Daniel 7: The Son of Man

 

 

Turn with me to Daniel chapter 8. If you've got your Bible, go ahead and open it there. We're going to walk through this entire chapter together tonight, and I want you to follow along as we read.

Now, before we dive in, I need to point out something you might miss if you're reading in English. Something significant happens right at the beginning of this chapter—the text shifts back into Hebrew.

You're probably thinking, "Okay, so what? Why does that matter?" Great question. Here's why it matters.

Daniel has been writing in Aramaic since chapter 2. Aramaic was the international language of Daniel's day—kind of like English is today for business and diplomacy. It was the language of empires, the language that everyone in the ancient Near East could understand. But here at chapter 8, Daniel switches back to Hebrew. Hebrew is the language of Israel, the language of God's covenant people, the language of worship and the Law.

When an author changes languages in the middle of a book, he's doing something intentional. He's shifting his focus. He's telling you, "Pay attention—we're talking about something different now."

And here's what's different: from this point forward, Daniel is showing us world empires specifically as they relate to Israel. You see, the visions we've looked at so far have been about the rise and fall of kingdoms in general. But now? Now it gets personal. Now it's about what those kingdoms mean for God's people. It's about how those empires will treat Israel, what will happen to Jerusalem, what will become of the temple.

Under Persian rule—which is just a few years away when Daniel receives this vision—the Jews will be allowed to go home. They'll rebuild their temple. It'll be a time of restoration and hope. But then Greek rule will come. And under Greek rule, particularly under a Greek king named Antiochus IV, Jerusalem will be devastated. The temple will be desecrated. Truth itself will be thrown to the ground.

So why the shift back to Hebrew? Because God is saying, "This is about My people. This is about you. This message is for those who belong to Me."

And here's why that matters for us tonight. When we go through hard times, we often wonder if God really sees us. We wonder if our particular struggles matter in the grand sweep of history. We look at the news, we see empires and economies and political systems, and we think, "Does God even notice what's happening in my life? Does He care about my family, my job, my struggles, my faithfulness?"

Daniel 8 answers that question with a resounding yes. God doesn't just see the big picture. He sees His people within that picture. He knows exactly how world events will affect those who belong to Him. The shift to Hebrew isn't just a linguistic choice—it's a pastoral choice. God is saying to Daniel and to us, "I see you. Your story matters. Your faithfulness matters. Let me show you what's coming so you can stand firm when it arrives."

Alright, so with that context in mind, let's read the opening verses together.

THE VISION BEGINS: WHERE AND WHEN

Let's read verses 1-2 together:

"In the third year of King Belshazzar's reign, I, Daniel, had a vision, after the one that had already appeared to me. In my vision I saw myself in the citadel of Susa in the province of Elam; in the vision I was beside the Ulai Canal."

Okay, so let's set the scene. This is the third year of King Belshazzar's reign—probably around 551 B.C. Daniel is still living in Babylon, still serving in the king's court. But in this vision, he finds himself transported to Susa, which will eventually become the capital of the Persian Empire. He's standing beside the Ulai Canal.

Now, I want you to notice something. This vision comes "after the one that had already appeared" to him. Daniel is referring back to the vision in chapter 7. These visions are building on each other. God is progressively revealing His plan for history, and each vision adds more detail, more clarity, more specific information.

And here's what I love about God: He doesn't just dump everything on us at once. He reveals truth progressively, building on what we already know, adding layers of understanding as we're ready to receive them. That's how He works with us personally too. You might be frustrated right now because you don't have all the answers about your future. But God reveals what you need to know when you need to know it. Trust His timing.

THE RAM: MEDO-PERSIA'S DOMINANCE

Now let's read verses 3-4:

"I looked up, and there before me was a ram with two horns, standing beside the canal, and the horns were long. One of the horns was longer than the other but grew up later. I watched the ram as it charged toward the west and the north and the south. No animal could stand against it, and none could rescue from its power. It did as it pleased and became great."

Alright, so Daniel sees this ram. It's got two horns—one longer than the other—and it's charging in three directions: west, north, and south. Nothing can stop it. No animal can stand against it. Nobody can rescue anyone from its power. The ram does whatever it wants, and it becomes great.

Now, in the ancient world, when you saw animals in dreams and visions, they always represented something specific. And thankfully, we don't have to guess what this ram represents, because later in the chapter Gabriel is going to tell us exactly what it means. But let's just observe the details for now.

Two horns, one longer than the other. Charging in every direction except east. Unstoppable. Doing whatever it pleases. Becoming great.

Here's what I want you to catch: there's a warning embedded in that description. Did you hear it? "It did as it pleased and became great."

Think about that for a second. Power has a way of intoxicating people. When you're charging in every direction and nobody can stop you, when you're encountering no resistance, when everything you touch succeeds—you start to believe you're invincible. You start to think nothing can touch you.

And that's true not just for empires. It's true for us personally. Success—whether it's in your career, your ministry, your relationships, your finances—success can make you feel invulnerable. You start making decisions without prayer. You stop seeking counsel. You become less dependent on God because, hey, you've got this. You're doing as you please, and you're becoming great.

But here's the thing: the moment you think you're invincible is the moment you're most vulnerable. Keep that in mind as we continue the vision, because the ram is about to learn that lesson the hard way.

THE GOAT: GREECE'S LIGHTNING CONQUEST

Let's keep reading. Verses 5-7:

"As I was thinking about this, suddenly a goat with a prominent horn between its eyes came from the west, crossing the whole earth without touching the ground. It came toward the two-horned ram I had seen standing beside the canal and charged at it in great rage. I saw it attack the ram furiously, striking the ram and shattering its two horns. The ram was powerless to stand against it; the goat knocked it to the ground and trampled on it, and none could rescue the ram from its power."

Okay, so while Daniel is watching this unstoppable ram dominate everything, suddenly—and I love that word "suddenly"—a goat appears. This goat is coming from the west. It's got one prominent horn right between its eyes. And here's the detail that should catch your attention: it's crossing the whole earth "without touching the ground."

