Jesus Isn't Decaf (By Naomi Meyers)

The report of unconscionable rebellion fell like lead weights into his buoyant spirit. Disbelief quickly turned to boiling fury. They had ruined his day. The day he’d been anxiously planning since the idea first took root. Months had passed in the interim. Months of designing, planning, and building the fantastic golden statue that would be the focal point of the day. Allegedly. In reality, Nebuchadnezzar would be the focal point. People from far and near would know his name, extol his wealth, praise his greatness, fear his power. Not that he’d actually done any of the work. He hadn’t. No. He’d left the work, the actual craftsmanship to the peons below him. But he’d worked himself to the bone these last months waiting for the statue to be built, demanding updates, and attempting to move up the completion date. He was so anxious to see his creation. And for everyone else to see it too. 

Not that anyone could miss it. They couldn’t. Not unless they had not been gifted with any form of sight. The thing was enormous. Brobdingnagian. Ninety feet tall and nine feet wide, the golden statue would rest comfortably on the plain of Dura. Everyone would see it. Everyone would know about it. Everyone would worship it. Because he said so. He’d commanded every person in his employ to be in attendance at the dedication of his statue. It was going to be a grand event, complete with every type of instrument found in the land. A day when he would gather his kingdom, cue the music, and watch in satisfaction as the people collectively fell to their faces before his creation. Because he said they would. And he was in charge. They all knew it.

At least he thought they did. From his comfortable viewing place, Nebuchadnezzar watched as the music sounded and people dropped to the ground in obeisance to his command. A grin flitted across his face. Triumph lit his eyes. Self-satisfaction had him puffing out his chest in arrogant pride at his power and authority. Until the Chaldeans’ words snapped him back to reality with their unbelievable report. A report that equally infuriated and terrified him. Apparently, he wasn’t as great as he believed himself to be. Not every person in his kingdom was held firmly in the palm of his hand. If their report was correct, he wasn’t actually in charge. Not completely. Not over everyone. Not over three Hebrew men who chose their God’s commands over Nebuchadnezzar’s decrees. He vowed to make them regret it. 

Rage raced through his veins at the report of unconscionable rebellion. Violent anger shook his frame, reddened his cheeks, and had his voice thundering out commands. The naysayers would stand before him that very moment to give account for their actions. Or inactions. Offer their excuses, if they had any. Choose life or choose death. Either way, Nebuchadnezzar deserved an explanation. He was the king. He was in charge. He was not to be trifled with or disrespected. No one was greater than him. No one held more authority. No one had more power. He would prove it. Once he had his explanation, he would have his revenge. 

Furious and raging, Nebuchadnezzar watched as Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego filed in to stand before him. They seemed unmoved, unshaken, unconcerned. Gazing down on them, anger blazing from his eyes, he reveals his knowledge. He is aware of their disobedience. He knows they defied his orders. He is violently unhappy with their behavior. But, even in his wrath, he is willing to consider the possibility of a misunderstanding. Perhaps a language barrier prevented them from comprehending the seriousness of their choice. Maybe they were out of earshot when the rules were read. Perhaps they were simply too slow-witted to remember every caveat of the memorandum. Whatever the reason for their decided disobedience, the king chooses to appear magnanimous. He offers them the opportunity to smooth his feathers and assuage his rage. He’ll give them another chance. Just one. 

It will go exactly like the first one. They will line up before the statue. The king will cue the music. The orchestra will play. And, along with everyone else in the realm, the three rebels will drop to their faces in obedience to him. If they fail to fall, they will be thrown into the furnace. Immediately. Why? Because Nebuchadnezzar has a reputation to uphold. No one gets to defy him. No one escapes unharmed if they try. And no one is greater than he is. No one else’s word is supreme. He is more powerful than anyone else in the land. Man. Beast. Or god. Cue the music. He’ll prove it. Do it now.  

Except there was no need. No need to start the music. No need to re-run the theatrics. They weren’t going to do it. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abenego weren’t going to bow. He could strike up the orchestra repeatedly, keep everyone there for days on end, offer them a thousand opportunities to obey him, it wouldn’t matter. Their decision was made. Had been made a long time ago. Before they’d come as captives to this land. Before they’d met Nebuchadnezzar. Before he’d issued this ridiculous decree. Long ago, they’d been introduced to the true God. They had chosen Him as their God. His were the commands they kept. He was the only One to whom they would bow. He could choose to show His power in deliverance or He could choose not to. It didn’t matter. They weren’t changing their minds. They were God’s. They weren’t bowing to some bizarre statue. No matter who said they should. No matter if everyone else was doing it. No matter if it cost them their lives. It wasn’t happening. “No, King, there is no need to cue the music again. Just head straight to the furnace. We aren’t bowing.” 

