Abstract
Daniel 12 was addressed to a nation in crisis, a period of unspeakable oppression of the Jews under Antiochus IV Epiphanes in the second century BCE. This king, who considered himself divine, had desecrated the Jerusalem temple, the dwelling-place of God, turning it into a pagan shrine. There had been a vicious civil war (167–164 BCE), following centuries of foreign domination, and the persecution of the faithful Jews was ongoing. Worship and sacrifice in Jerusalem had come to a temporary close, and the observance of festivals and circumcision was prohibited. The “end of days” must have seemed a consolation. An escalation of present troubles often has the result of heightening human longing for divine intervention, rescue, and transformation.
The book of Daniel models what preachers aspire to do: turn to Scripture and try to make sense of a community’s past and present experiences, and to shape hopes for the future in its light. Although perhaps one of the most difficult genres in Scripture to preach on, apocalyptic literature such as we find in Daniel 12 (dealing with things that have been “uncovered” or “revealed”) can speak to contemporary obsessions with (and uncertainty about) the end-time, and fears about the ultimate destruction of humanity. Such anxiety over our legacy in terms of environmental pollution, advancing technological knowledge without concomitant wisdom, and the mysteries of non-human figures are witnessed in films such as Independence Day, Armageddon, The Day After Tomorrow, WALL-E, Goodbye World, and The Colony, to name but a few.
In response to the fear and uncertainty that are explored in these films, there is an almost strident certainty about the conclusion to Daniel. Like other passages in the Bible that affirm God’s judgment, as well as mercy, it needs to be understood in its context. The words spoken to Daniel in the vision are for those facing potential martyrdom, and these are promised both judgment of the wicked and vindication for the righteous—those still alive, and those who have already died. At a time of huge political upheaval and unrest in so many parts of the world, this text from Daniel speaks words of reassurance that God is sovereign: God has ultimate control over all powers and leaders in both human and heavenly spheres.
Two characteristics of this passage are irony and ambiguity. Daniel 10–12 artfully blurs distinctions between past, present and future, and between earthly and heavenly figures and events. This invites reflection on the nature of human history set on a cosmic stage and exhorts readers to evaluate their actions in this light, with the underlying rhetorical question, “Who is like God?”
Chapter 12 is an epiphanic (revelatory) vision of Daniel that concludes the episode that began in chapter 10, a revelation of what will happen to Daniel’s people “at the end of days” (10:14). The “man clothed in linen” provides Daniel with a historical “map” from the Persian empire to the fall of the Seleucids (10:21–11:45), replete with details of assistance by heavenly powers by each nation’s tutelary angel, and offers assurance of a final just reward for faithfulness after an intense period of suffering.
The first four verses of ch. 12 typically are read with the previous chapter, concluding the broad sweep of history by arriving at the end time. Here, for the first time in the Hebrew Bible, is an unambiguous reference to individual resurrection and judgment with a distinction between the fate of those who will awake “to everlasting life” and others to “shame and everlasting contempt” (v.2). The imagery here should not be pressed too hard. It should be read as a vision of hope and reassurance, rather than as a theological treatise or literal prediction. The writer was not interested in outlining the precise details of individual resurrection. It is a vision that anticipates the transformation of present suffering—a transformation that will also include those who have already perished in the conflict. The writer is seeking to communicate that God is faithful, and that those who have been faithful will be vindicated.
The rest of the chapter can be treated as an epilogue (perhaps by a later hand), as it recalculates the time of the end, “when the shattering of the power of the holy people comes to an end” (v.7). It goes on to promise understanding to the wise in contrast to the wicked, and an exhortation to Daniel to rest, for he will be rewarded at the end of the days.
The rhetorical power of 12:1–4 needs to be understood within the context of Daniel’s ironic interpretation of history in the previous chapter. Some ancient Near Eastern texts known as the Akkadian prophecies present a similar survey of history to the one we find in Dan 11, with a focus on a particular king’s rule, in order to legitimate that king’s reign. In adopting a similar style, with the opposite purpose, Daniel subverts Antiochus’s power. In this exposition of human history, Daniel plays with one of the themes that runs throughout Scripture: the reversal of status and power of the poor and oppressed by the God who exalts the humble (e.g. 1 Sam 2:1–10; Isa 52:13). The ones who had been persecuted, martyred, and shamed in the eyes of the powerful, were the ones who would be raised to eternal life, themselves receiving the legacy that the king sought after.
Daniel’s people will be delivered by Michael, their protector, the divinely appointed “great prince” (12:1). There is a reason for naming the angel Michael here—in Hebrew it means “Who is like God?” The king who wanted to be like God, who set himself up as a divine figure, inscribing his coins with the title “King Antiochus, God manifest,” will die with no helper; he has no one on his side who can come to his aid (11:45).
There is an ambiguity about the visionary figures described in Daniel 10–12 that invites us to consider the interplay between the human and divine figures, and between the human and divine realms. There is much debate about the identity of the “man clothed in linen” (10:5; 12:6). He has been identified as the angel Gabriel from ch. 9 as “one like a son of man” from Dan 7:13, leading to christological interpretations in the early church. The very human appearance of the angelic beings, together with their human titles such as “prince” serves to highlight the rhetorical force of Daniel’s message to the righteous: those who are wise, and those who lead others to righteousness are promised astral immortality (v.3), an ironic contrast to Antiochus, who so strongly desired that for himself. They will indeed shine like the stars, playing an angelic role in the heavenly realm, by leading and teaching others in wisdom and righteousness, as Daniel has done.
Human affairs in Daniel are thus set on a cosmic stage, which simultaneously gives them more significance, and also gives the assurance that higher powers are involved. How often do we act as if the current political struggles embody spiritual ones, or that our own actions do not have cosmic consequences? At other times it may well feel that contemporary political events are caught up by principalities and powers (Eph 6:12) that are well beyond our ability to control. This can lead either to despair or to a recognition that the cosmic struggle in human history is still being played out, even though the final victory has already been won (John 16:33).
The result of Daniel’s vision is an understanding of the past in the light of Scripture, a comforting hope for future justice, and an ethical exhortation to wisdom and faithfulness in the present.