What does that mean? Speed. Unprecedented speed. This goat isn't just moving fast; it's moving so fast it's almost flying across the landscape.

And this goat is angry. It charges at the ram "in great rage." It attacks furiously. It strikes the ram and—boom—shatters both of its horns. The ram that just a moment ago was unstoppable, that was doing whatever it pleased, that no animal could stand against? That ram is now powerless. The goat knocks it to the ground and tramples all over it. And nobody—nobody—can rescue the ram.

The tables have completely turned. The dominant power is suddenly dominated. The trampler becomes the trampled.

Now, before we go any further, I want you to feel the shock of this moment. The ram has been charging around, conquering everything for years. Everyone has gotten used to the ram being in control. And then, suddenly, it's over. Just like that. The ram is on the ground, its horns broken, getting trampled by this new power that came out of nowhere.

History is full of these moments. Empires that seem eternal suddenly collapse. Leaders who appear invincible suddenly fall. Systems that look permanent suddenly crumble. And when it happens, everyone stands around stunned, saying, "I can't believe it. I never saw it coming."

But God saw it coming. God always sees it coming. And that's exactly why He's showing it to Daniel four hundred years in advance.

Now verse 8:

"The goat became very great, but at the height of its power the large horn was broken off, and in its place four prominent horns grew up toward the four winds of heaven."

So the goat becomes "very great." Same language used for the ram. But notice what happens: right at the height of its power, right when the goat is at its strongest, "the large horn was broken off."

Broken. Not conquered. Not defeated in battle. Just broken. Suddenly. Unexpectedly.

You know what I'm seeing here? A pattern. The ram did as it pleased and became great—and then it was shattered. The goat became very great—and then its horn was broken. Human power, no matter how impressive, is temporary. Kingdoms rise, kingdoms fall. Leaders emerge, leaders die. Empires expand, empires collapse.

And you know what? There's comfort in that. Real comfort. If you're facing opposition right now from someone or something that seems invincible—a corrupt system, an abusive authority, an unjust situation—remember the ram and the goat. Their power has an expiration date. God is sovereign over history, and He brings down the mighty in His time.

Your job isn't to panic. Your job isn't to fight fire with fire. Your job is to remain faithful, to keep trusting God, to keep doing what's right, knowing that God limits how long evil can operate.

But look what happens next. After the large horn is broken off, four prominent horns grow up in its place, pointing toward "the four winds of heaven"—north, south, east, and west.

Hold that image in your mind. We'll come back to what it means in a moment.

THE LITTLE HORN: EVIL THAT TARGETS GOD'S PEOPLE

Now verses 9-12. This is where things get dark. Let's read it together:

"Out of one of them came another horn, which started small but grew in power to the south and to the east and toward the Beautiful Land. It grew until it reached the host of the heavens, and it threw some of the starry host down to the earth and trampled on them. It set itself up to be as great as the commander of the army of the LORD; it took away the daily sacrifice from the LORD, and his sanctuary was thrown down. Because of rebellion, the LORD's people and the daily sacrifice were given over to it. It prospered in everything it did, and truth was thrown to the ground."

Okay, so out of one of those four horns comes "another horn." This one starts small. But don't let that fool you—it grows. And it grows in specific directions: south, east, and toward "the Beautiful Land." That's what the Old Testament calls Israel. This is personal now. This horn is headed straight for God's people.

But it doesn't stop at earthly conquest. Look at verse 10: "It grew until it reached the host of the heavens." This horn has cosmic ambitions. It's not satisfied with dominating earth; it wants to challenge heaven itself. It throws some of the starry host down to the earth and tramples on them.

Now, we need to pause here because this language is symbolic. The "host of the heavens" and "starry host" can refer to heavenly beings, but in context, it's likely referring to God's people—those who were supposed to shine like stars. Remember what God told Abraham? "Look up at the heavens and count the stars—if indeed you can count them... So shall your offspring be." God's people are the starry host. And this horn is throwing them down and trampling them.

Verse 11 gets even worse: "It set itself up to be as great as the commander of the army of the LORD." This isn't just political oppression. This is spiritual rebellion. This horn is challenging God Himself. It's saying, "I'm as great as the Lord of heaven's armies."

And then it attacks worship. It "took away the daily sacrifice from the LORD." In the Jewish temple, sacrifices were offered every morning and every evening—the daily rhythm of worship, the heartbeat of Israel's relationship with God. This horn stops it. And not only that—"his sanctuary was thrown down."

Look at verse 12 again: "Because of rebellion, the LORD's people and the daily sacrifice were given over to it."

There's something we need to understand here. This persecution doesn't happen because God is asleep at the wheel. It happens "because of rebellion." God's people have been unfaithful. And sometimes—not always, but sometimes—God allows persecution to come as a consequence of unfaithfulness and as a refining fire to bring His people back to Himself.

But here's the phrase that should break your heart: "Truth was thrown to the ground."

Truth. Thrown. To the ground.

Not just distorted. Not just questioned. Thrown to the ground. Trampled. Treated as if it doesn't matter. Treated as if it's worthless.

And we need to feel the weight of that because we're living in a time when truth is being thrown to the ground all around us. When people say, "Your truth is your truth, my truth is my truth." When objective standards are dismissed as outdated. When speaking biblical truth gets you labeled as hateful. When the very idea that truth exists is mocked as narrow-minded.

But here's what Daniel sees: this horn "prospered in everything it did." That's the hardest part, isn't it? Evil prospers. The one throwing truth to the ground succeeds. For a while.

Let's read verses 13-14:

"Then I heard a holy one speaking, and another holy one said to him, 'How long will it take for the vision to be fulfilled—the vision concerning the daily sacrifice, the rebellion that causes desolation, the surrender of the sanctuary and the trampling underfoot of the LORD's people?' He said to me, 'It will take 2,300 evenings and mornings; then the sanctuary will be reconsecrated.'"

