Daniel 4
Today we’re in Daniel chapter 4, and I want to tell you up front what we’re going to see: God loves to rescue people from pride, and He is not intimidated by anyone’s position, success, power, or reputation. Daniel 4 is the story of the most powerful man in the world being brought low so he can finally look up.
And if you’ve ever thought, “I know God is in control… but it doesn’t feel like it when loud, powerful people run the show,” Daniel 4 is for you. If you’ve ever looked at your own life and realized, “I’m starting to take credit for things that only God could do,” Daniel 4 is for you too.
Let’s pray before we begin.
Father, open Your Word to us. Open our eyes to see You as You truly are—the King over all kings. And open our hearts to become humble, teachable, grateful people. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Now, here’s what makes Daniel 4 unique. Most of Daniel is written from Daniel’s point of view: Daniel narrates events, we see kings acting, we see pressure and courage. But Daniel 4 is different. Daniel 4 is written like a first-person royal announcement. It’s Nebuchadnezzar speaking. It’s his letter, his decree, his testimony. This chapter is the pagan emperor, in his own words, telling the world, “Let me tell you what the God of heaven did to me.”
That alone should give us hope. God can reach anyone. God can humble anyone. God can save anyone. If God can get through to Nebuchadnezzar, He can get through to your boss, your teenager, your neighbor, your spouse, your skeptical friend, your hard-hearted family member. He can also get through to you and to me.
So today, as we walk through Daniel 4, here’s the big theme: “the Most High rules.” That phrase shows up again and again in the chapter. And it’s a statement Nebuchadnezzar has to learn—not as a slogan, but as a life-shaping reality.
We’re going to move through the chapter in five movements:
A king’s announcement
A dream about a tree
A sober interpretation and a gracious warning
The fall—seven times of insanity
The restoration—and the king’s confession
And along the way, we’re going to connect this to the rest of Scripture, because Daniel 4 isn’t just ancient history. It’s a mirror. It shows us what pride does, what God does with pride, and what humility looks like when God gives it.
1) A KING’S ANNOUNCEMENT: WHEN GOD GIVES YOU A TESTIMONY
Daniel 4 opens with Nebuchadnezzar addressing “all peoples, nations, and languages.” He says, in effect, “I want to tell you the signs and wonders the Most High God has done for me.”
Now, I want you to notice the words “Most High.” In Aramaic, the language of this part of Daniel, the title is Illaya—“Most High.” It’s related to the Hebrew idea of El Elyon, “God Most High.” And the point is simple: God is above. Above kings. Above empires. Above armies. Above economies. Above elections. Above the headlines. Above whatever feels unstoppable in your world.
Nebuchadnezzar is beginning to talk like someone who has finally realized: there is a throne higher than mine.
And that’s a good moment to pause and ask: what throne have you been acting like is higher than God’s? Maybe it’s your career. Maybe it’s your bank account. Maybe it’s your health. Maybe it’s your children. Maybe it’s your image—how you’re perceived. Maybe it’s control—your plan, your schedule, your timeline.
Pride isn’t only loud boasting. Pride can be quiet self-reliance. Pride can be, “I’ve got this,” or “I don’t need help,” or “If it’s going to happen, it’s going to happen because I make it happen.” Pride can even hide inside spiritual language. We can say, “God is good,” and then live like He’s not needed.
Nebuchadnezzar begins with worship language, but it’s going to cost him something to truly mean those words. God is about to take him on a journey from admiration to surrender.
2) THE TREE DREAM: GREATNESS THAT ISN’T GROUNDED IN GOD
Nebuchadnezzar tells the dream. He sees a tree in the midst of the earth. It’s huge. It grows and becomes strong. It reaches to heaven. It’s visible to the ends of the earth. Its leaves are beautiful, its fruit abundant. Animals find shade under it; birds nest in it; it feeds all.
Let’s just sit with that image. It’s a picture of flourishing. It’s a picture of influence. It’s a picture of the kind of success people envy. It’s a life that other people depend on. It’s not a small tree on the edge of things. It’s central. It’s dominant. It’s the kind of story that would look good in a documentary and even better on a highlight reel.
But then the dream turns.
