As the loud chant bellows out from the nearby minaret beckoning all to bow down in prayer, those around you pause whatever they are in the middle of doing to roll out their prayer rug. They kneel down in the same direction and the sea of random people involved in a variety of activities all around you quickly becomes an ocean wave, curving and swaying as arms and bodies are raised up and then curled back down again in prayer.
You stand out like a sore thumb.
Everyone else is on the ground kneeling in prayer while you are the lone standing figure, as if to announce to everyone around that you are a clueless foreigner. What do you do? Do you go with the flow and lower yourself to the ground, at the very least to avoid drawing attention to yourself? Do you go so far as going through the same motions as everyone else to blend in, even though you don’t worship their false god?
We can speculate and imagine the mix of emotions that might come over us in such a hypothetical situation. But in Daniel 3, when Nebuchadnezzar’s call and command to worship was sounded, there is no need for speculation over how the three displaced Israelites might have responded. The details of the account are clearly provided for us.
But before we get to their response, it’s important to know that they knew what they were getting into. Prior to their actions, Nebuchadnezzar’s warning had been communicated: “Then the herald loudly proclaimed, ‘Nations and peoples of every language, this is what you are commanded to do: As soon as you hear the sound of the horn, flute, zither, lyre, harp, pipe and all kinds of music, you must fall down and worship the image of gold that King Nebuchadnezzar has set up. Whoever does not fall down and worship will immediately be thrown into a blazing furnace’” (Daniel 3:4-6). It did not matter what religion a person practiced or what language he spoke, to choose not to worship the ninety-foot image of gold was to face imminent incineration.
The flames of jealously spreading from other officials ensured that word would quickly spread regarding the three foreigners who had the audacity to ignore the king’s command. Those three, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, were brought before King Nebuchadnezzar, who was beside himself that anyone would so brazenly disregard his command. He said to them, “Is it true, Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, that you do not serve my gods or worship the image of gold I have set up? Now when you hear the sound of the… music, if you are ready to fall down and worship the image I made, very good. But if you do not worship it, you will be thrown immediately into a blazing furnace. Then what god will be able to rescue you from my hand?” (v. 14-15). Talk about a terrifying threat!
But Nebuchadnezzar’s overconfidence would be outshined by the courageous confidence of the three men who stood up to him. “Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego replied to him, “King Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter. If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up” (v.16-18).
See how courageous they were! Compare their courage with today’s version of courage, where activists throw tomato soup or some other liquid on works of art. Where groups of people park themselves in the middle of the road. Where protests are organized and rallies are coordinated. How much real courage do such actions require?
But take note of the radical approach taken by the three. They said “No.” That was it. They didn’t have to coordinate some widespread effort. They didn’t rally the other exiled Israelites to join them in some major rebellious protest. They didn’t manufacture something online in an effort to make it viral.
They simply refused to heed a command to sin by worshiping an idol. Think of it: one of the most legendary of all Sunday school narratives – this account before us – was simply a matter of having the courage to say “no.” Before we jump right to the miraculous conclusion of this account, let’s just linger here a bit on the power of “no.”
Today (Reformation) has historically been a pretty big deal in the Lutheran church. We are observing the Reformation. It may be a relatively unfamiliar term to many, but Reformation refers to a period of church history often considered to have been set in motion by an event that took place on October 31, 1517. That was the date on which a monk named Martin Luther nailed his 95 Theses to the door of the Castle Church in Wittenburg, Germany. Through these theses, his intent was to establish points for discussion with the leaders of the church of his day over concerns he had about what was being taught and practiced.
Luther had been doing a “dangerous” thing: reading his Bible. Doing so allowed the Holy Spirit to bring to light legitimate concerns that weren’t lining up with the Word of God. At stake amidst these concerns was the very foundation on which the whole of Scripture stands: justification by grace alone, through faith alone, revealed through Scripture alone. The more the Reformation was fanned into flame through the words and writings of men like Luther and other reformers, the more the church of his day dug in its heels. It refused to acknowledge that it had not only drifted away from Scripture in its teachings, but was brazenly contradicting the clear teachings of the gospel, that we are not saved by our own works, but by faith in Jesus’ merits alone.
On numerous occasions, both formally and informally, Martin Luther was expected to take back his words and writings opposing the church so that he might remain in good standing. The most famously recorded incident was before the Diet of Worms, on which occasion he is famously quoted as saying, in response to the church’s demand that he retract and recant, “Here I stand. I cannot do otherwise. God help me. Amen.” If you allow me to paraphrase what Luther said and simplify it just a little bit, Luther said directly to the sacred and secular authorities who demanded his compliance, “No.” The refusal that three young Israelites in Babylon had boldly uttered before Nebuchadnezzar was boldly uttered before the highest authority of Luther’s day, too. “No.”
