since the phrase could be used of any humanlike appearance of God or angels. The touch of the lips reminds us of the call of Isaiah (Isa. 6:7), though here the emphasis is on the granting of strength in the midst of weakness, not on cleansing. This touch only gives Daniel the strength, it appears, to express his weakness. Thus, another touch follows in verse 18, accompanied by exhortations not to be afraid and to be strong (v. 19). Thanks to the supernatural ministrations, the prophet announces that he is ready to receive the vision.
The present chapter division obscures the flow of the section. We have already pointed out that Daniel 10–12 are a unit. Granted that chapter divisions are necessary for such a long unit, the first one should have come either after 10:19 or after 11:1, not in its present place. In 10:20 the speech of the “one like a son of man” commences. In 10:20–11:1, the figure, probably an angel, gives a general overview of what is to come before outlining the details (the bulk of ch. 11). He is going to tell Daniel “what is written in the Book of Truth.” Collins is surely right that, from what follows, we are to understand that book as containing the course of future history as shaped by God. He is also correct to note that the concept of such a book, followed by a detailed reading of centuries that follow Daniel, has a strong deterministic flavor.
How one reacts to that idea depends to some extent on one’s attitude toward God, but within the world of the text, which we are invited to share, this is nothing short of gloriously good news. Remember that the people contemporary with this book and throughout most periods of history are the oppressed people of God, who see no human escape from their oppression. The fact that God has scripted history and that the rescue of his people is the punch line is cause for great optimism and celebration (see the Contemporary Significance sections of chs. 11–12).
The angel tells us that he will soon return to the fray. The conflict with the prince of Persia, whom we have argued is the spiritual evil that supports the human kingdom oppressing God’s people, goes on. After a while, it is implied, another spiritual power, the prince of Greece, will come. To use the language of chapters 7–8, another beast will come along. The fight will continue. But before the prophecy of the future goes on, the angel, perhaps here identifying himself as Gabriel (by allusion to Dan. 9:1), says that he has been fighting, with Michael, the prince of Persia since the very beginning (i.e., the first year of Darius the Mede). This reminds us, who tend to think of the Persians (who allowed God’s people to return to Judah) as much better than the Babylonians, that these new oppressors are also evil and need to be overcome. God and his angels announce that they will fight on behalf of their people.
Bridging Contexts
IN “THE NATURE of Apocalyptic Literature” in the Original Meaning section of chapter 7, we identified six major themes that run throughout Daniel 7–12. By way of review, these are:
• 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.
We have already established the fact that Daniel 10–12 stands as a single unit. Thus, we need not expect all six themes to be present in chapter 10. According to our announced schedule, here we will discuss the fourth theme concerning the cosmic war, which, of course, is the heart of our chapter. Before we do, however, I should mention that the first theme is clearly present in the chapter as well. Heavenly powers fight evil spiritual powers that are associated with the state, specifically Persia and Greece. In other words, Persia and Greece are revealed as more than just human evil, as horrible as that is, for the veil is pushed back a bit to see the spiritual horrors that stand behind their power.
Holy war in the Old Testament. To more fully understand the cosmic war that lies behind this human conflict, we must situate the content of this chapter in the broader story of holy war in the Old Testament. This will also provide the basis on which we grasp the connections with the spiritual warfare of the New Testament. Only a brief description of this incredibly pervasive and significant biblical theme can be given here,15 but we can at least sketch out a basic skeleton outline that will help us build a bridge from the ancient world of the Old Testament to the New Testament and ultimately our own situation.
Holy war is a term never found in the Old Testament itself.16 However, the term is useful because it describes the character of warfare found there. At the center of holy war is Yahweh, the divine warrior. God fights on his people’s behalf to give them the victory. Another way of stating the same truth is to say that God uses his people as a tool of his judgment against the evil of the world. We can see this impulse at work at the Red Sea (Ex. 15), the battle of Jericho (Josh. 6), the defeat of the Midianites at the hands of Deborah and Barak (Judg. 5), and the anticipation of the defeat of Nineveh (Nahum), to name just a few. It is not that Israel does not fight, but they know that their victory is not a result of their own power and strategy, but because of God’s fighting on their behalf.