Nebuchadnezzar says he saw “a watcher, a holy one” coming down from heaven. The Aramaic word behind “watcher” is often understood as a heavenly messenger, an angelic figure. And this messenger cries out: cut down the tree, strip its branches, scatter its fruit, let the animals flee.
But—and this is where your outline matters—the stump remains.
The messenger says: leave the stump and its roots in the ground. And then comes a strange detail: the stump is bound with iron and bronze.
So the tree is judged, but not destroyed completely. There’s restraint. There’s purpose. God cuts down, but God also preserves. He humbles, but He doesn’t always erase. He can discipline severely and still be merciful.
Now the dream becomes more personal. The messenger shifts from talking about a tree to talking about a person: “let his mind be changed from a man’s, and let a beast’s mind be given to him.” And then: “let seven times pass over him.”
So what is this dream saying? It’s saying that the king’s greatness is about to be cut down, and the king himself will live like an animal for “seven times,” until he learns something.
And what is the lesson? The messenger gives it plainly: “that the living may know that the Most High rules the kingdom of men and gives it to whom he will.”
Let me say that slowly because it lands on our world too: the Most High rules human kingdoms. God is not a spectator. God is not hoping things work out. God is not pacing in heaven. He rules. He gives authority. He removes authority. He sets limits. He turns hearts. He directs history.
That’s exactly what Proverbs 21:1 says: “The king’s heart is in the hand of the LORD… he turns it wherever he will.” Nebuchadnezzar is going to become a walking illustration of that proverb.
Now, before we move on, let’s talk about the stump bound with iron and bronze. What does that mean?
In the dream-world, it speaks of restraint and protection. A stump could rot. A stump could be pulled up. But this stump is secured—bound. The picture is that God is allowing judgment while also preserving what will be restored. God is limiting the damage. God is keeping the roots alive.
There are moments in our lives when God cuts something down—an ego, a plan, a relationship, an opportunity, a platform, a season of ease. And in the moment, it feels like loss. But sometimes, God leaves a stump. Sometimes He protects the roots. Sometimes He is doing surgery, not murder.
That doesn’t make the pain small. It makes it purposeful.
3) DANIEL’S INTERPRETATION: COURAGE, COMPASSION, AND A WINDOW OF GRACE
Now Nebuchadnezzar does what he always does: he calls the wise men. But they can’t help. And then Daniel comes in—called by his Babylonian name, Belteshazzar.
And Daniel is troubled. The text says the dream alarmed him, and his thoughts terrified him. That matters because it shows Daniel’s heart. Daniel isn’t excited that the arrogant king is about to get what he deserves. Daniel is not petty. Daniel is not gleeful. Daniel is compassionate.
Some of us need that. When we see proud people headed for a fall, we can be tempted to enjoy it. But Daniel models another way: he grieves, and he speaks truth anyway.
Daniel interprets the dream: the tree is you, O king. You have become great. Your greatness has grown. Your dominion reaches far. But you will be cut down. You will be driven from among men. You will live with the beasts. You will eat grass like an ox. You will be wet with the dew of heaven. And “seven times” will pass until you know the Most High rules.
Now, about those “seven times.” The Aramaic wording can refer to seasons or periods—times. Many interpreters understand this as seven years, though the text doesn’t explicitly say “years.” Whether it is seven years or seven seasons, the point is the same: it’s a complete period appointed by God. It lasts as long as God says it lasts—no longer, no shorter. God sets the clock on both discipline and restoration.
And yes, some have associated this condition with something called boanthropy—where a person believes they are an ox. That’s a real, rare psychological condition. But Daniel’s point is not to reduce this to medical curiosity. Daniel is showing us that God is acting. This is judgment with a message.
Then Daniel does something stunning. He doesn’t just interpret. He pleads.
Daniel tells Nebuchadnezzar to break off his sins by practicing righteousness, and his iniquities by showing mercy to the oppressed. In other words: repent. Turn. Use your power differently. Let your pride die before you do. There’s a window of grace here.
I want you to hear that: God warns before He strikes. God gives space to respond. God gives a year—literally, the chapter says this judgment comes after twelve months. An entire year for the king to humble himself.
And isn’t that like God? Patient. Not permissive, but patient. He gives warnings through Scripture, through conscience, through counsel, through circumstances. Sometimes He gives repeated warnings. And a wise person takes the warning seriously.
