Sermon Tone Analysis

Overall tone of the sermon

This automated analysis scores the text on the likely presence of emotional, language, and social tones. There are no right or wrong scores; this is just an indication of tones readers or listeners may pick up from the text.
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Tones
Emotion
Anger
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Fear
Joy
Sadness
Language
Analytical
Confident
Tentative
Social Tendencies
Openness
Conscientiousness
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Anger
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I don’t know how many times I was called a “mama’s boy” while I was growing up; more than I can count, I know that.
“Mama’s boy” was thrown at me as some sort of insult, a slur with some pejorative connotation.
I never took it as an insult.
It never struck me as a bad thing.
For one, I am my mom’s boy.
She’s my mom and I’m her son.
What’s more, my mom’s awesome—there’s not a single negative to being a “mama’s boy” if your mama is Jan Case.
“Mama’s boy” never upset me.
Being called a “mama’s boy” never did bother me.
It seemed to be the best some of the less intelligent bullies could come up with; I thought, “Well, they’re trying as hard as they can.
I’ll just give ‘em that one.
Poor guys can’t come up with anything besides the obvious.
They think that verbalizing the fact that I’m related to my mom is an insult...”
I’m a “mama’s boy” and proud of it.
I make no apology for it.
Feel free to call me a “mama’s boy”; it’s not an insult.
In fact, I wear it as a badge of honor.
It’s who I am.
>Daniel wasn’t called “mama’s boy”, at least as far as we know.
That designation probably wasn’t around in the 7th century before Christ.
Daniel’s enemies called him something else.
They referred to him as “an exile.”
They called him “exile” and intended for that to be an insult.
When they went to king Darius to tattle on Daniel, they began by saying (v.
13), “Daniel, who is one of the exiles from Judah...”
I’m sure they thought their charge of “exile” was as much of a dig to Daniel as the charge of “mama’s boy” was to me.
But I think Daniel, upon hearing them calling him “exile” would have thought it was no big deal.
He knew that’s what he was.
I’m sure it wouldn’t have bothered him.
Daniel is an exile.
He had, some 70 years before he was thrown into the lions’ den, been taken from his home, ripped away from Jerusalem, carried out of Judah and away from Israel all the way to Babylon.
Daniel is an exile living in exile.
He’s away from his home.
He’s a foreigner living in a strange land.
His citizenship is not in Babylon, nor is it in Persia.
He is part of the people of God living in a faraway land.
Exile isn’t an insult.
It’s the truth.
It’s true for Daniel.
And it’s true for us.
We are exiles.
We are away from our true Home.
Our citizenship is not in this place.
We are exiles.
As we’re traveling through this world, as sojourners in a strange land, there are certain truths we know:
Exiles know they might be hated (vv.
1-9)
Exiles know they might be hated (vv.
1-9) Exiles know God’s law is more important than man’s law (vv.
10-15)
Daniel finds himself hated.
He’s hated, and for no particular reason other than the fact that he’s successful—he so distinguished himself among the others by his exceptional qualities he was set for a promotion.
Daniel is successful, without corruption or negligence.
He did his job and he did it well, honestly, competently.
Daniel is blameless, unimpeachable.
His enemies have to conspire to get the king to pass a new law in order to get Daniel in trouble.
And this is what they do.
Knowing Daniel’s faithfulness to the Lord, they get the king to pass a law that for 30 days, no one can pray to anyone—god or man—except the king.
So now, Daniel’s hated and stuck between a rock and a hard place; between God’s law and the king’s new decree.
Well, Daniel’s not really stuck.
It’s not as if Daniel doesn’t know what to do.
He isn’t wringing his hands or having a difficult time figuring out what to do.
There is no hesitation in Daniel.
Daniel is faithful to the Lord without any thought of doing otherwise.
Daniel obeys the Lord and is faithful to Him, faithful to continue praying to Him and worshipping Him, no matter what the law of the Medes and the Persians said, no matter the consequences.
One of my favorite parts of this story is how little Daniel says.
We don’t hear anything from Daniel’s mouth until almost the end of the chapter.
Faced with hatred and insults and a law tailored specifically to get us in trouble, I shudder to think how we might respond.
I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t go quietly to the lions’ den.
I’d go kicking and screaming only after placing a call to my congressman, writing an editorial for the paper, posting something passive-aggressive on Facebook, calling home like the mama’s boy I am to complain to my parents, and then appealing all the way to the supreme court if necessary.
There’s this quiet resolve in Daniel—a quiet resolve in the face of hatred and insults and a law that contradicted the law of his God.
Here’s Daniel: quiet and steadfast, doing just as he had done before, even in the face of the new decree telling him he couldn’t.
Daniel’s absolutely silent throughout all of this, as far as we know.
There’s nothing recorded for us but Daniel’s faithful quiet resolve.
I believe this is the result of Daniel’s unwavering faithfulness in the goodness and sovereignty of God.
Daniel has to realize he’s hated.
He’s no dummy.
He’s 80 or 90 years old at this point; he’s been around the block a few times.
He has to know he’s hated.
And he must know this new law was intended to get him into trouble.
But there’s something else Daniel knows: Daniel knows the Lord rescues and He saves.
Exiles know the Lord rescues and He saves (vv.
16-28)
This is a truth at the core of Daniel’s life.
He has seen it.
He has experienced it.
The Lord had rescued him and saved him in a couple of instances during the reign of Nebuchadnezzar.
The Lord kept him during the reign of Belshazzar.
The Lord has rescued Daniel’s friends—Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-Nego—saving them in the flames of the fiery furnace.
Daniel knows, way down in the depths of his being, that the Lord is Rescuer and Deliver.
Daniel knows He rescues and He saves.
And I think, at least in part, this is why Daniel keeps on doing what he had always done, without any thought of doing otherwise.
I think this is why Daniel simply continued on, without protest or pity-party or political maneuvering.
Daniel rests content in the knowledge that the God he serves rescues and saves.
This is why Daniel can continue in prayer and thanksgiving while the administrators and satraps head to the king to remind him about the decree.
Daniel rests content in the knowledge that the God he serves rescues and saves.
This is why when the king gives the order and they bring Daniel to be thrown into the lions’ den, Daniel says nothing.
Only the king speaks.
Daniel rests content in the knowledge that the God he serves rescues and saves.
Even when the lions’ den is sealed, we hear nothing from Daniel.
Daniel seems to be handling all of this just fine, even better than the king.
Daniel rests content in the knowledge that the God he serves rescues and saves.
Here’s the thing: Daniel didn’t know what would become of him.
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