The presence of Yahweh as the divine warrior explains many of the distinctive features of Old Testament holy war. Before a battle, Israel had to be sure that the conflict was God’s will (Josh. 5:13–15; 1 Sam. 23:1–6). They were not given carte blanche for warfare. This explains why the ark of the covenant was often taken along into the battle. The ark was the mobile symbol of God’s presence on earth. It explains too why the act of warfare took on the aura of worship, requiring the troops to be a cultically clean state. A soldier had to be as spiritually prepared to enter battle as he would to enter the holy precincts of the sanctuary. Warfare was an act of worship in the Old Testament.
After the battle, Israel’s response was to praise the Lord (Ex. 15). After all, they knew that God had won the victory. In those cases where Israel actually had the upper hand in terms of numbers or weapons technology, God insisted that they divest themselves of these advantages before they entered the battle for fear that afterwards they would praise themselves, not God. Many psalms found their original purpose in the celebration of holy war victory (Ps. 24; 98).17
But there was a flip side to this idea of holy war. Israel was not always the tool of God’s judgment; at times it was the object. W. Moran coined the term unholy war to describe those times when God turned his warring activity against Israel.18 This term is not felicitous, however, since any war with which God is involved is by definition holy. Moran also used the phrase reverse holy war; this is better, since Israel found itself, because of its disobedience, in a reversed situation, feeling the brunt of Yahweh’s anger. While anticipations can be noted (e.g., 1 Sam. 4–5), the most striking example of reverse holy war is the destruction of Jerusalem in 586 B.C. and is recorded by the author of Lamentations, who cries out (Lam. 2:4–5):
Like an enemy he [God] has strung his bow;
his right hand is ready.
Like a foe he has slain
all who were pleasing to the eye;
he has poured out his wrath like fire
on the tent of the Daughter of Zion.
The Lord is like an enemy;
he has swallowed up Israel.
He has swallowed up all her palaces
and destroyed her strongholds.
He has multiplied mourning and lamentation
for the Daughter of Judah.
These are just a few examples, both positive and negative from Israel’s point of view, where God pictures himself as a warrior in the Old Testament. Prior to Daniel 10, though, we should point out, Israel’s most recent experience was the latter—God as an enemy. Israel had been carried off into captivity, not as a historical accident, but rather at the command of Yahweh as the divine warrior.
Holy war in Daniel. The book of Daniel is written with this as a background. Yahweh in the distant past fought on Israel’s side when they were obedient. However, he also fought against them when they strayed. Where do they go from here? It is Daniel’s repentance on behalf of the people that triggers the divine response: “I am fighting on your behalf and will indeed be victorious! Your freedom from oppression will indeed be won once and for all.” We have seen this in Daniel 7, with the vision of the victory of the one like the son of man over the power represented by the beasts. We have seen this subtly asserted in the interpretation of the vision of Daniel 8, when it is said of the “master of intrigue” that “he will be destroyed, but not by human power” (8:25), as well as at the end of the prophecy of the “seventy ‘sevens’” (9:20–27), which states concerning the one who sets up an abomination of desolation that the end has been decreed for him (9:27).
In chapters 11–12, Daniel will describe this victory more clearly. But chapter 10 serves an important purpose by exposing the spiritual realities behind the wars of Yahweh up to this point. In the description of the historical battles throughout most of the Old Testament, the concentration is on the earthly. Certainly the heavenly forces that have supported Israel have been revealed, but not the spiritual powers on the other side.
But we should not be surprised. At its origin the spiritual nature of the conflict is clear. Genesis 3 introduces conflict into the world. Behind the rebellious decision for which Adam and Eve were responsible stands the instigation of the serpent. The serpent, as later Scripture (Rev. 12:9) makes clear, was not an ordinary animal, but rather an incarnation of the evil one, Satan himself. The conflict that emanates from Genesis 3 to the consummation anticipated in the book of Revelation is understood in spiritual terms according to the curse God places on the serpent (Gen. 3:14–15):
Cursed are you above all the livestock
and all the wild animals!