This is crucial. Daniel hears a conversation between two holy ones—angels. And one of them asks the question that every sufferer asks: "How long?"

How long will the daily sacrifice be taken away? How long will the rebellion cause desolation? How long will the sanctuary be surrendered? How long will God's people be trampled?

How long?

And God doesn't say, "Oh, it'll work out eventually." He doesn't say, "Just hang in there; it won't last forever." He gives a specific number: "2,300 evenings and mornings."

We're going to come back to what that means in a minute, but first I want you to notice something beautiful: God counts. He counts the evenings and mornings. He's not vague about your suffering. He doesn't just say, "Yeah, there will be hard times." He marks the time. He sets the limits. He knows exactly when your trial will end.

When you're going through difficulty and you're crying out "How long?"—God has already marked the day on His calendar when your deliverance will come. He knows. He's counting. And He will not allow your suffering to last one moment longer than necessary for His purposes.

GABRIEL INTERPRETS: NAMING THE KINGDOMS

Now let's read verses 15-18:

"While I, Daniel, was watching the vision and trying to understand it, there before me stood one who looked like a man. And I heard a man's voice from the Ulai calling, 'Gabriel, tell this man the meaning of the vision.' As he came near the place where I was standing, I was terrified and fell prostrate. 'Son of man,' he said to me, 'understand that the vision concerns the time of the end.' While he was speaking to me, I was in a deep sleep, with my face to the ground. Then he touched me and raised me to my feet."

Okay, so Daniel is trying to understand what he's just seen. He's processing all these symbols—ram, goat, horns, stars thrown down, truth trampled. And then, standing before him, is someone who "looked like a man."

But this isn't a man. Daniel hears a voice—a man's voice—calling from the Ulai Canal: "Gabriel, tell this man the meaning of the vision."

This is the first time in Scripture that an angel is named. Gabriel. In Hebrew, "Gavri'el"—"mighty man of God" or "hero of God." And his job? To bring understanding. To explain what the vision means.

I love what happens next. As Gabriel approaches, Daniel is terrified. He falls facedown on the ground. But Gabriel does something beautiful: he touches Daniel and raises him to his feet. He calls him "son of man"—a term of relationship, of care.

God doesn't just reveal difficult truths and leave us to figure them out alone. He sends help. He provides explanation. He strengthens us to bear what He shows us.

You might be going through something right now where you're crying out, "God, I don't understand. I don't understand why this is happening. I don't understand what this means." And God's answer might not come as dramatically as Gabriel appearing beside a canal. But He does answer. He sends understanding through His Word, through His Spirit, through wise counselors, through circumstances that gradually clarify His purposes.

And notice: Gabriel raises Daniel to his feet. When revelation knocks you down—when what God shows you about the future is overwhelming—He doesn't leave you on your face. He lifts you up. He strengthens you. He helps you stand.

Verses 19-22:

"He said: 'I am going to tell you what will happen later in the time of wrath, because the vision concerns the appointed time of the end. The two-horned ram that you saw represents the kings of Media and Persia. The shaggy goat is the king of Greece, and the large horn between its eyes is the first king. The four horns that replaced the one that was broken off represent four kingdoms that will emerge from his nation but will not have the same power.'"

Alright, so Gabriel starts explaining. The ram—Media and Persia. The goat—Greece. The large horn—the first king of Greece.

Now, Daniel receives this vision around 551 B.C. He's living under Babylonian rule. The Medo-Persian Empire hasn't even conquered Babylon yet. That won't happen for another twelve years. And Greece? Greece is just a collection of small city-states. Alexander the Great won't even be born for another two hundred years.

But God is describing them as if they're already historical fact. The two horns of the ram perfectly represent the Medo-Persian alliance—two kingdoms united under Cyrus, with Persia eventually becoming dominant. The goat crossing the earth without touching the ground? That's Alexander's lightning-fast conquests—Greece, Asia Minor, Egypt, Persia, all the way to India in just thirteen years. Historians still marvel at the speed.

And the four horns? After Alexander died suddenly in 323 B.C. at age thirty-two, his empire was eventually divided among four of his generals:

  • Cassander took Macedonia and Greece

  • Lysimachus controlled Asia Minor

  • Ptolemy ruled Egypt

  • Seleucus governed Syria and Mesopotamia

Four horns. Four kingdoms. Four winds of heaven—north, south, east, west. Every detail fits.

But here's what we need to understand: Daniel isn't just recording prophecy to impress us with accuracy. God is showing Daniel—and through Daniel, showing all His people—the specific circumstances they will face.

You see, Israel was going to be caught right in the middle of those four kingdoms. Especially between Ptolemy's kingdom to the south and Seleucus's kingdom to the north. For the next couple centuries, Egypt and Syria would fight each other repeatedly. And Israel? Always in the middle. Sometimes controlled by Egypt, sometimes by Syria. Always vulnerable.

When you feel caught in the middle of forces beyond your control—conflicting loyalties, workplace politics, cultural pressures pulling you in different directions—remember this: God sees. He hasn't lost track of you. He knew before the foundation of the world exactly what pressures you would face. And He's already made provision for your faithfulness in the midst of them.

THE LITTLE HORN IDENTIFIED: ANTIOCHUS EPIPHANES

Now verses 23-26. This is where Gabriel identifies who the little horn is:

"In the latter part of their reign, when rebels have become completely wicked, a fierce-looking king, a master of intrigue, will arise. He will become very strong, but not by his own power. He will cause astounding devastation and will succeed in whatever he does. He will destroy those who are mighty, the holy people. He will cause deceit to prosper, and he will consider himself superior. When they feel secure, he will destroy many and take his stand against the Prince of princes. Yet he will be destroyed, but not by human power. The vision of the evenings and mornings that has been given you is true, but seal up the vision, for it concerns the distant future."

