Tag: Daniel 6

Tainted Love

Jesus’ prayer for Lazarus, offered publicly just before He called Lazarus from the tomb, was intentional and direct. It wasn’t a show of personal piety but a clear call to witness God’s power so that “they may believe that you sent me” (John 11:42). Jesus demonstrated that public faith—done for the right reasons—can have a profound impact. Like a light set on a hill, some faith acts are meant to be seen, leading others toward the hope we have in God.

This concept isn’t new in Scripture. Daniel famously prayed in front of an open window despite a law against it, standing firm in his dedication to God regardless of who saw or what consequences he faced (Daniel 6:10). His actions, like Jesus’ prayer, pointed beyond himself to the God who is worthy of trust even in hostile circumstances. Public faith like this shines in humility, not self-promotion, serving to inspire courage and commitment in others.

Yet, we’re also cautioned about letting public expressions of faith become tainted love—acts done for personal validation rather than God’s glory. Jesus criticized the Pharisees for practicing righteousness to be “seen by men” (Matthew 6:1), aiming not to glorify God but to elevate their own image. Their so-called love for God was tainted by a desire for recognition, and Jesus makes it clear that this approach leads nowhere.

For us, the challenge is simple yet profound: we can and should live our faith openly, but only if the aim is to lead others to God rather than elevating ourselves. True love for God will be untainted by pride, focused on glorifying Him in all we do. So, the next time we feel led to act in faith publicly, let’s pause and consider—are we motivated by a pure heart that longs to point others to Christ, or is there a hint of tainted love? Ultimately, there’s only one name worth exalting.

Condemned by History: the Shocking Reality of Human Justice

As we read through Daniel 6, the brutal reality of life in the ancient world hits hard. Those who conspired against Daniel—along with their wives and children—are thrown into the lions’ den. This kind of punishment, common in the ancient Near East, feels almost incomprehensible to us today. It serves as a sobering reminder of how human justice, no matter the era, can be incredibly harsh and inconsistent. What one generation sees as necessary justice, another may view as cruelty.

When we think of justice today, we can’t help but wonder: how will future generations judge us? Laws we think are right now may be condemned as unjust or even barbaric 10, 100, or 1,000 years from now. The values and principles we uphold may shift with time, and that’s the reality of human systems—they are shaped by culture, society, and limited knowledge. What we see in Daniel’s story is a raw example of this—King Darius, under the laws of his kingdom, saw fit to wipe out entire families based on the actions of a few.

In contrast, God’s justice is different. It transcends time and culture. God doesn’t need to evolve or adjust His standards; He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. His justice is not only perfectly fair, but also perfectly good. While our understanding of fairness shifts with each generation, God’s character remains unwavering. He is consistent, and His judgments are always right and true.

This contrast between human and divine justice should give us pause. If our sense of justice is so fleeting and imperfect, how much more should we trust in God’s perfect judgment? His justice is not reactive or prone to the whims of culture. He knows every motive, every thought, and every action. What we deem fair today might be seen as cruel in the future, but God is eternally justified in His ways.

In this world where justice is imperfect, we are invited to place our hope in a God who is always good, always fair, and always just. While human justice systems will continue to shift, God’s standard of justice will never change. We can take comfort in knowing that His ways are perfect, even when ours are not.