You will crawl on your belly
and you will eat dust
all the days of your life.
And I will put enmity
between you and the woman,
and between your offspring and hers;
he will crush your head,
and you will strike his heel.
The redemptive history that follows describes a conflict that flows from this curse between those who follow God and those who side with the serpent.19
Contemporary Significance
IN DANIEL 10 the veil is pulled back slightly, and we see the divine realities behind human conflict. As we situated the chapter in the context of the Old Testament as a whole in the previous section, we noted how deeply involved God has been in warfare. Here we are at the heart of one of the deepest difficulties that contemporary readers have with the Old Testament: How can God be so centrally involved in something so gruesome as warfare?
In addition, there is the sad fact that through the history of the church these texts have been used to justify warfare. How many lives have been lost in the name of a “holy cause”? From Constantine through the Crusades to modern American wars, the holy wars of Joshua and others have been used as justifications for violence against “godless heathens” or those with dangerous theologies. Perhaps most despicably we see certain fringe individuals and groups that claim the name of Christ to utilize violence in the name of defending “Christian” values in the midst of the culture wars. We need only cite the murder of an abortion doctor in Pensacola by an evangelical or the tactics of the Christian Identity Movement.
For most contemporary Bible readers, the holy wars of the Old Testament are an embarrassment. How can they have any contemporary relevance at all?
Holy war and the New Testament. Daniel’s picture of the warrior God in Daniel 7–12 pointed to the future. God was fighting on behalf of his people to be sure, but there was also a strong message that the decisive battle was yet to come; that is the note on which the Old Testament concluded and which reverberated through the prophetic silence of the intertestamental period. When that silence was broken with John the Baptist, he was simply continuing the hope expressed in Daniel for the coming intervention of the divine warrior who would bring evil to a violent justice (Matt. 3:11–12):
I baptize you with water for repentance. But after me will come one who is more powerful than I, whose sandals I am not fit to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor, gathering his wheat into the barn and burning up the chaff with unquenchable fire.
Jesus came to the Jordan, and John recognized him as the one about whom he had been talking. He baptized Jesus and soon thereafter was imprisoned by Herod. While in prison John began to hear reports about the ministry of Jesus, and these reports distressed him greatly. He did not hear of burning and threshing, but rather of healing, exorcisms, and preaching the good news. Where was the divine warrior? John responded to these reports by sending his disciples to interrogate Jesus: “Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?” (Matt. 11:3). Jesus took these visitors out with him while he did more of the same—healing, exorcising, and preaching. In doing so he was telling them that indeed he was the one John was anticipating. He is the divine warrior. However, he has come to intensify and heighten the battle. No longer will the battle be waged against the flesh and blood enemies of God’s people, but rather he will fight Satan himself.
Daniel 10 indicates in a way rarely addressed in the Old Testament that there was already a cosmic-spiritual dimension to the warfare of old. Now we see that Satan has become the clear object of divine battle. The irony of the gospel is that that battle is won, not through killing, but rather by dying. Jesus, the warrior, accomplished his great victory by dying on the cross.
Jesus put away human weapons of violence and commanded his followers to do the same when he rebuked Peter for using a sword to attempt to prevent his arrest on the eve of his crucifixion: “Put your sword back in its place … for all who draw the sword will die by the sword. Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and he will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels? But how then would the Scriptures be fulfilled that say it must happen in this way?” (Matt. 26:52–54).
Paul too understood the warlike character of the cross and reflected on Christ’s death by using military language. On the cross, Jesus “disarmed the powers and authorities” and “made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them” (Col. 2:15). In Ephesians 4:7–8, he spoke of the ascension by quoting an Old Testament divine warrior hymn (Ps. 68) to the effect that Jesus was leading a victory parade to heaven.