A humble person can receive correction.
A proud person only receives consequences.
So let me ask you, gently: where have you been warned? What has God been putting His finger on in your life? What have trusted people been trying to tell you? What have you been ignoring because you don’t want to change?
4) THE FALL: “IS THIS NOT GREAT BABYLON?” AND THE SEVEN TIMES
A year passes. And Nebuchadnezzar is walking on the roof of the royal palace, looking out over Babylon. Babylon was an impressive city—an empire capital. And he says the words that show what’s in his heart: “Is not this great Babylon, which I have built… by my mighty power… for the glory of my majesty?”
Do you hear the repeated “my”? My Babylon. I built. My power. My glory. My majesty. This is pride in full bloom. It’s success disconnected from gratitude, ability disconnected from worship, achievement disconnected from God.
And while the words are still in his mouth, a voice from heaven speaks: the kingdom has departed from you. You will be driven from among men. You will live with the beasts. And you will learn that the Most High rules.
And immediately, the judgment happens. Nebuchadnezzar loses his mind.
Daniel describes it with earthy detail: he eats grass like an ox. His body is wet with the dew of heaven. His hair grows long like eagles’ feathers. His nails like birds’ claws. It’s an unmaking. It’s the strongest man on earth becoming helpless, unwashed, exposed, and unable to reason.
Let me say something important here. God’s goal is not humiliation for humiliation’s sake. God is not insecure. God is not trying to “win.” God is trying to rescue Nebuchadnezzar from the most dangerous lie a human can believe: “I am the source.”
Pride is spiritual insanity. It convinces us we’re independent when we’re not. It convinces us we’re self-made when every breath is a gift. It convinces us we can control outcomes when we can’t even control our next heartbeat.
And here’s what pride does: it dehumanizes us. Notice the dream and the fulfillment—Nebuchadnezzar becomes like a beast. He loses the dignity of reason. He loses the relational life of community. He loses the awareness that makes a human being a human being.
That’s what sin does. It makes us less ourselves, not more ourselves. It promises freedom and delivers slavery.
And here is a sobering thought: Nebuchadnezzar’s fall happens publicly. The king of Babylon becomes a spectacle. The man who loved the glory of his majesty now lives in shame.
This is why the New Testament warns us so directly about pride. James 4:6 says, quoting Proverbs, “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” And 1 Peter 5:5 repeats the same line. “Opposes” is strong language. It’s not that God dislikes pride like we dislike bad manners. Pride sets itself against God’s rightful place, so God sets Himself against pride.
Friend, nobody wins a tug-of-war with God.
Now, we also need to remember that not every hardship is a direct punishment for a specific sin. The Bible is careful about that. But Daniel 4 shows us that God can use hardship as discipline, and He can do it in a targeted way when necessary.
And Peter helps us hold that tension. 1 Peter 4:12-13 says, “Do not be surprised at the fiery trial… but rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings.” That passage talks about suffering that comes from following Jesus in a hostile world. Daniel’s friends experienced that sort of suffering in chapter 3—the furnace. Hebrews 11:34, speaking about the faithful, says they “quenched the power of fire.”
So we have two kinds of fiery moments in these Daniel stories:
Chapter 3: faithful people face a fire they didn’t cause by pride; they face it because they won’t worship idols.
Chapter 4: a proud king faces a kind of “fire” of discipline because he refused to worship the true God.
Both kinds of trials can burn. But the purpose is different. In chapter 3, the fire reveals faith. In chapter 4, the trial crushes pride.
So when you’re in pain, it’s wise to ask: “Lord, what are You doing?” Not with paranoia, not with self-condemnation, but with openness. “Are You strengthening me? Are You correcting me? Are You refining me? Are You redirecting me?” A humble heart can ask that without fear because it trusts God’s character.
5) THE TURNING POINT: “I LIFTED MY EYES” — HUMILITY BEGINS WITH LOOKING UP
Now we come to one of the simplest and most powerful lines in the chapter. Nebuchadnezzar says, “At the end of the days… I, Nebuchadnezzar, lifted my eyes to heaven, and my reason returned.”
Notice the order. He lifts his eyes to heaven, and then his reason returns. Humility isn’t mainly thinking badly about yourself. It’s thinking rightly about God. It’s coming back to reality.
