The evening couldn’t be going better. Really. The feast was an enormous success. Tables were heaped with delicious food. Rich wine flowed. Beautiful music played. Light banter and joyful conversation echoed in the room. His party was a definite triumph, truly lacking nothing. Except those gold and silver cups. Those would really take the event to the next level. If they could all drink wine from the gorgeous cups his predecessor had pilfered from the Temple in Jerusalem, the evening would be complete. His event would be top-tier. And why couldn’t they use them? He was king. There was nothing stopping him, no one to challenge his command. Belshazzar could have whatever he wanted. So he did.
Signaling his head of staff, he issued the order. Bring in the confiscated gold and silver cups. Fill them up. Pass them out. Let’s toast in style. Sing the praises of our inert gods made of gold, silver, bronze, iron, wood, and stone. Let everyone know that the king of Babylon is still powerful. He is not afraid of the combined military forces surrounding the city. He remains unconvinced they can overtake us. He is not concerned by the possibility of impending disaster. The king wants to party. So fill up those stolen cups with the best liquid courage and let’s drink to our gods. And they did.
More than a few drinks in, the revelry screeched to a halt. A hand appeared on the palace wall. Only a hand. No body. No arm. No voice. Just a hand. Writing on the wall. Words they couldn’t decipher. Couldn’t translate. Couldn’t understand. Had he not seen it himself, Belshazzar would have blamed the reports on the freely flowing wine. But he had seen it. He had watched that hand quietly appear, write on the wall, then disappear without a sound. It was nightmarishly alarming. Belshazzar had never known such fear in all his life. His face went pale. His stomach lurched. His legs felt weak. Still, it happened so fast he could have blamed it on his own inebriation. Except the words were still there. Staring down at him. Silently pronouncing judgment. He knew it, could feel it. Even if he didn’t know exactly what they said.
Panicked, Belshazzar called for every wise man in the kingdom to be brought before him. Right there. Right then. He wanted an interpretation. Right now. There would be a fantastic reward for the one who could read and interpret the words. Purple robes. Gold necklace. Elevation to third highest in the kingdom. Even with all that at stake, no one could give the king the answers he sought. They couldn’t read it. Couldn’t understand it. Couldn’t figure out its origin. Their inability made Belshazzar even more uncomfortable. His spirit more troubled. His thoughts more frantic. Hysteria threatened. Speculatory whispers ricocheted around the room. The news began to travel from the banquet hall throughout the rest of the palace. Eventually, it reached the queen mother.
Oddly enough, she wasn’t completely ruffled by the evening’s events. Perhaps she knew her son had been treading on thin ice with God. Perhaps she remembered the grace extended to Nebuchadnezzar and hoped it would be the same for her son. Whatever the situation, she hurried into Belshazzar’s room with a plan to rescue her son. Approaching Belshazzar, she offered an option his terrified mind hadn’t yet seized upon. Call Daniel. Remember him? How many times had his predecessor, King Nebuchadnezzar, used his services when the other wise men lacked the wisdom to properly do their job? Not once had Daniel failed. He had never come up empty. He could interpret dreams, solve riddles, and give guidance on difficult problems. If Belshazzar truly wanted to know what the writing meant, he would call for Daniel.
Unwilling to waste a second, Belshazzar did exactly what the queen mother suggested. Summoned Daniel. Immediately. It must have felt like an eternity before he actually turned up. Once he arrived, the king went straight to business. A terrifying, floating hand had written indecipherable words on his wall. The hand disappeared. The words didn’t. He had already tried his wise men. Not one of them could interpret the words. They couldn’t even read them. But Daniel had a quality reputation in these situations, one Belshazzar was willing to stake his life on. Not that he had any other choice. He didn’t. If Daniel couldn’t read the words, Belshazzar was doomed and had no way to prepare himself. He desperately hoped that wouldn’t be the case. The ominous suspense was suffocating!
Standing before the obviously rattled King Belshazzar, Daniel listened to his pleas. His face was pale. His voice was anxious. His words tumbled over one another. Daniel knew he would help. Not for the reward. He wasn’t interested in that. Anything he knew or said came from God alone. The power to interpret, predict, solve, or analyze was not his, but God’s. It was not entertainment. It was divine. Daniel wouldn’t take a reward for himself that belonged to God. But he hoped the king would listen. Carefully. Thoughtfully. Completely. Hard truths lay ahead. Honest judgments. Jarring news. The king would need to make life and death decisions based on what Daniel said. He could only hope Belshazzar would choose wisely.