Jesus has completed and won the great conflict about which we read throughout the Old Testament, the battle begun in Genesis 3:15 and provocatively described in Daniel 10. But the victory is an already/not yet event. That is, the victory has been secured on the cross, but it still awaits its final denouement. Some scholars have likened the victory of the cross to the defeat of Germany at the battle of Normandy. After D-Day, the back of German power was broken in Europe and there was no doubt about the conclusion of the war. Nonetheless, battles still had to be fought and lives lost before the war would end.
We live spiritually between D-Day and V-Day. The victory has been won, but the fight is still real. The New Testament continues its use of military language to communicate both important truths: (1) We are in the midst of a tremendous battle with the forces of evil, and (2) the final victory is in sight.
The Christian’s holy war manifesto. Let us explore the first of these truths by citing what I call the Christian’s holy war manifesto, Ephesians 6:10–18:
Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints.
Many Christians neglect reading this passage on the basis of the Old Testament theme of the divine warrior, and our neglect can cause us to lose hope during the fury of the battle. When my boys were small, sometimes we would wrestle. They loved beating on their father until the tide turned and the old man suddenly experienced a surge of energy and overthrew all three attackers. The swing from victory to defeat brought a cry of consternation: “Dad, let us up! Let’s quit! Let’s play something else!”
The same is true when we stand dressed in our well-starched armor, Bible under our arm, ready to pounce on a problem. When the mud and blood begin to mingle together in an unearthly hue, it is important to know that God is still the divine warrior, who has already secured victory, no matter how tragically defeating this particular battle may appear.
We are to fight, just as Israel was to fight. But also like Israel, we need to recognize that we will have victory only as we allow God to use us. We are not to be passive; we are to “stand firm.” But our strength to do this comes only as we put on the “armor of God.”
Who is the enemy Paul is referring to in Ephesians 6? Our ultimate enemy is Satan and his demonic powers. Our struggle against him encompasses three fronts, and we should not underestimate our enemy’s strength. To do so will lead to the temptation to fight our battles in our own strength, and our own strength will lead to our quick and easy defeat. When we realize that we have no power to ourselves to fight the battles of life, we are driven to Jesus, our divine warrior. He is the One who provides us with the spiritual weapons we need to fight—truth, righteousness, the gospel of peace, faith, salvation, the Spirit, and prayer.
(1) The first front is the battle against evil “out there.” Most Christians do not need to be convinced that there is a lot of sin and evil in the world. Wickedness emanates from institutions and people (unfortunately from Christians as well as non-Christians), from ourselves (as we will discover in the third front), as well as from others. The following is just the tip of the iceberg.
Many Christians from Roman times to today have suffered at the hands of a wicked government. Christian martyrs through the ages testify to the potential wickedness of political institutions. One of many contemporary situations is the plight of a Ugandan Christian named Kefa Sempangi. I went to seminary with Kefa and heard his account firsthand. He has since published a book, A Distant Grief,20 in which he remembers his near death at the hands of one of then-president Idi Amin’s death squads and his subsequent flight to the Netherlands and the United States. But even after his return to Uganda in the post-Amin era, his life as a minister and a politician has been beset by further persecutions.
The medical industry, the heart of so much mercy and healing, is also one of the perpetuators of the abortion industry, and, as such, is an institution, like all other human institutions, tainted by the hand of the Evil One. One woman confided in me that as a teenager she turned to her doctor for help when she discovered she was pregnant. The doctor advised her that she needed an abortion and calmed her fears with the assurance that there was nothing wrong with the procedure. She has struggled with guilt-induced insomnia ever since.
My wife and I will never forget the call we got from the Yale University student clinic where we went to find out whether she was pregnant with our second child. The nurse told her, “You’re pregnant,” but before we had time to rejoice, the nurse asked my wife if she wanted an abortion. In this world torn by conflict, the human institution most dedicated to preserving human life finds itself destroying it.
