Sermon Tone Analysis

Victory has always been somewhat elusive for me.

Unless you’re talking about some intellectual or artistic endeavor (chess or debate or band).

I did just do better bowling than Randy Bell; I guess you could say I won, but considering my score, it’s not all that impressive.

It’s not at all impressive, really.

Victory has always been somewhat elusive for me.

Unless, of course, you count all the trophies and monetary prizes I’ve won because of my good looks.

It gets pretty old, really.

“Please, stop giving me awards.

I can’t help the fact I’m handsome.”

All the attention is just too much...

Victory has always been somewhat elusive for me, just out of my reach.

And I know this is true for many of you.

I’m being serious, now.

I’m not implying you’re all losers, but I know most of you well enough to know you’ve experienced the worst life has to throw at you.

Whether it be your health, or your family, or your job; whether it be school or relationships or the day-to-day grind, you struggle.

Have you ever felt at the the end of the day like you’ve just lost?

Life 1, Barrett 0.

Victory might seem elusive, out of reach, but I’m here to tell you (Daniel’s here to tell you), the victory of God’s people is not in question.

There is coming a day when the Lord will be victorious, and because we’re in Him (here’s the Good News): WE WIN!

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In the first half of Daniel 7 we have the initial description of Daniel’s first vision.

It’s an apocalyptic vision (apocalyptic meaning there’s strange, scary, weird, head-scratching images used to make a point).

In this first apocalyptic vision, Daniel writes down for us the substance of his dream.

And man, is it weird!

He dreams about four creatures coming up out of the sea—a lion with the wings of an eagle, a bear with part of a meal still in its mouth, a leopard with bird’s wings on its back and four heads, and a fourth beast with iron teeth and ten horns plus another little horn that had eyes and a mouth.

Weird, weird, creepy, and weird.

In verse 15, Daniel’s really honest with us about how he’s feeling:

You see, like Daniel, if we’re not careful, we can start to despair.

We can start to think it’s all too much, there’s just too much evil, there’s no hope.

But that is not the case, not even remotely.

Remember the interruption?

Daniel’s dreaming along—Beast #1, Beast #2, Beast #3, and Beast #4—everything in his dream is going along, Daniel says he was thinking about the horns of the fourth beast, when, all of sudden, out of nowhere, a well-timed interruption placed there by the Sovereign of the universe.

As Daniel looked, there was a vision of the Ancient of Days (God) sitting on His throne in glory and power, being worshipped, getting ready to hold court.

And after the vision, Daniel saw one like a son of man coming on the clouds of heaven.

We know from our place in history, that this refers to Jesus, the Son of Man.

What Daniel knew was that this one like a son of man was the Promised One, the One who would sit on David’s throne forever and ever, the One whose dominion would never pass away, whose kingdom would never be destroyed.

That interruption should have strengthened Daniel (as it should us).

That interruption, reminding Daniel who was in charge of history, should have fortified Daniel.

Turns out, Daniel is, well, human.

Even with this great reminder of the Ancient of Days and the Son of Man, Daniel is troubled in his spirit and his thoughts are bothering him.

Daniel is having a hard time seeing past the evil, a hard time seeing past the chaos and destruction being played out before his eyes.

Daniel is having a hard time seeing past the beasts.

Don’t we have a lot in common with Daniel?

We are all, well…human.

We are often troubled and disturbed, bothered and concerned by the evil around us, the evil present within our culture, the evil in our own hearts.

And we, like Daniel, routinely have a hard time seeing past the evil around us.

We’re meant to have our eyes fixed on the Lord, the Ancient of Days.

Every morning when we wake up, we should quote the first couple lines of Psalm 121:

We should remember the charge the author of Hebrews (Hebrews 12:2) gives us to [fix] our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith.

It’s as we said last week: Don’t focus so much on the beasts; instead, fix your eyes on what’s above.

Daniel has been given, in the first half of his vision, a great assurance of the hope he and the people of God have in the Lord.

We are given that same assurance: the Ancient of Days and the Son of Man are the cause and the source of our unshakable hope.

The final verses in Daniel 7 reassure us of future victory—our ultimate victory.

>Daniel is a bit curious about what these beasts were all about, curious about the meaning of all of this.

And so one of those standing there, an angel, one of those surrounding the Ancient of Days and the Son of Man in Daniel’s vision, gives Daniel the interpretation of these things.

The angel doesn’t tell him everything, and doesn’t really clarify much of anything for him, but does reveal to Daniel and to us, the identity of those who will be victorious.

The beasts are four earthly kings who will wreak havoc and bring chaos and destruction upon the world throughout the course of human history.

But—notice that great word: but.

A simple conjunction makes an enormous difference.

It tips us off to the fact that something’s going to change.

The text doesn’t say, “The four great beasts are four kings that will rise from the earth and they will rule for ever and ever.”

No, no.

Praise the Lord, this is what it says: The four great beasts are four kings that will rise from the earth.

BUT the holy people of the Most High will receive the kingdom and will possess it forever—yes, for ever and ever.

Thanks to verses 17-18, we know exactly, but not precisely what this vision means.

This means we don’t know all the details, we don’t know all the juicy “whos” and “whats” and “whens” and “wheres”.

This isn’t small town gossip where we can get everything figured out over a cup of coffee.

This is the Word of the Lord.

It’s not meant to give us every salient detail, every bit of minutiae; this is meant to give the people of God hope.

Hope.

Unshakable Hope.

And it does.

The Bible gives us hope and it points us to our sure and certain victory.

We know what this vision means.

Daniel was told, and so have we been told.

We’re told everything we need to know.

It’s not the beasts who will be victorious.

The beasts will not reign forever.

The beasts don’t get their way for long.

The beasts—the kings and kingdoms of this world—have an end.

They all come to an end.

That’s the first part of the Good News.

It’s the holy people of the Most High who will receive the kingdom and will possess it forever—yes, for ever and ever.

This is the second half of the Good News.

The focus of Daniel 7 is on the coming day of divine judgment, when these beastly monsters will finally receive justice and God—the Ancient of Days—will win the final victory—and His holy people along with Him.

In verses 18, 21-22, 25, and 27 (six times), the people of God are referred to as the holy people of the Most High, the holy people, or His holy people.

These are God’s believing people on earth—holy people, saints.

Several months ago, I went to the funeral of a friend.

One of my High School teachers and good friends sat next to me at the funeral and then we rode to the cemetery together.

On the trip out to the cemetery, Sue asked me, “Barrett, why did the preacher keep calling us ‘saints’?”

That’s the kind of question a preacher loves to get.

That’s an open door to preach the gospel.

I told Sue, “Well, he called us ‘saints’ but just as easily could have referred to us as ‘Christians’ or ‘brothers and sisters.’”

“Oh, okay,” said Sue. “I thought it was a little weird; we’re not very saintly, are we?”

Again, another wonderful opening for a preacher.

Sue’s very intelligent, so I said, “Well, practically, no.

But positionally, yes.”

With furrowed brow and the same look that many of you are giving me right now, Sue made it clear I needed to explain further.

“Practically, we don’t live like saints.

We are sinners.

We are scumbags.