Pride curves us inward. Humility turns us upward.
And when his mind clears, the first thing he does is worship. He blesses the Most High. He praises and honors Him who lives forever. He confesses that God’s dominion is everlasting and His kingdom endures.
Then he says something that is either terrifying or comforting depending on your posture: “All the inhabitants of the earth are accounted as nothing, and he does according to his will… none can stay his hand.”
That is the language of sovereignty. God does what He pleases, and no one can stop Him.
If you are proud, that feels threatening.
If you are humble, that feels safe.
Because if God is truly sovereign, then my life is not at the mercy of chaos. My story is not controlled by the loudest voice in the room. My future is not controlled by my own strength. It is in the hands of a wise King.
And then something else happens: his kingdom is restored. His counselors and nobles seek him. His majesty returns. More greatness is added.
Now listen carefully: God is not against greatness. God is against pride. God is not against success. God is against self-worship. God is not against influence. God is against idolatry of influence.
God can give, and God can take, and God can restore. The issue is not whether you have a “kingdom”—a sphere of responsibility, work, family, leadership, gifts. The issue is whether you know whose kingdom it really is.
THE TITLE “MOST HIGH” (ILLAYA): WHOSE NAME IS ABOVE EVERY NAME?
Let’s come back to that Aramaic title, Illaya, “Most High.” Nebuchadnezzar uses it repeatedly. It’s like the Spirit of God keeps pressing that name on his lips until it sinks into his bones.
Here’s the theological heartbeat: God is not one competitor among many. He is not another piece on the board. He is above the board.
And that matters because we live in a world that constantly tries to shrink God down. Culture talks as if God is an optional add-on for some people: a private preference, like a hobby. But Daniel 4 refuses that. God is not optional. God is not local. God is not limited to a religious corner. The Most High rules.
And that means:
God rules over rulers.
God rules over markets.
God rules over nations.
God rules over crises.
God rules over your life.
Not in a way that removes human responsibility, but in a way that secures the truth: no one can take God by surprise.
That’s why Proverbs 21:1 is such a perfect cross-reference. If God can guide a king’s heart like channels of water, He can guide the turns of your story too. He is not locked out of your workplace. He is not locked out of your home. He is not locked out of your inner life.
Now, why does this matter practically? Because every day, you and I are being tempted to act like “Most High” belongs to our own name. Even if we never say it, we can live like it.
We can live like our reputation is most high.
We can live like our comfort is most high.
We can live like our control is most high.
We can live like our success is most high.
And God, in His mercy, will not leave us there. He loves us too much to let us worship ourselves.
NEBUCHADNEZZAR’S FINAL TESTIMONY: “HE IS ABLE TO HUMBLE”
The chapter ends with Nebuchadnezzar’s closing statement: he praises, exalts, and honors the King of heaven. He says God’s works are right and His ways are just. And then the line that sums up the whole story: “Those who walk in pride he is able to humble.”
That’s not just a lesson he learned from a book. That’s a scar he earned. That’s a confession written in the dirt of his own humiliation.
And it’s not only about Nebuchadnezzar. It’s about you and me. God is able to humble.
Now, we need to handle that line carefully. Some of us hear it and immediately think, “God is coming for me.” And if you’re tender-hearted, you might swing toward fear and condemnation. That’s not what God wants.
The goal is not fear. The goal is humility. The goal is a willing bow, not a forced collapse.
So here’s the better question: how do we walk in humility before God so we don’t need to be dragged there?
Let me give you a few practical pathways—ways to learn the lesson without eating grass.
APPLICATION 1: GRATITUDE IS A WEAPON AGAINST PRIDE
Nebuchadnezzar’s problem was not that Babylon existed. His problem was that he claimed it. “I built it… for my glory.”
Gratitude interrupts that. Gratitude says, “God, You gave this.” Gratitude says, “I’m not the source.” Gratitude says, “I received.”
So make gratitude specific. Not vague. Specific.
“Lord, thank You for this job.”
“Thank You for this paycheck.”
“Thank You for this ability.”
“Thank You for this friend.”
“Thank You for this open door.”
“Thank You for this healing.”
“Thank You for this lesson.”