Yes, it takes great courage to say “No.” But there is also great power in “No.” And we don’t have to stand before princes or kings to utter it. In fact, it isn’t likely that any of us will ever find ourselves in that position. But that doesn’t make our “no” any less powerful. Your “no” to the social hour invitation after work that inevitably ends up with inebriated coworkers is powerful. Your “no” to your significant other’s invitation to cross the line sexually is powerful. Your “no” to another of your child’s club team tournaments because it’s on a Sunday morning is powerful. Your “no” to “just try” the drug everyone else around you is high on is powerful.
Your “no” is not nothing. It is much more. It is a yes to what is right. It is yet one step further removed from the edge of the abyss that sin beckons us to stumble over into unbelief. It is a yes to my identity as a believer and child of God who is walking in the light. It is a yes to the blessed paths of righteousness that hold out so much more for us than any invitation to sin ever can or will.
Notice also that the “no” of the three before Nebuchadnezzar did not need to be accompanied by added insults or denigrating of the king. There refusal was, in fact, carried out quite respectfully. There was no badmouthing behind his back or even to his face.
Could we learn from that? Could our “no” be just as effective – dare I say even more effective, when not accompanied by the disparaging remarks that are so common in our culture today? Can we politely disagree without tearing down the person with a different view? Can we show our disapproval of the words or actions of another without raising our voice or boiling over? How puzzled would others be to see such responses that are so out of the ordinary today? What might result? Could the reaction of others look something like that of the Babylonian King?
Note again his reaction after the three men’s “no” resulted in a date with the incinerator, only for them to walk back out of the furnace, bearing not even the slightest hint of flame, no smoke or singe of even as much as a hair on their head or hands. King Nebuchadnezzar said, “Praise be to the God of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, who has sent his angel and rescued his servants! They trusted in him and defied the king’s command and were willing to give up their lives rather than serve or worship any god except their own God” (v.28).
Yes, the miracle was absolutely amazing, but what was it that truly struck King Nebuchadnezzar? They were willing to die for God! They were willing to give up their lives for the Lord rather than bow down to an idol and easily escape death in that way.
Yet even on the heels of such a bold show of courage, it wasn’t Shadrach, Meshach, or Abednego whom Nebuchadnezzar praised, but God. Let that sink in! Their “no” resulted in an unbeliever praising God! And their “no” results in believers praising God today, as we are still inspired by their courage. Surely if three young believers in a foreign country can utter a “no” to the face to he most powerful authority in the world at the time, we can courageously do the same much more frequently.
But it isn’t easy! It takes courage! So what empowers our “no”?
Our Savior who said yes.
No, not to sin, but to the condemnation resulting from sin. Jesus knew the furnace of hell awaits all who challenge God’s command of perfection and rebel against it and he said yes to that condemnation anyway. He knew Satan’s relentless efforts to convince him to call the whole thing off and not give his perfect life up for repugnant mankind would only intensify during his weakest moments at the end, and still he said yes. He knew the Father, to whom he had turned again and again during his life and ministry, would turn away from him in excruciating abandonment, and still he said yes. Jesus, and all that he willingly said “yes” to in our place to spare us from eternal hell – he is what empowers our “no.”
If you’re familiar with the Jack Pine, you know what it takes for its seed to spread and eventually sprout. It takes heat. Not just a hot day, mind you, but the heat of a flame. Only the heat of flames are enough to soften the resin surrounding the seeds that are protected inside the pine cone. So the wildfire, the very source of destruction of so much else in a forest fire, is what allows the Jack Pine to reproduce.
So it is with our faith. Life is relatively easy when all is well. When it is, though, our faith is like a fallow field, resting, unused and mostly inactive.
But when the flames are kindled or when the fire is raging in our lives, faith cannot remain fallow. It will not. Faith responds to the fire by burning brighter, fueled by the gospel and charged by the Holy Spirit. Faith is inspired by the believers who have gone before us, the Shadrachs, Meshachs, and Abednegos, the Martin Luthers, our forefathers and our grandparents and parents. Emboldened and all the more courageous because the fires demand its response, faith grows, it thrives, and tears down enemy strongholds, calling out Satan and those in service to him and with a gospel-generated fearlessness that can’t come from anywhere else. And what does such a bold, courageous faith proclaim? It says… “No,” one of the most courageous words God’s people can ever speak.