Approaching the king with respect, Daniel took a moment to introduce his God. Not because Belshazzar shouldn’t have already known Him. He should have. The nation’s history was not unknown to him. He had heard the accounts of Nebuchadnezzar’s reign. He knew God lifted his ancestor up and gave him enormous power over great numbers of people. He also knew Nebuchadnezzar’s arrogance had brought him down. Hard. When he took God’s credit as his own, he found himself living as a wild animal, eating grass, drinking dew. It was quite the comeuppance. It hadn’t ended until Nebuchadnezzar, in a moment of clarity, acknowledged that God rules over everything. He is sovereign. He raises up rulers and leaders. He also relieves them of duty. It shouldn’t have come as news to Belshazzar. He had heard it all before. It should have changed how he ran his life, ruled his kingdom, related to his people. It didn’t. It fell on deaf ears. Steeped in his own arrogance, Belshazzar defied the only God who has any power to do anything at all. For anyone at all. The God who renews hearts, restores minds, raises authorities, and replaces kings. (Daniel 4)
It was what the message on the wall was about. Replacing kings. God had been watching. He had seen the arrogance of Belshazzar. He was aware of his immense pride. He knew every defiant act Belshazzar had endorsed and committed, in spite of knowing everything he did about God’s power and punishments. And God determined it to be enough. Belshazzar would be removed. His kingdom would end. So would his life. Imminently. Belshazzar had been weighed in the balances, on the honest scales of Heaven, and was found to be light. He didn’t measure up to God’s standard. He was known to worship false gods. He arrogantly took God’s glory for himself. He happily defied the Temple of the one true God. It was the trifecta of grievances. And Belshazzar showed no remorse. Not when the words were interpreted. Not when the indictment was read. Not when the verdict was handed down. Not when the sentence was pronounced. From the moment he knew what lie ahead to the moment it happened, Belshazzar sat in his arrogance, refusing to humble himself, refusing to repent, refusing to change. (Daniel 5:1-28; Proverbs 16:11)
As the military forces of the Medes and Persians broke through the defenses of Babylon, there was still time for Belshazzar to get right with God. He could no longer save his kingdom. He couldn’t keep his throne. But he could have saved his soul. There is nothing to indicate that he did. Not when the troops broke through the wall. Not at the cries of his people being slaughtered. Not when staring death itself in the face. Belshazzar never fell to his knees in remorse and repentance. Didn’t ask for renewal. Didn’t beg to be restored. He made no move to reconcile with the God whose power he knew from history. No matter what he knew to be true in the past, regardless of eyewitness testimony or the records he had read, Belshazzar held on to his pride, kept his arrogance, and refused redemption.
Daniel 5:30 tells us Belshazzar’s soul was required of him that night. Within hours of hearing his doom pronounced, it occurred. Belshazzar died in his sin. He knew it was coming, yet did nothing to change his eternal status. Not because he didn’t know how. Because he chose not to do it. So his arrogant life ended. His ghastly eternity began. Due to his choice to lean in to pride, arrogance, and defiance, Belshazzar’s life on earth was far better than his eternity would ever be. It didn’t have to be that way. Astonishingly, he chose that path. With all the necessary information to make a positive eternal choice, Belshazzar still chose the world. (Daniel 5:29-31)
I wish it didn’t sound so familiar. Choosing earthly rather than eternal. But it does. Every day we are dazzled and distracted by the baubles of earth. Fleeting joys. Flashy things. Fanciful dreams. We get comfortable in our lifestyles, our careers, our homes. Little by little, our faith leans earthly. We trust our abilities, our paycheck, our advisors, our gut. Our prayers begin to throw heavily toward worldly wants and human wishes. Rather than begging God to make us His kingdom on earth, the place His will is done, a people who bring glory to Him alone, we ask Him to give us things we can’t seem to get ourselves. Perfect health. Powerful status. Personal protection. We haven’t stopped praying, but our motives have changed. Our desires have leaned earthly when they should be tilted eternal. Our prayers have become about what we can get from God rather than who we can be for God. We repeatedly choose the earthly over the eternal, continually failing to give any thought to the fact that eternity is coming, and we have to choose. Heaven or Hell. (James 4:3; I John 2:15-17; Jeremiah 17:5; Ephesians 2:8)
We really don’t like that thought. At all. We are not comfortable sitting in contemplation about eternity. It is too nebulous. Too unknown. Too unsettling. I know. It’s scary. Terrifying, really. That is why we need to make an informed decision. Make a choice based on the truths we do know, what we have learned from Biblical accounts and personal narratives. A choice for ourselves. About how we live our lives, who we glorify, who we praise, who we trust. There are only two options. God or ourselves. And there are only two eternal outcomes. Heaven or Hell. It is imperative to choose wisely. (Joshua 24:15; Deuteronomy 30:19; Matthew 7:13-14; Proverbs 12:28)
Remembering that no decision is still a decision, it is time to take an honest look at yourself, your life, your heart, and consider what choice you have made concerning your eternity? Only you can change it. The choice is yours. So is the outcome. Choose your eternity wisely. (II Corinthians 13:5; I Peter 1:7; I John 4:1; Psalm 26:2; Matthew 16:24; John 12:26; 14:3; Revelation 3:20)