And then let gratitude shape how you treat others. Daniel told the king to show mercy to the oppressed. Pride uses people. Humility serves people.
If your success makes you harsher, you’re drifting toward pride.
If your success makes you kinder, you’re learning humility.
APPLICATION 2: LISTEN TO WARNINGS WHILE THERE’S TIME
God gave Nebuchadnezzar a dream and an interpreter. God gave him a year. That’s mercy.
What warnings are you receiving right now?
Maybe your body is warning you: you’re burning out.
Maybe your spouse is warning you: you’re emotionally absent.
Maybe your friends are warning you: you’re getting defensive and unteachable.
Maybe your conscience is warning you: you’re compromising.
Maybe Scripture is warning you: you’re drifting.
A wise person doesn’t need to be crushed to be corrected.
So take inventory: when someone confronts you, do you immediately explain yourself? Do you immediately defend? Or can you say, “Tell me more. I may not see what you see”?
That posture is not weakness. That posture is strength.
APPLICATION 3: REMEMBER WHAT “SEVEN TIMES” MEANS: GOD SETS LIMITS
For some of you, the “seven times” idea is comforting. Not because you want discipline, but because you need to know God has boundaries on suffering. There is an appointed time. God is not careless. God is not random.
Even when the season is hard, God is still the Most High. He is still ruling. That doesn’t answer every “why” in a way we can live with. But it does answer “who.” Who is in charge. Who holds the keys. Who can restore reason and joy.
And for those facing fiery trials of faith—pressures for following Jesus—remember Hebrews 11:34: God enabled His people to “quench the power of fire.” Sometimes He delivers from the furnace, sometimes He walks with you in it, but He never loses track of you.
APPLICATION 4: WATCH FOR “ROOFTOP MOMENTS”
Nebuchadnezzar’s collapse began on a rooftop. A quiet moment of self-congratulation. A private speech of self-praise. It wasn’t a battlefield. It was an overlook.
We all have rooftop moments: when things are going well, when we look at our life and think, “I did that.” When we scroll through our own highlights. When we crave affirmation. When we start believing our press.
So here’s a spiritual discipline: when you have a rooftop moment, turn it into worship.
“Lord, thank You. Without You, I wouldn’t have this.”
“Lord, keep me humble.”
“Lord, show me who needs mercy.”
“Lord, remind me I’m a steward, not an owner.”
APPLICATION 5: LEARN FROM HEROD—PRIDE DOESN’T JUST BREAK YOU, IT OFFENDS GOD
Acts 12 gives us another example of a proud ruler. Herod receives praise like a god, and he doesn’t give glory to God. And the text says an angel strikes him. It’s a frightening passage, but it’s there for a reason.
It shows that God takes glory seriously. Not because He’s needy, but because He is true. When we give glory to humans as if they are ultimate, we are lying about reality. When we take glory as if we are ultimate, we are lying about reality.
Daniel 4 and Acts 12 are like warning signs on a cliff: “Do not keep walking.”
So if you find pride rising in you, don’t negotiate with it. Confess it. Bring it into the light. Ask God for help. Ask a trusted friend to keep you honest. Pride loves secrecy. Humility loves truth.
A GOSPEL TURN: THE TRUE KING WHO CHOSE HUMILITY
Now, I want to take us one step further. Daniel 4 is about a king who had to be humbled against his will. But the Bible also gives us a King who chose humility willingly.
Nebuchadnezzar exalted himself and was brought low.
Jesus humbled Himself and was lifted up.
Jesus didn’t have to be taught that the Most High rules. He is the Son of the Most High. And yet He came down. He took on weakness. He accepted shame. He suffered. He died. Not because He was proud, but because He was loving.
That matters because Daniel 4 could leave us with a question: “Can I ever be humble enough? Do I have to fear God humbling me?”
Here’s the hope: humility is not a ladder you climb to earn God’s favor. Humility is a gift God gives to people who come to Him empty-handed. And the cross proves that God’s heart is not to crush you, but to save you.
God does oppose the proud. But He gives grace to the humble. And grace means God helps those who stop pretending.
So you can pray like this today:
“Lord, I don’t want to learn the hard way. Give me a humble heart. Make me grateful. Make me teachable. Help me repent quickly. Help me give You the glory.”
That’s a safe prayer. God loves to answer it.