Okay, so Gabriel describes a "fierce-looking king, a master of intrigue." This king will become very strong—"but not by his own power." In other words, there are spiritual forces at work behind him. He will cause devastating destruction. He'll succeed in everything he does. He'll destroy mighty people and God's holy people. He'll make deceit prosper. He'll consider himself superior.

And here's the climax: "He will take his stand against the Prince of princes."

Who's the "Prince of princes"? The Lord Himself. This king is going to challenge God directly.

But look at the end of verse 25: "Yet he will be destroyed, but not by human power."

This is Antiochus IV Epiphanes. He ruled the Seleucid Empire from 175 to 164 B.C.—about four hundred years after Daniel received this vision.

Now let me tell you about Antiochus. He called himself "Epiphanes," which means "God Manifest." He claimed to be the visible manifestation of Zeus on earth. His coins showed his face on one side and the title "Of God Manifest, Bearer of Victory" on the reverse. Some of his own people mockingly called him "Epimanes"—"The Mad One."

Antiochus was a Hellenizer. He wanted everyone in his empire to adopt Greek culture and Greek religion. And he saw traditional Judaism as an obstacle to his plans.

So what did he do? He marched south toward Egypt, just like the vision predicted. He moved east to secure his territories. And then he turned toward Israel—the Beautiful Land.

And this is where it gets horrific. In December 167 B.C., Antiochus set up an altar to Zeus in the Jerusalem temple. He sacrificed pigs on the altar—pigs, which were unclean animals according to Jewish law. He forbade circumcision. He forbade Sabbath observance. He banned possession of the Torah scrolls. All on pain of death.

Mothers who circumcised their babies were executed, with their infants hung around their necks. Anyone caught with a copy of the Law was killed.

First Maccabees—a historical book written by Jews who lived through these events—records it this way: "On the fifteenth day of Chislev, in the one hundred forty-fifth year, they erected a desolating sacrilege on the altar of burnt offering."

The "desolating sacrilege." The "abomination of desolation." That's what this was. The holiest place in Israel, defiled by the worship of a false god. Truth thrown to the ground. The daily sacrifice stopped. The sanctuary trampled.

This is what it looks like when evil specifically targets God's people and God's truth.

But remember what Gabriel said: "He will be destroyed, but not by human power."

In 164 B.C., Antiochus was on a military campaign in Persia. He became ill—some accounts say it was a painful internal disease, others mention mental distress after he tried to desecrate a pagan temple. He died in agony. Not in battle. Not by assassination. He was broken by God Himself.

The tyrant who claimed to be God manifest died screaming. The one who threw truth to the ground was himself thrown down. The one who set himself up against the Prince of princes was destroyed without human agency.

And here's the principle: God sets limits on how long evil can operate. Antiochus had his season. He did tremendous damage. He killed many faithful believers. But his time was limited. God was sovereign over his beginning and his end.

When you're facing opposition because of your faith—whether it's subtle cultural pressure or overt hostility—remember Antiochus. His reign of terror felt endless to those living through it. But it ended. It had boundaries. And your trial has boundaries too. God knows exactly how long it will last, and He will not allow it to continue one day beyond what serves His purposes for your good and His glory.

THE 2,300 EVENINGS AND MORNINGS: GOD COUNTS YOUR SUFFERING

Let's go back to that number Gabriel gave us: "2,300 evenings and mornings; then the sanctuary will be reconsecrated."

What does that mean? Well, there's been some debate among scholars, but when we look at the historical fulfillment, the answer becomes pretty clear.

In Jewish temple practice, sacrifices were offered twice daily—one in the evening and one in the morning. Every single day. Morning and evening. Evening and morning. It was the rhythm of worship, the heartbeat of Israel's relationship with God.

So when we hear "2,300 evenings and mornings," we're talking about 2,300 individual sacrifices. Since there were two per day—evening and morning—that's 1,150 days. Roughly three years and two months.

Now watch how precisely this was fulfilled. The historical records tell us that Antiochus desecrated the temple in December 167 B.C. He set up the altar to Zeus. He offered unclean sacrifices. He stopped the daily worship of the true God. And for three years, faithful Jews watched their temple being defiled, their truth being trampled, their people being killed.

But exactly three years later—in December 164 B.C.—Judah Maccabee and his followers defeated Antiochus's forces. They went into the temple. They threw out the pagan altar. They cleansed the sanctuary. They removed everything that defiled it. And they rededicated the temple to the Lord.

This is what the Jewish feast of Hanukkah celebrates. The Festival of Dedication. The Festival of Lights. It commemorates the day when, after those dark years of persecution, the temple was restored and worship of the true God resumed.

And here's what should take your breath away: the duration matches Daniel's prophecy to the day. To. The. Day.

God didn't just predict that the sanctuary would be defiled and then eventually restored. He told Daniel exactly how long it would last. 2,300 evenings and mornings. 1,150 days. Approximately three years. And that's exactly what happened.

Why such precision? Think about it. Why not just say, "After a while, I'll restore the temple"? Why count every single evening and morning sacrifice?

Because God's people needed to know that their suffering had a purpose and a limit.

When you're in the middle of persecution, when you're watching everything you hold sacred being trampled underfoot, when you're seeing truth thrown to the ground and lies prosper, when you're watching your brothers and sisters die for their faith—it feels like it will last forever. You start to wonder if God has forgotten you. You start to question whether holding fast to truth is worth it.

And that's when you need to know: God is counting. He's marking every evening and every morning. He knows the exact day when your trial will end. Your wilderness has boundaries. Your exile has an expiration date. Your suffering is not random or endless—it's measured, purposeful, and temporary.

There's such deep pastoral wisdom in this. God could have been vague. He could have said, "Eventually things will get better." But He wasn't vague. He gave a specific number. 2,300 evenings and mornings.

Why? Because when you're suffering, you need to know that God isn't vague about your deliverance. He's specific. He's already marked the day on His calendar. It's already set. Already determined. Already written in eternity.

