Commentary - Daniel 5:10-12

Bird's-eye view

In this brief but pivotal passage, the drunken, blasphemous feast of King Belshazzar is interrupted by a dose of sober reality. The king, having been terrified by the supernatural handwriting on the wall, is paralyzed by the fear of man and the unknown. His own wise men are impotent. It is at this moment of crisis that the queen, likely the queen mother, enters. She represents the institutional memory of the kingdom, recalling a time when true wisdom, divine wisdom, was present at court. She points the terrified king not to a new program or a different set of pagan incantations, but to a specific man: Daniel. The passage highlights the stark contrast between the fleeting, profane authority of a pagan king and the enduring, quiet authority of a man in whom the Spirit of God dwells. It demonstrates that when the world's wisdom fails and its leaders are shaking in their boots, the only true source of illumination and stability is found in the servants of the Most High God. The world, in its desperation, will often find itself having to seek out the very men it had previously ignored or marginalized.

The queen's speech is a testimony to Daniel's long-standing reputation. She recounts his history under Nebuchadnezzar, Belshazzar's "father" (or ancestor), emphasizing that Daniel's wisdom was not of this world; it was "like the wisdom of the gods." This sets the stage for Daniel's entrance, not as a groveling servant, but as an ambassador of the true King, bringing a word of interpretation and judgment that Belshazzar's court is utterly incapable of producing on its own.

Outline

Context In Daniel

Daniel 5 is a dramatic illustration of the central theme of the book: the absolute sovereignty of God over the affairs of men and nations. This chapter follows the account of Nebuchadnezzar's pride, humiliation, and eventual confession of God's sovereignty in chapter 4. Belshazzar's feast represents a regression, a deliberate act of defiant pride against the God his grandfather had come to acknowledge. By drinking from the sacred vessels of the Jerusalem temple, Belshazzar is not just having a party; he is making a theological statement. He is declaring the superiority of his gods over the God of Israel. God's response, the handwriting on the wall, is a direct and terrifying refutation of that claim. The passage (5:10-12) serves as the bridge between the failure of Babylon's wisdom and the pronouncement of God's wisdom. Daniel, who has been off-stage for some time, is brought back into the narrative. His presence demonstrates that while pagan kings rise and fall, God's faithful servants endure, holding the keys of divine knowledge that the world desperately needs but consistently rejects until it has no other choice.

Key Issues

The Forgotten Solution

When a culture gives itself over to decadence and blasphemy, it also gives itself over to a profound stupidity. Belshazzar and his nobles are drinking themselves into a stupor, praising their manufactured gods, when the true God intervenes. And what is the immediate result? Panic. The king's face changes, his knees knock together. His response is not repentance, but a frantic appeal to the same bankrupt system of wisdom that got him into this mess. He calls for his conjurers and diviners, the court jesters of pagan theology, and they are, of course, useless.

This is where our text picks up. The crisis has revealed the utter bankruptcy of the Babylonian worldview. At this moment, the solution is not a new idea, but an old man. Daniel, who has likely been in semi-retirement, is remembered. The queen mother, who remembers the days of Nebuchadnezzar, knows where true wisdom resides. It is a striking picture of how the world operates. In times of ease and arrogance, the people of God are often ignored, sidelined, or forgotten. But when the writing is on the wall, when the foundations are shaking and the knees of the powerful are knocking, the world suddenly remembers that there are those who have access to a different kind of wisdom. The fear of God makes a man wise; the fear of anything else makes him a fool. Belshazzar is terrified, but his fear is worthless. It drives him to his useless magicians. The queen's counsel points him to the one man who possesses the beginning of all wisdom: the fear of the Lord.

Verse by Verse Commentary

10 The queen entered the banquet hall because of the words of the king and his nobles; the queen answered and said, “O king, live forever! Do not let your thoughts alarm you or the splendor of your face be changed.