Boiling rage had Nebuchadnezzar leaping from his seat. This impertinence was not to be borne. No one defied him. No one refused his proffered kindness. No one told him, “No.” Stabbing a heavily jeweled finger at the nearby soldiers, he ordered the furnace to be made hotter. Seven times hotter. Hot enough to soothe his fury. These men would die for their defiance. Quickly. Their feet would never touch the blazing coals before their lungs were robbed of oxygen. They would die in the dancing flames and everyone would know who was in charge. Him. Nebuchadnezzar. He was in charge. Having gathered a full head of steam, he ordered Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego to be bound and thrown into the fire. Then he sat down to watch. (Daniel 3:1-23)

I don’t know about you, but by this point, I’m completely appalled at Nebuchadnezzar’s abject arrogance. This isn’t his first encounter with the Hebrew God. They’ve had contact before. Daniel introduced them in the previous interpretation of the king’s terrifying dream. You know the one. When Daniel told Nebuchadnezzar that God had given him power and strength and glory in all the land. He’d literally said Nebuchadnezzar was the head of gold in his dream. He’d inadvertently stroked the king’s ego with those words. Since then, that ego had grown to epic proportions. His arrogance knew no boundaries. His mind may have known the power of God, but his soul refused to admit it. In arrogance, he created a statue to exhibit his greatness. Penned a decree to outline his power. Held an event so his arrogant self could see just how great he was. And threw the most outlandish tantrum when someone dared believe that the God of Heaven was greater than a self-made god on earth. (Daniel 2:31-38)

Appallingly, there seems to be a little Nebuchadnezzar in each of us. Not the statue building, decree issuing one. The arrogant, egotistical one. The one who gets confused and thinks our way should be God’s way instead of His way ours. We elevate ourselves above God and pray as though he takes orders from us. If that’s the case, you are your own god. You worship at your own throne. Just like Nebuchadnezzar. If you read back through the account, focusing solely on King Nebuchadnezzar, you’ll see it. Nebuchadnezzar thought all gods–real or otherwise–were less powerful than him. He worshiped at his own throne. None of this mess had anything to do with worshiping anyone or anything other than himself. His arrogance ran the day. He called the shots. For the people. For their gods. For the God. At least in his own mind. 

I have an interesting time attempting to create a mental picture of Nebuchadnezzar’s face when he looked in that furnace and saw God walking around with untied, unharmed Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. My lips tend to curl up at the edges in an uncontained smile. Honestly, I don’t even try to contain it. This is truly humorous. The face that just a short time before was mottled red in rage is now blanched white in terror. He’s suddenly unsteady on his feet. He’s made an egregious mistake. His arrogance has gone a step too far. He knows it. Everyone knows it. To Nebuchadnezzar’s credit, he doesn’t try to deny it. He simply calls the men from the fire and puts the credit where it goes. Not at their feet. Not at his own feet. At the feet of the one true God, the Sovereign ruler of Heaven and earth. The One no one can stand against, whose plans cannot be thwarted. The One who always stands by those who humbly claim Him as their King. God Almighty. Maker of Heaven and earth. Their God above all gods. (Daniel 3:24-30; 4:35, 37; Psalm 135:6-7; 15:18-19; II Chronicles 20:6; Job 42:2)

The uncomfortable truth for us is this, we are all bent toward being a Nebuchadnezzar. We have no natural humility. We love to be in charge. Make the decisions. Call the shots. With people. With God. We find comfort in being in control and relish the idea that if we just firmly tell God what, how, and when to do things and follow our commands up with some strong faith, He is duty-bound to do it. He’s not. Believe me. God is not bound by duty to you or anyone else. You have simply chosen to be your own god. Good luck with that! Enjoy the illusion of being in charge while it lasts. Because it will end. Eventually. Like Nebuchadnezzar, your impotence will meet God’s power. Your ignorance will come face to face with His omniscience. Your temporal will collide with His eternal. And you will have to choose. Then. In that exact moment. God or god. So don’t wait. Choose today. Right now. God or god. Which one is yours? (Isaiah 2:11; 41:40; Psalm 10:4; Proverbs 11:2; 16:5; Romans 11:34-36; Job 41:11; 33:12; I John 3:20; Matthew 16:24; Hebrews 3:15)