And when that day comes—and it will come—you will look back and see His faithfulness with crystal clarity.

Think about it this way: Right now, you might be in the middle of your 1,000th evening and morning. Or your 500th. Or your 2,000th. You don't know what number you're at. But God does. He's counting. And He will bring your 2,300th day. He will reconsecrate what's been defiled in your life. He will restore what's been trampled. He will raise up the truth that's been thrown down.

Your job isn't to know the number. Your job is to trust the One who's counting.

THE IMPACT ON DANIEL

Let's read the final verses, 27:

"I, Daniel, was worn out. I lay exhausted for several days. Then I got up and went about the king's business. I was appalled by the vision; it was beyond understanding."

I love that the chapter ends with this very human detail. Daniel is exhausted. Worn out. He lies there for several days, just drained by what he's seen.

Think about what he's just witnessed. He's seen empires rise and fall. He's seen his people trapped between world powers. He's seen a future tyrant who will desecrate the temple and throw truth to the ground. He's seen persecution and death. Even though he's also seen the promise of restoration, the vision itself has taken a physical and emotional toll.

And here's what I want you to notice: the vision doesn't end with Daniel feeling great. It doesn't end with him jumping up full of energy, ready to conquer the world. It ends with him lying there, worn out, appalled, struggling to understand.

Sometimes God shows us things that are hard to bear. Sometimes He reveals truths about the future—whether through His Word or through circumstances—that drain us. And that's okay. It's okay to be exhausted by what God shows you. It's okay to lie there for a few days, processing, trying to understand.

But look at what Daniel does next: "Then I got up and went about the king's business."

He doesn't have the luxury of indefinite recovery time. He's got a job to do. He's got responsibilities. He's got people depending on him. So he gets up. Even though he's still appalled by the vision. Even though it's still "beyond understanding." He gets up, and he goes about his work.

How many of you are in that position right now? You've been shown something difficult about your future. Maybe not through angelic vision, but through a diagnosis. Through a job loss. Through a broken relationship. Through cultural shifts that threaten your way of life. Through watching truth being trampled in our society.

And you're exhausted. The knowledge itself is draining. You don't fully understand what God is doing or why He's allowing what He's allowing.

But life keeps making demands, doesn't it? Work continues. Family needs persist. Responsibilities don't pause while you process.

So what do you do? You do what Daniel did. You let God strengthen you, and you get up and go about your business.

You might be asking, "But how? How did Daniel find the strength?" Remember what happened earlier in the chapter? Gabriel touched him. Twice. Once to set him on his feet, once to strengthen him further.

God will do the same for you. Through His Word. Through His Spirit. Through the encouragement of fellow believers. Through the promises He's given you. He will give you strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow.

And you remember that the vision, disturbing as it was, ended with a promise: "Then the sanctuary will be reconsecrated." After the defilement comes cleansing. After the persecution comes restoration. After the darkness comes light. After the 2,300 evenings and mornings comes the day of rededication.

PATTERNS FOR THE FUTURE: NEW TESTAMENT CONNECTIONS

Now, before we move to application, we need to see how the New Testament connects back to Daniel 8. Because this isn't just ancient history. This is a pattern that repeats.

Jesus Himself references this chapter. In Matthew 24:15, Jesus is teaching His disciples about the future. And He says, "So when you see standing in the holy place 'the abomination that causes desolation,' spoken of through the prophet Daniel—let the reader understand—then let those who are in Judea flee to the mountains."

Jesus is telling His disciples: pay attention to Daniel's prophecies. What happened under Antiochus is going to happen again. The desecration of the temple by Antiochus in 167 B.C. was a pattern, a preview, of what would happen when Rome destroyed the temple in A.D. 70.

And both of those events—Antiochus's desecration and Rome's destruction—point forward to a final desecration in the end times, when another arrogant ruler will set himself up against God.

Paul picks up the same theme in 2 Thessalonians 2:3-4. He warns about "the man of lawlessness" who "will oppose and will exalt himself over everything that is called God or is worshiped, so that he sets himself up in God's temple, proclaiming himself to be God."

Sound familiar? A ruler who exalts himself. Who opposes God. Who desecrates what is holy. Who demands worship. That's the same pattern as Antiochus.

So Daniel 8 serves multiple purposes:

First, it's a specific prophecy about Antiochus IV that was fulfilled to the letter in the second century B.C. Every detail came true exactly as predicted.

Second, it's a pattern that helps us understand other fulfillments. The destruction of Jerusalem in A.D. 70. The various persecutions throughout church history. And the final rebellion against God in the end times.

Third, it's an assurance. An assurance that God knows the future in detail. That He sees His people in the middle of world events. That He sets limits on how long evil can operate. And that He will preserve His people through whatever comes.

When Jesus says "let the reader understand," He's not just talking about understanding the historical facts. He's saying, "Understand the pattern. Understand that this is how evil operates. Understand that God is sovereign over it. Understand that persecution has limits. Understand that restoration always comes. Understand, and stand firm."

WHY GOD REVEALS THE FUTURE: FAITH, NOT FEAR

Alright, so we've walked through this entire chapter. We've seen the ram, the goat, the four horns, the little horn. We've watched empires rise and fall. We've seen persecution predicted and restoration promised. We've counted the evenings and mornings. We've met Gabriel.

Now let's step back and ask the big question: Why? Why does God reveal the future like this? Why not just handle things as they come and keep us in the dark until we get there?

I mean, think about it. If you're a Jewish person living in, say, 300 B.C., and you're reading Daniel's prophecy about what Antiochus is going to do—the persecution, the desecration, the killing—wouldn't that just fill you with dread? Wouldn't you rather not know?

But here's what we need to understand: God reveals the future to build faith, not to create anxiety.