Many, indeed all, other human institutions are similarly affected by the conflict between the divine and the demonic. I have been active in sports through the years. I have derived enjoyment and a healthier body because of it. But I can also testify on some levels there is a sports ethos that allows, and even encourages, the use of pain-deadening and muscle-enhancing drugs, which are ultimately life-threatening. My wife and I both sport bad knees, the direct result of coaches insisting that we start playing too soon after a minor injury. They were more interested in winning than in health.
Even the church as an institution has been the source of much pain and evil. It doesn’t take the obvious cases like the Spanish Inquisition to illustrate this point. We have all experienced the hardness of a dysfunctional church family at some point in our Christian life. One of the saddest moments of my life was when I was up for ordination. The denomination I belonged to had a liberal tendency, but I did not know much better since I was still a young Christian at the time. It was the denomination in which I grew up, and I felt attached to it. However, I was wise enough to go to an evangelical seminary because I knew I had to be taught by people who respected the Bible as God’s Word, something not true of this denomination’s seminaries.
About a year into my work, the ordination council called me to a meeting and told me that they would not ordain me because I attended an evangelical seminary and because I held certain biblical doctrines. What hurt me more than anything was the conversation I had with another person my age while I was waiting for the committee to meet with me. This man ridiculed me for my trust in the Bible and then proceeded to deny every doctrine I considered important to Christianity—the historicity of Jesus, the role of the Holy Spirit, the trustworthiness of Scripture, and the Second Coming. He, too, was meeting with the church council that day, but for a reason different from my own. He was being ordained on Sunday, and they were setting up the service for him! I felt like someone kicked me in the face.
These are just a few of the examples of societal forces and institutions that are the source of evil against which we should battle. But we all know that institutions are not abstract entities that exist independent of human involvement. Institutions are made up of people. We are talking about a spiritual battle with real people on either side.
(2) Another front is the fight to “win souls.” Opinions may differ, but I cringe every time I hear someone say, “I won a soul for Christ.” Perhaps it’s the arrogant voice that usually goes along with the claim. But I must admit that there is some truth to this old Christian expression. When we share the gospel with others, we are involved in warfare, just as real as, and indeed with longer lasting implications than, the battle of the Israelites against Jericho.
A careful study of the entire Bible indicates that evangelism replaces warfare as we move from the Old to the New Testament. That is, in the Old Testament, the predominant way of relating to the outsider (the non-Israelite) was to fight with real weapons. In the New Testament, the way we are to relate to the non-Christian is defined by Jesus in the Great Commission: “Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you” (Matt. 28:19–20).
Does not experience teach us that evangelism is often like a war? Some of our experiences are more explicitly warlike than others. There are plenty of Christians who can tell horrifying stories of real abuse as a result of evangelism. The main reason for this is that when we share the gospel with a stranger or friend, we are not just involved in a quiet clash of ideas with another rational human being. We are sharing the news of sin and redemption with someone who is on Satan’s side, whether that person is conscious of it or not.
If a person is not devoted to Christ, there is only one other alternative—he or she is devoted to Christ’s enemy. That is why Paul talks about baptism as a symbol of death. It is warfare. If a person becomes a Christian, one dies to the old self and puts on the new by “having been buried with him [Christ] in baptism and raised with him through your faith in the power of God, who raised him from the dead” (Col. 2:12).
(3) The battle on the third front is that between the “new self” and the “old self.” Jesus instructed us to take the beam out of our own eye before we take the speck out of our brother’s eye (Matt. 7:5). In this way, he was telling us that the battle is not only against others, it is also within ourselves. Facing the deeply embedded evil of our own hearts is where the most bitter fighting occurs. It’s like a civil war. Your enemy, your old self, is a dearly loved friend you really don’t want to kill. The apostle Paul perceptively shared the struggle that went on in his own heart, knowing that it is a struggle we all go through (Rom. 7:21–24a):
So I find this law at work: When I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within my members. What a wretched man I am!
Once we become Christians, we are no longer in Satan’s army; we are in Christ’s. We fight for the gospel, taking on Satan, our former commander-in-chief. However, there is a part of us that still acts as if we are part of this world rather than pilgrims looking forward to the realities of heaven. The Bible names this tendency the “old self” (Eph. 4:22; Col. 3:9) and tells us to cast it off and put on the “new self.” Theologians call this the process of “sanctification,” but that is just another way of saying that Christians should become more like Christ every day.