The party comes to a screeching halt, and the queen enters. This is likely the queen mother, not Belshazzar's wife, as she speaks with an authority born of historical memory. She heard the commotion, the terrified shouts of the king and his lords. Her first words are the standard courtly greeting, "O king, live forever!" which is dripping with irony given the message that is about to be delivered. She then seeks to calm the hysterical king. "Do not let your thoughts alarm you." His problem is not his circumstances, but his thoughts about them. He is undone by his own mind. She tells him not to let the "splendor of your face be changed." This is a polite way of saying, "Stop looking so terrified; you're the king." She is trying to manage the political crisis caused by the king's public meltdown. But her solution is not mere flattery or psychological reassurance. It is a practical pointer to a genuine source of help.

11 There is a man in your kingdom in whom is a spirit of the holy gods; and in the days of your father, illumination, insight, and wisdom like the wisdom of the gods were found in him. And King Nebuchadnezzar, your father, your father the king, set him as chief of the magicians, conjurers, Chaldeans, and diviners.

Here is the solution. Notice she doesn't say, "There is a technique," or "There is another school of magic." She says, "There is a man." True wisdom is personal, embodied. And what is the source of this man's power? He has within him "a spirit of the holy gods." From her pagan perspective, this is the highest praise she can offer. She is theologically incorrect, of course; it is the Spirit of the Holy God. But she recognizes that Daniel's abilities are supernatural. She then provides the historical bona fides. In the days of Nebuchadnezzar, whom she pointedly calls "your father, your father the king," reminding Belshazzar of his lineage and the lessons he should have learned, this man was found to possess three qualities: illumination, insight, and wisdom. This was not ordinary political savvy; it was "like the wisdom of the gods." Because of this, Nebuchadnezzar, a far greater king than Belshazzar, promoted Daniel to be the chief over all the other wise men. The very men who just failed you, she implies, were once subordinates to this man Daniel.

12 This was because an extraordinary spirit, knowledge and insight, interpretation of dreams, explanation of enigmas, and solving of difficult problems were found in this Daniel, whom the king named Belteshazzar. Let Daniel now be summoned, and he will declare the interpretation.

The queen continues her resume of Daniel's qualifications. He possessed an "extraordinary spirit." This is the key. His excellence was not a result of training or natural intellect alone; it was a spiritual gift. This spirit manifested in practical, verifiable skills: knowledge, insight, interpreting dreams, explaining riddles, and untying knots (the literal meaning of "solving of difficult problems"). He could make sense of things that were baffling to everyone else. She identifies him by both his Hebrew name, Daniel, and his Babylonian name, Belteshazzar, showing he was a known figure in the court's history. Her conclusion is direct and practical: "Let Daniel now be summoned." She has absolute confidence that he, and he alone, can solve this crisis. "He will declare the interpretation." There is no doubt in her mind. While the king and his magicians are floundering in ignorance and fear, this woman, remembering the past, knows exactly where to find the answer. The world's only hope in its darkest hour is the man of God it had long since forgotten.

Application

This scene from an ancient Babylonian court is a perennial drama. The world, in its pride, builds its towers, throws its parties, and toasts its own ingenuity. It mocks the things of God, or at best, treats them as irrelevant relics. The church, and faithful Christians, are often seen as quaint, out-of-touch, and certainly not possessing any "wisdom" that the modern world needs. We are Daniel in his retirement, largely ignored by the court of Belshazzar.

But then God acts. A hand appears and writes on the wall. It might be a stock market crash, a pandemic, a military defeat, or a sudden cultural collapse. The music stops, and the confident faces of the world's leaders turn pale. Their own experts are baffled. Their solutions fail. Their knees begin to knock. It is in those moments of crisis that the world sometimes, grudgingly, remembers that there is "a man in the kingdom" who has access to a different kind of wisdom. They remember the church.

Our task as Christians is to be like Daniel. It is not to be liked by the world or to have a seat at every table in the banquet hall. Our task is to cultivate that "extraordinary spirit." It is to be so steeped in the wisdom of God's Word that when the enigmas and difficult problems of our age arise, we are the ones who can untie the knots. We must live in such a way that our reputation for wisdom, insight, and integrity endures, even when we are out of favor. We do not seek the world's approval, but we must be ready to provide the world with God's answers when, in its terror, it finally comes asking. And when we are summoned, we must, like Daniel, come not to flatter, but to speak the truth of God's judgment and His grace, whether the king wants to hear it or not.