See, when the Jews in the second century B.C. found themselves living under Antiochus's brutal persecution—when they were being forced to choose between their faith and their lives—they could pull out Daniel's scroll and read chapter 8. And they could say, "Wait. God predicted this. He told Daniel this was coming four hundred years ago. He described exactly what we're experiencing right now. Which means... this isn't random. This isn't God losing control. This isn't the end of the story."

And then they could read verse 14: "2,300 evenings and mornings; then the sanctuary will be reconsecrated."

God saw this coming. God predicted it in detail. And God promised it would end. The sanctuary will be restored.

That's very different from fatalism or paranoia. God isn't saying, "Here's what's going to happen, there's nothing you can do about it, so just panic now and get it over with." He's saying, "Here's what's going to happen. I'm already working on the solution. I've already set the limits. When it arrives, you'll know I was in control all along. So stand firm. Trust Me. I've got this."

It's like—imagine if I could tell you, "Hey, next Tuesday at 3 PM, something difficult is going to happen. It's going to be hard. It's going to last for exactly six hours. And then, at 9 PM, it will be completely resolved, and you'll be better off than you were before."

Would that make you anxious? Or would that actually give you the strength to endure? Because when Tuesday at 3 PM rolls around, and the difficulty hits, you're not thinking, "Why is this happening? How long will this last? Is God still in control?" You're thinking, "Ah. This is it. This is what he told me about. It's going to last six hours. I can do six hours. And at 9 PM, it's over."

That's what prophecy does. It doesn't create fear; it creates endurance.

Here's the second reason God reveals the future: to demonstrate His sovereignty over history.

You see, kings think they're in control. Emperors think they're shaping the world. Tyrants think they're unstoppable. They strut around making proclamations, issuing decrees, conquering territories. They call themselves things like "God Manifest" and put their faces on coins.

But God has already written the script. The ram does as it pleases—until the goat appears. The goat becomes very great—until the large horn is broken. The little horn prospers—until he's destroyed without human agency.

Human power is always penultimate. Always second-to-last. God's power is ultimate. Final. Sovereign.

And when we see prophecy fulfilled exactly as predicted, we're watching God prove that He's not just a spectator to history—He's the Lord of history. He's not reacting to events; He's orchestrating them. Not every detail, not every evil act—but the beginning, the end, the boundaries, the limits. He sets them all.

That Medo-Persian Empire that seemed so permanent? God knew when it would fall. That Greek Empire that conquered the known world in thirteen years? God knew when its horn would be broken. That tyrant who claimed to be God on earth? God knew the day he would die.

And whatever you're facing right now—whatever power or system or person seems unstoppable—God has already marked its end. He's already determined its limits. Your job is to trust His sovereignty, not to try to manufacture outcomes yourself.

Here's the third reason: to encourage faithfulness in the present.

This is huge. When truth is being thrown to the ground, when the sanctuary is being trampled, when it looks like evil is winning—that's when God's people most need to know that faithfulness is worth it.

The Maccabees didn't compromise. They didn't say, "Well, Antiochus is too powerful. We might as well blend in. We might as well worship Zeus. We might as well just survive." No. They resisted. Even unto death. Because they believed God's promises. They believed the 2,300 evenings and mornings would end. They believed the sanctuary would be reconsecrated. They believed God would be faithful.

And they were vindicated. Three years later—exactly as promised—the temple was cleansed and rededicated.

You're facing pressures right now to compromise your faith. Maybe it's subtle. Just a small accommodation here. A little silence there. A gradual drift away from what you know is true. The world tells you that faithfulness is foolish. That conviction is rigid. That standing firm is standing alone. That it's not worth the cost.

But Daniel 8 tells you something different: Stand. Truth may be thrown to the ground for a season, but it will rise again. The sanctuary may be trampled, but it will be reconsecrated. The tyrant may prosper, but he will be broken. Your faithfulness today is securing your testimony tomorrow.

God doesn't reveal the future to make you anxious about what's coming. He reveals it to make you faithful in what's here.

HOW WE LIVE WHEN TRUTH IS "THROWN DOWN"

Let's talk about that phrase again from verse 12: "truth was thrown to the ground."

In Antiochus's time, this was literal. He banned the Torah. He forbade Jewish worship. He forced people to violate God's law. He made it illegal to be faithful. Truth—God's revealed truth—was thrown to the ground and trampled.

But the principle extends way beyond one historical tyrant, doesn't it?

Truth is thrown to the ground whenever a society decides that objective truth doesn't exist. When people say, "Well, that's your truth, but I have my truth." When moral standards that have stood for thousands of years are suddenly dismissed as outdated or oppressive. When Scripture is marginalized as irrelevant. When speaking biblical truth gets you labeled as hateful or bigoted. When standing on principle gets you mocked as narrow-minded or fundamentalist.

Truth is thrown to the ground when lies prosper. When deceit becomes normal. When manipulation is just called "politics." When what's clearly wrong gets celebrated and what's clearly right gets ridiculed.

And here's what's hard: just like in Daniel's vision, when truth is thrown to the ground, it often prospers. It succeeds. It wins—at least temporarily. The little horn "prospered in everything it did." The lies work. The deception spreads. The compromise seems wise. The faithfulness seems foolish.

So how do we live in times like that? How do we keep standing when truth is being trampled? Let me give you five principles from this chapter.

First: Remember that truth is a person before it's a proposition.

Jesus said, "I am the way, the truth, and the life." Truth isn't just a set of facts or a list of doctrines. Truth is Jesus. When truth is attacked, Jesus is attacked. When truth is marginalized, Jesus is marginalized.

This makes it personal. We're not just defending ideas or traditions. We're standing with a Person. We're standing with the One who stood for us. We're standing with the Truth who became flesh and dwelt among us.

And to stand for truth is to stand with Jesus. And to stand with Jesus is worth any cost. Any rejection. Any opposition. Any price.

Second: Refuse to participate in the lie.

The Jews who resisted Antiochus didn't just privately believe in the God of Israel. They didn't just keep their faith quietly to themselves while publicly going through the motions. No. They publicly refused to worship Zeus, even when it cost them everything.

