The news lately has been full of numbers. The stock market Dow Jones average closed above 14,000 for the first time since October 2007, very close to its all-time high of 14,164. Skeptics shrug it off, though, and remind us how that high from 2007 was followed by a long, steep decline. TV commentators tell us that advertisers paid between $3.8 and $4 million for each 30 second commercial airing later today during the Super Bowl. Skeptics dismiss that fact, noting that’s a lot of money wasted on trying to sell Doritos or Bud Light. The human tendency is to be fascinated with wealth, power, and success, however it is quantified. But other voices are also heard, muttering from the margins and dismissing the celebrities, the big-spenders, and the jackpot payoffs as only passing fads shaped by unrealistic expectations.
When the journey of life offers us the choice between optimism and pessimism, there are actually three paths we can follow. We can put on rose-colored glasses and, contrary to the old saying, insist that, yes, all that glitters is gold. We can decide to do all we can to get all we can for as long as we can. But what happens when the stock market crashes and the bubbles burst? Well, perhaps then we follow path #2: the route of Stoicism. Stoics recognize that in this life there are times of prosperity and times of struggle. It is like the words of the old preacher of the book of Ecclesiastes: There is a time to be born and a time to die; a time to build up and a time to break down; a time to weep and a time to laugh. There’s a similar legend associated with King Solomon. Supposedly, near the end of his life, he had a ring made – one that was endowed with strange powers. Whenever Solomon was unhappy, all he had to do was put it on to find joy again. Whenever he was happy, all he had to do was to put it on to find himself pensive and less giddy than before. What was its secret? Three Hebrew words were inscribed on it: “Gam ze yaavor – This, too, shall pass.”1
On the first path we are attracted to big numbers, power, success and prosperity. The second path relied on the message of the Stoics. Since any glass can look both half full and half empty at the same time, we need to learn how to survive both good times and bad times. But there’s a third path available to us, one which was well-described in the drama involving King Nebuchadnezzar, the prophet Daniel, and their royal parlor game of dream interpretation.
The story in Daniel 2 involves a Babylonian ruler who bore out the truth of Shakespeare’s phrase: “Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.”2 King Nebuchadnezzar’s spirit is troubled because he’s been having ominous dreams at night. He summons his wise men, magicians and enchanters, but none can help him until at last, a Hebrew prisoner is found who can interpret the King’s bad dreams. All this has a lot in common with the story in Genesis about Pharaoh’s bad dreams that were eventually interpreted by the young Hebrew prisoner named Joseph.3 Now in that story, Joseph predicted seasons of plenty followed by seasons of famine, but Daniel was far less even-handed here. He knew that Nebuchadnezzar had dreamt of a huge statue – think of the Statue of Liberty or the ancient Colossus of Rhodes – but a statue made of different materials: gold, silver, bronze and iron. If you’re really into ancient church history, you can read about how the history of Israel between the time of the Babylonian exile (6th ct. before Christ) and the time of persecution in which the book of Daniel was written (2nd ct. before Christ) involved a succession of four worldly kingdoms: the Babylonian Empire, with King Nebuchadnezzar as the gold standard at the head of it. Then the lesser, silver glory of the Medes of ancient Iran, followed by the bronze strength of Cyrus of the Persians, and lastly, the iron-fisted power of Alexander the Great and his Greek empire. But in this particular bible story, Daniel describes for Nebuchadnezzar how the four future dynasties will all crumble and be destroyed. Why? Because the entire political structure of precious metals rested upon feet of clay.
Feet of clay. It’s a phrase we invoke when remembering that no one is perfect; and that sometimes people with big reputations are like statues whose base is made of fragile clay. One bad move and the whole thing comes crashing down. To think of “feet of clay” is to go through life with a healthy dose of humility. Not believing your own press releases. Not believing you’re irreplaceable because that’s precisely when you end up getting replaced.
Now, if that was all Daniel had to offer, this bible story wouldn’t provide much nourishment for our spiritual diet. We know we’re imperfect; we know that we mess up and have feet of clay. What else are we supposed to take away from Nebuchadnezzar’s bad dreams? Hopefully, we come away with Daniel’s third approach for faithful living. If the first option is a shallow optimism chasing after power and wealth, and if the second option is a Stoic indifference that cynically shrugs off both life’s rain clouds and its sunny days, the third option humbly stands firmly grounded in the present while looking with hope and confidence toward the horizon of God’s kingdom, God’s power, God’s plan for this world.
Daniel did several things right. He never claimed that his own wisdom was the source of his ability to interpret Nebuchadnezzar’s dream. He always pointed away from himself and acknowledged that God was the true source of all wisdom and the real revealer of mysteries. Second, he did not hesitate to name the feet of clay present in every political and earthly power. All fall short. All human institutions are imperfect – including the church – just as all humans are imperfect – including each of us. But that should never be our final word. Daniel told about a stone not quarried by human hands, a divine stone able to smash the idol’s clay feet and make the statue fall down. And another kingdom, not of gold, silver, bronze or iron, would be established in the land – in our land. Another time would unfold – one eternal in ways that our kingdoms can never be eternal.
To understand this new, heaven-sent time, you have to move from the language of Daniel to the language of gospel. For in the fullness of time, one was born and lived and taught and healed who was heralded as the real king of kings, the cornerstone whom the builders rejected but upon whom the entire structure now rests. This Jesus of Nazareth – not Nebuchadnezzar or Cyrus or Alexander the Great – but Jesus was one whose face would never grace a coin minted to serve an earthly nation yet whose story has been told to the four corners of the earth.
What Christianity offers is a different vision, a different focus for life now and life to come. Its pathway is true; it is realistic; it is hopeful. Just like Daniel of old, along this path our dreams and night sweats and anxious minds gain an interpretation of faith that is true and trustworthy. Just like Nebuchadnezzar of old, we come to understand that our statues and accumulations of wealth and weapons and worldly-wisdom are ultimately built upon feet of clay. And just like the ancient Jews and people of Israel long ago came to understand, the horizons of faith stretch far beyond what we can see here and now – on this side of the veil dividing life and death. For the one who is our rock and our redeemer died and was raised so that we might see further, act sacrificially, and believe with all our heart, mind, soul and strength that God is good; God’s mercies endure forever.
You would be surprised how often we choose the path of “following the money,” believing the hype, and telling ourselves that the good times will never change. You might be surprised to recognize how often we choose the path of Stoicism, of just getting through the day, of keeping our heads down, our noses to the grindstone, and just trying to ride out the storm so we can see another day. But today our story has been re-interpreted by Daniel. He points to surprising things: away from us and toward the living God in whom all things are possible. He points to clay feet on us all, even as his prophetic words call to mind the New Testament prophet, John the Baptist, who pointed down and said, There is one coming whose sandals on his feet I am not worthy to untie. Daniel also points to statues of history that come crashing down once struck by a stone hewn by heavenly hands, the One who is our rock and our redeemer – Christ Jesus who endured the darkest place imaginable in this world and then was raised so we could all see a bright horizon of resurrection light.
This is a different path to follow, but choose it this day. It is one laid out in front of you. Take some nourishment for the journey. Notice that we take it together – that lots of folks the world over take bread and wine together. Allow communion words of welcome, of grace and forgiveness echo once more in your ears. Close your eyes and imagine a fresh start down the path of faith. Then open your eyes. God – Christ – Spirit are with you now and always. And that’s no dream.
AMEN