Whatever you call it, our Christian growth is a battle against Satan in our own hearts. This front, for most of us, is the hardest. It’s not easy to fight evil in another person. It may be tough for some of us to share the gospel with others. But it is grueling to face the dark, cold reality that we have to battle against our own vicious and destructive thoughts, emotions, and actions.
This is because deep down we really enjoy our sin and find any way we can to justify it in our eyes. I am not often emotionally down, but when I am depressed I need to have a scapegoat—God has given me too much work, my wife is ignoring me, my children are brats, my Little League team is uncommitted. I would much rather be happy than depressed, but at times like this, I would rather be depressed than to think that I have overcommitted myself to writing projects, been cold toward my wife, not disciplined my children sufficiently, and not taught my Little Leaguers how to hit or field.
As we engage in battle on this final front, we must remember that it is ultimately God against whom we struggle. It is not merely the new us that takes on the old us in our own power. The battle of the cosmos—the struggle between God and Satan—is waged in our very hearts, and the message of the Bible is absolutely clear: Nothing can stand before God in defiance and survive. This is the reason why the battle always goes to the advantage of the new self; it is God who fights for us. The Bible confirms that life is a battle. This is why God has revealed so much throughout its pages about his nature as a warrior and our participation in his army.
Our weapons. However, it is important to remember, especially as we focus in this commentary on an Old Testament book, that as we move from the Old Testament to the New Testament period, the warfare has shifted from a physical to a spiritual battle. It is one we must fight with spiritual weapons, not physical ones. That is, the teachings of Jesus do not allow us to hit an abortionist or bomb a clinic. We are not permitted to kidnap a potential convert and force him or her to listen to the gospel. And we should not whip ourselves (physically as some monks did in the Middle Ages) to discourage our sinning. Our weapons are prayer, faith, and bold love.
(1) Most of us think of prayer as a retreat from the action, not as an offensive weapon with which we attack the enemy. After all, when we want to pray, we usually seek out a quiet spot. We also hear and use the expression “let me pray about it” when we are not sure we want to do something we are asked to do.
In reaction against this, we must cultivate a mindset that sees prayer as a powerful tool by which to foil Satan’s schemes and destroy his handiwork. We are to see prayer as our principal means of communication with our divine war Commander.
In the war between Iraq and the allied forces who came to the aid of Kuwait, one of the largest of many discrepancies between the two sides was in the area of communication. The allies were in constant touch with each other and knew the enemy positions through the use of highly sophisticated technology. On their part, the front lines of the Iraqi armies knew little about their enemy’s positions and could not even communicate with their commanders in Baghdad. The result was a lopsided victory for the Allies.
We need to use prayer to ask our spiritual Commander to open our eyes to the conflict so we may see where the Enemy is located, and then to provide us with the strength to carry on the battle.
The curses of the psalms are a model of using prayer as a weapon. The psalmist in Psalm 69:24–25, 27 made some strong statements as he spoke to God about his enemies:
let your fierce anger overtake them.
May their place be deserted;
let there be no one to dwell in their tents.…
Charge them with crime upon crime;
do not let them share in your salvation.
While these psalms are models to us for prayer, they must be wisely used in the knowledge that the object of our warfare has shifted from flesh and blood enemies to spiritual ones. Our weapons must be spiritual, too. One concrete way the Christian can use prayer as a weapon against an abuser is to pray for his or her repentance.
(2) A second weapon of spiritual warfare is faith, a deep trust in the One who is our commander-in-Chief, Jesus Christ. Faith is multifaceted. One of the ways to think of faith is as a willingness to let go, to relax in the presence of someone who is good. A small child squeals with anticipation as her father lifts her above his head and gently tosses her into the air, catching her as she tumbles toward the ground. Such a child could scream and cry at being lifted and turn her little body into a stone-like, inflexible dead weight. Such a response would indicate a lack of trust. Faith may not take away all our fear or doubt, but it will enable us to know, at some deep level, that our Father is good and his purpose consistent with his character.