There's a difference between being wise about when and how we speak—and that's important, we need wisdom—but there's a difference between wisdom and silence born from fear. There's a difference between choosing your battles carefully and never fighting any battles at all.

Faithfulness requires that at some point, on some issues, we plant our feet and say, "This is where I stand. This is what I believe. I can do no other."

Now, that doesn't mean you have to be obnoxious about it. It doesn't mean you post angry rants on social media every day. It doesn't mean you turn every conversation into a culture war battle. Wisdom, gentleness, respect—those matter.

But it does mean that when truth is being thrown to the ground in front of you, you don't join the trampling. You don't stay silent when God calls you to speak. You don't blend in when God calls you to stand out.

Third: Entrust the outcome to God.

Here's what's crucial: the faithful Jews under Antiochus didn't win immediate military victories. They didn't immediately see things turn around. Many of them died. They died for their faith. They died for refusing to compromise.

But they believed God's promise that the sanctuary would be restored. And it was. Maybe not in their lifetime, but it was.

You may not see vindication in your lifetime. You may not see the cultural tide turn. You may not see the truth you're standing for become popular again. But God sees. God knows. God is keeping score. And vindication will come—if not in this life, then in the next.

Remember what Gabriel said about Antiochus: "He will be destroyed, but not by human power." The faithful Jews didn't have to manufacture his downfall. They didn't have to plot and scheme and manipulate to bring him down. God handled it. They just had to stay faithful.

Our job is faithfulness. God's job is vindication. And He's much better at His job than we would be at trying to do it for Him.

Fourth: Support one another.

The Maccabean revolt succeeded partly because faithful Jews banded together. They didn't try to stand alone. They found each other. They encouraged each other. They fought together.

When you take an unpopular stand for truth, you need a community. You need believers who will stand with you, pray for you, encourage you, and remind you that you're not crazy for believing what God's Word says.

You can't do this alone. You weren't meant to. God designed the church—the body of Christ—to be a place where we bear one another's burdens. Where we strengthen one another. Where we don't let each other drift or compromise or give up.

If you're standing for truth right now and you feel alone—find your people. Find believers who share your convictions. Who share your commitment to Scripture. Who will pray with you and for you.

Fifth: Wait for God to act.

Gabriel told Daniel that Antiochus "will be destroyed, but not by human power." The Jews didn't manufacture his downfall. God handled it.

This is hard for us because we like to control outcomes. We like to make things happen. We like to fix problems. But sometimes—often—God calls us to wait. To trust. To let Him work in His time and in His way.

And while we're waiting, we keep being faithful. We keep standing. We keep speaking truth in love. We keep living according to God's Word. We keep trusting His promises.

But we leave the timeline to Him. We leave the methods to Him. We leave the vindication to Him.

Because ultimately, this isn't our battle. It's His. We're just called to be faithful soldiers in an army where the General has already won the war.

THE STRENGTHENING OF DANIEL

At the end of chapter 8, we find Daniel exhausted and ill for several days. The vision has taken a physical and emotional toll on him. But then he gets up and goes about the king's business.

This detail is easy to miss, but it's profoundly pastoral. Daniel doesn't have the luxury of indefinite recovery time. He has a job to do, responsibilities to fulfill. And somehow, in the midst of his weariness, he finds the strength to keep going.

Many of us are in this position right now. We've been shown something difficult about the future—maybe not through angelic vision, but through diagnosis, or job loss, or broken relationships, or cultural shifts that threaten our way of life. And we're exhausted. The knowledge itself is draining.

But life keeps making demands. Work continues. Family needs persist. Responsibilities don't pause while we process. So what do we do?

We do what Daniel did. We let God strengthen us. Gabriel touched Daniel twice—once to set him on his feet, once to strengthen him further. God will do the same for you. Through His Word, through His Spirit, through the encouragement of fellow believers, He will give you strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow.

And we remember that the vision, disturbing as it was, ended with a promise: "Then the sanctuary will be reconsecrated." After the defilement comes cleansing. After the persecution comes restoration. After the darkness comes light.

APPLICATION: THREE QUESTIONS TO TAKE HOME

Alright, we're almost done. But before we close, I want us to wrestle with three questions. These questions are designed to move us from just understanding Daniel 8 to actually living in light of it. So grab these questions, write them down, think about them this week, talk about them with your small group or with a friend.

Question #1: Why does God reveal detailed history in advance?

We've talked about this throughout the message, but I want you to make it personal. Stop and think: What future event or difficulty are you anxious about right now? Maybe it's a health concern. Maybe it's a relationship that's breaking down. Maybe it's a career transition. Maybe it's watching our culture drift further from truth. Maybe it's worried about your kids' faith in this world.

Now ask yourself: If God revealed that difficulty to someone four hundred years before you were born, and He also revealed exactly when it would end and how He would bring you through it—how would that change how you're feeling right now?

God reveals the future because He loves you too much to leave you unprepared. Not to terrify you—to steady you. When the trials arrive—and they will—you'll be able to look at what God has said in His Word, and you'll remember: God knew this was coming. And if He knew it was coming, He's already made provision for me to endure it.

The God who numbered the 2,300 evenings and mornings of temple desecration has numbered the days of your current struggle. He knows when it will end. He's already working on your restoration.

So here's what I want you to do this week: find a promise in Scripture related to what you're facing. Write it down. Put it somewhere you'll see it every day. And every time you see it, remember: God doesn't make vague promises. He's specific. He's already seen the end from the beginning. Trust Him with the details you can't see yet.

Question #2: How do we live faithfully when truth is "thrown down"?

This is the question for our cultural moment, isn't it? Because we are living in a time when truth is being thrown to the ground all around us. Not just questioned—trampled. Not just ignored—actively suppressed.

So what do you do? How do you live?

Let me ask you some specific questions to help you answer this:

Is there an area where you've been compromising because standing for truth felt too costly? Maybe it's at work. Maybe it's in your family. Maybe it's on social media. Maybe it's in your friendships. Where have you been silent when you should have spoken? Where have you gone along with something you knew was wrong?

Here's what I want you to do: Don't immediately react and start a fight tomorrow. But do ask God for wisdom. Ask Him if there's a conversation you need to have. A stand you need to take. A truth you need to speak in love.

And then ask: Who's in your corner? Who are the believers in your life who will stand with you? Who will pray for you? Who will encourage you when the opposition comes?

If you don't have that community, you need to find it. You need to get connected to a small group, a Bible study, a few faithful friends. Because you can't stand alone. God didn't design you to.

Remember: you're not called to win every argument. You're not called to change everyone's mind. You're not called to control outcomes. You're called to be faithful. To speak truth in love. To refuse to participate in the lie. And to entrust the vindication to God.

Question #3: How does fulfilled prophecy strengthen your faith in God's Word?

Here's what I want you to do with this one: Take some time this week to read through Daniel 8 again. Maybe even read 1 Maccabees chapter 1 if you can find it. Look at how every detail of Daniel's vision came true. The ram. The goat. The four horns. The little horn. The 2,300 evenings and mornings. The desecration. The restoration.

Every. Single. Detail.

And then ask yourself: If God proved His reliability by fulfilled prophecy once, can I trust His promises about my future?

Because here's the thing: God makes a lot of promises about your future. Promises about His presence with you. Promises about His provision for you. Promises about His protection of you. Promises about His ultimate victory. Promises about your eternal home with Him.

And sometimes—especially when we're in the middle of difficulty—we start to wonder: Can I really trust those promises? Are they really true?

Daniel 8 says: Yes. Yes, you can trust them. Because the God who predicted Medo-Persia, Greece, Alexander, the four kingdoms, and Antiochus with perfect accuracy—that same God makes promises about your life. And He doesn't miss. He doesn't exaggerate. He doesn't make things up as He goes.

He's already seen the end from the beginning. He's already written history—including your history. And He's invited you to trust Him for the journey.

So when doubts creep in—and they will—come back to Daniel 8. Come back to fulfilled prophecy. Come back to the evidence that God knows what He's talking about. And then take your doubts and lay them at the feet of a God who has proven His trustworthiness over and over and over again.

CONCLUSION: GO YOUR WAY AND REST

Let me bring us home. At the end of this chapter, Gabriel tells Daniel something important. He says, "Seal up the vision, for it concerns the distant future."

In other words: Daniel, you've seen what's coming. You've been given understanding. You've been strengthened. Now, seal it up. Put it away. Keep it safe for the people who will need it four hundred years from now.

And then Gabriel says something that might surprise you. He doesn't say, "Now go out and panic." He doesn't say, "Now go out and try to stop what's coming." He doesn't say, "Now go out and spend every waking moment preparing for the persecution."

What does he say? "Go your way and rest."

Go your way. Get up. Go about your business. Do your work. Live your life.

And rest. Don't let this vision consume you with anxiety. Don't let it steal your peace. Don't let it rob you of joy.

Rest.

That's God's word to you tonight. Yes, there are difficult days ahead. Yes, truth will sometimes be trampled. Yes, God's people will face opposition. In some parts of the world, they already are. And it may get worse before it gets better.

But you can rest. Not because the opposition isn't real—it is. But because God is sovereign over it.

The ram did as it pleased—but God determined when its time was up. The goat became very great—but God determined when the large horn would be broken. The little horn prospered—but God determined that he would be destroyed without human agency.

And in the same way, whatever opposition you face, whatever trials you endure, whatever persecution you experience—God has set its limits. He's counted the evenings and mornings. He's marked the day of restoration on His calendar. And He will not allow your suffering to last one moment longer than necessary for His purposes and your good.

So go your way and rest.

Keep praying, like Daniel. Keep standing firm, like the Maccabees. Keep trusting, even when truth seems to be losing.

Because the God who wrote history in advance is the same God who holds your future in His hands. And His promises are as reliable as His prophecies.

The sanctuary will be reconsecrated. The truth will rise from the ground. The tyrant will fall. And God's people will stand vindicated, not because of our power, but because of His.

That's not just what happened four hundred years after Daniel. That's what will happen for you. Maybe not on your timeline. Maybe not in the way you expect. But it will happen.

Because God is faithful. God is sovereign. And God keeps His promises.

Every. Single. One.

Let's pray.

PRAYER

Father, thank You for pulling back the curtain tonight. Thank You for showing us—through Daniel's eyes—that You are sovereign over every empire, every king, every trial, and every threat. Thank You for showing us that You don't just see the big picture—You see us in the big picture. You see Your people. You count our sufferings. You mark the day of our restoration.

Help us to live faithfully when truth is thrown to the ground, knowing that You will raise it up again. Give us courage to stand when it would be easier to compromise. Give us wisdom to speak when it would be easier to stay silent. Give us endurance to keep going when the opposition feels overwhelming.

Strengthen us, as Gabriel strengthened Daniel, to stand when we're weary and to trust when we're afraid. Help us to remember that our job is faithfulness and Your job is vindication. And help us to rest—really rest—in Your sovereignty, knowing that our times are in Your hands.

We trust You tonight. We trust You with our futures. We trust You with our trials. We trust You with the outcome. Because You've proven, over and over and over again, that You are trustworthy.

In Jesus' name—the Truth who cannot be thrown down, the King who cannot be broken, the Lamb who was slain and rose victorious—Amen.



Austin W. Duncan

Austin is the Associate Pastor at Crosswalk Church in Brentwood, TN. His mission is to reach the lost, equip believers, and train others for ministry. Through deep dives into Scripture, theology, and practical application, his goal is to help others think biblically, defend their faith, and share the gospel.

https://austinwduncan.com
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Daniel 8

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Daniel 6: Faith in the Lion’s Den