Faith, then, is an assertion of trust, even when our circumstances point in a direction that seems to call into question God’s goodness. Faith is vision of what cannot be seen, a knowing of something that is beyond verifiable human knowledge. It is an assent to the inner witness of the Spirit that continues to keep a flame alive in us after all our efforts to snuff it out have failed. Fundamentally, we know that he is capable and willing to bring the battle to a successful completion. Indeed, the Scriptures tell us that he has already accomplished the victory on the cross, and we have a preview of the final day in the book of Revelation.
One of the many lessons of the Vietnam War was the disastrous consequences of a lack of trust between soldiers and their commanding officers. Soldiers often did not trust the abilities of their officers, and there were even alarming reports of soldiers putting a bullet in the back of their officers during battles. A firm trust in God is incredibly important if we are to endure the day-to-day battles of life. We need to know that God is there in his power to encourage us to face the angry boss at work, our unrepentant spouse, or our disobedient children.
These are just two of the spiritual weapons which Ephesians 6 mentions. In closing I want to emphasize that the spiritual nature of our weapons does not mean that they are intangible. We are not to be passive. We are not called to love people, even those who hurt us, from a distance, but we are required to move into their lives to open the door to their repentance.
Territorial demons? Before shutting the door on our discussion of spiritual warfare, we must address the issue of engagement with supernatural enemies, specifically territorial demons. Is this a fourth front of our warfare? There is a growing call in some sectors of the church worldwide and in America today to engage in battle with demons that control specific geographical regions.21 The foundational text for such a strategy is Daniel 10, so it is vital for us at least to speak to the issue, if only briefly.
I must confess, as I discuss this volatile issue, that my experience in this area has not been extensive or encouraging. Biblically, I affirm the existence of the world of supernatural evil forces, and Daniel 10 in particular witnesses to the association in some sense of demonic powers with specific geographical regions. However, as I have emphasized above, this chapter gives us just the merest of glimpses, and it seems to me that advocates of spiritual mapping take the concept far beyond the limits of biblical revelation. Fortunately, much of their research into the demonic activity of a city really does help them uncover the ethos of a geographical area. They can see the sinful tendencies and atmosphere of an area as they move in to evangelize, but to seek to name and exorcize demons should not and, as far as I can tell from their writings, does not deflect from the task of moral persuasion as they present the gospel as a challenge to a particular culture.
Clinton Arnold has written an excellent analysis of the phenomenon known as “strategic-level spiritual warfare,” associated with C. Peter Wagner and others. In his book Three Crucial Questions About Spiritual Warfare,22 he both affirms and criticizes the practices of people who engage in a deliverance and spiritual-mapping ministry. He speaks from deep knowledge of Scripture, having written a number of scholarly studies of the biblical material as well as dialogued closely with Wagner and other practitioners. I recommend his book heartily for those who wish to probe this issue more deeply.
Perhaps the two most important conclusions that Arnold reaches in regard to the issue before us are these: (1) The Bible affirms demonic activity and the relationship between demons and specific geographical locations; (2) “of even greater significance … is the fact that the Bible nowhere narrates, describes, or instructs us on how, or even whether, we are to engage these high-ranking territorial spirits.”23 In regard to the second point, we should note that Daniel never engages or prays against the spiritual enemies about which the celestial beings speak. He leaves those matters to God.
In the midst of a controversial issue, we must not forget the central teaching of Daniel 10: the amazing truth that God’s people are not in the conflict alone. The Bible as a whole calls us to the life of a warrior in a world of conflict. But God does not send us out to fight on our own or even to pool our resources with other Christians. No, he sent his Son to first win the battle. He defeated evil by dying on the cross. He shows us that the way of victory is through love and sacrifice, not hate and greed. He gives us confidence to face abuse today because “our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us,” when he comes to rescue us for the last time (Rom. 8:18).