The Futile Rage of Kings: God's Micromanagement of History Text: Daniel 11:10-13
Introduction: The Chessboard of God
We live in an age that is terrified of details. Our political discourse is a frantic mess of screaming headlines, emotional outbursts, and a general sense that the world is a runaway train with no one at the controls. Men look at the chaos of nations, the endless wars, the posturing of petty tyrants, and they conclude that history is, as one unbeliever put it, just one damned thing after another. They see the rage of kings and the clash of armies, and they feel the cold grip of anxiety because they believe it is all meaningless, a tale told by an idiot.
But the Christian knows better. The Christian who reads his Bible knows that history is not a chaotic accident. It is a meticulously crafted story, and every detail, down to the last troop movement and the last arrogant boast of a pagan king, is written by the finger of God. History is a chessboard, and while the pieces, the kings and queens and pawns of this world, believe they are moving according to their own grand strategies and puffed-up ambitions, the Grandmaster is moving them all according to His eternal and unshakeable purpose.
Nowhere is this more apparent than in the eleventh chapter of Daniel. This chapter is one of the most remarkably detailed prophecies in all of Scripture. It is so precise, so historically accurate, that liberal scholars, who cannot stomach the idea of a God who actually knows the future, have been forced to argue that it must have been written after the events it describes. They look at this text and say, "No one could have known this beforehand!" To which we reply, "Precisely. No one, that is, except the One who ordained it all beforehand." Their unbelief is actually a backhanded compliment to the stunning power of God's Word.
This chapter details the long and bloody rivalry between two dynasties that emerged from the rubble of Alexander the Great's empire: the Ptolemies in Egypt, called the king of the South, and the Seleucids in Syria, the king of the North. For centuries, they tore at each other, with the land of Israel caught right in the middle. What we are reading is not some vague, cloudy prediction. It is a detailed itinerary of God's providence. In the verses before us today, we see the ebb and flow of this conflict, the fury of kings, the mustering of armies, and the deceptive nature of human victory. And in it all, we see a God who is not a distant observer, but an intimate, sovereign director of every scene.
The Text
"And his sons will wage war. So they will gather a multitude of great forces; and one of them will keep on coming and overflow and pass through, that he may again wage war up to his very fortress. And the king of the South will be enraged and go forth and fight with the king of the North. Then the latter will cause a great multitude to stand, but that multitude will be given into the hand of the former. Then the multitude will be carried away, his heart will be lifted up, and he will cause tens of thousands to fall; yet he will not prevail. And the king of the North will again cause a much greater multitude than the former to stand, and at the end of the times of those years, he will keep on coming with a great military force and much equipment."
(Daniel 11:10-13 LSB)
The Inevitable Overflow (v. 10)
We begin with the sons of the king of the North, picking up the bloody family business.
"And his sons will wage war. So they will gather a multitude of great forces; and one of them will keep on coming and overflow and pass through, that he may again wage war up to his very fortress." (Daniel 11:10)
The prophecy here is zooming in on the sons of the Seleucid king Seleucus III. After their father's brief and unsuccessful reign, his sons pick up the mantle of war. This is the way of fallen man. Sins, particularly the sins of ambition and violence, are a cursed inheritance passed from one generation to the next. The angel tells Daniel that "his sons" will stir themselves up for war. Two of them did, but one in particular, Antiochus III, later called "the Great," is the focus.
The prophecy says "one of them will keep on coming and overflow and pass through." This is a perfect description of Antiochus the Great's initial campaign. Like a flooding river, he swept down from Syria, overwhelming the Egyptian defenses in the land of Israel. He pushed all the way to the very border of Egypt, to the fortress of Raphia. This is not vague language. This is a military map drawn two centuries in advance. God is not just predicting a war; He is predicting the strategy and the outcome of the initial offensive.
The language of "overflow and pass through" is significant. It is the language of irresistible force. From a human perspective, Antiochus's army was a terrifying, unstoppable flood. But the text is written from God's perspective. This flood is not out of control; it is flowing in the very channels that God dug for it. The pride of man thinks it creates the flood; God knows He is just turning on the tap.
The Enraged Reaction and a Hollow Victory (v. 11-12)
The king of the South does not take this invasion lying down. His reaction is not one of calculated strategy, but of pure rage.
"And the king of the South will be enraged and go forth and fight with the king of the North. Then the latter will cause a great multitude to stand, but that multitude will be given into the hand of the former. Then the multitude will be carried away, his heart will be lifted up, and he will cause tens of thousands to fall; yet he will not prevail." (Daniel 11:11-12 LSB)
History records that the king of the South, Ptolemy IV, was a lazy and debauched ruler. But the invasion of Antiochus roused him. He was "enraged." Notice that God's prophecy includes the emotional state of the players. God does not just govern the movement of armies; He governs the passions of the men who lead them. Ptolemy's fury fuels his counter-attack.
The battle is joined at Raphia in 217 B.C. The king of the North, Antiochus, has a "great multitude," a massive army. But the prophecy is clear: "that multitude will be given into the hand of the former." And that is exactly what happened. Despite being a dissolute king, Ptolemy IV won a stunning and decisive victory. Tens of thousands of Antiochus's soldiers were killed. The unstoppable flood was stopped dead.
But look at the result for the victor. "Then the multitude will be carried away, his heart will be lifted up." Ptolemy wins the battle, takes the spoils, and what does it produce? Humility? Gratitude to his gods? No. It produces arrogance. His heart is "lifted up." This is the poison of worldly success. It inflates the ego and blinds the soul. He thinks his rage and his might won the day. He has no idea that the entire battle was a transaction conducted in the courts of heaven, and the victory was simply "given" to him.
And the final assessment is devastating: "yet he will not prevail." What does this mean? He just won a massive victory. He killed tens of thousands. But in the grand scheme of things, in the long arc of God's story, his victory was temporary and ultimately meaningless. He had the opportunity to press his advantage and destroy the Seleucid power, but in his arrogance and laziness, he made a quick peace and went back to his life of indulgence in Alexandria. His victory did not secure his kingdom or establish any lasting peace. It was a flash in the pan. God gave him a victory, but because his heart was lifted up, it turned to ash in his mouth. This is a profound lesson for us. A victory that leads to pride is no victory at all.
The Inevitable Return (v. 13)
The story does not end at Raphia. The king of the North is defeated, but not destroyed. God's script has more pages.
"And the king of the North will again cause a much greater multitude than the former to stand, and at the end of the times of those years, he will keep on coming with a great military force and much equipment." (Daniel 11:13 LSB)
This verse leaps forward in time. "At the end of the times of those years" points to a gap of about fourteen years. After his humiliating defeat, Antiochus the Great spent over a decade rebuilding his power, campaigning in the east, and amassing a new army. Ptolemy IV dies, leaving his throne to his infant son, Ptolemy V. The southern kingdom is weak and fractured.
And just as God prophesied, Antiochus returns. He comes back "with a much greater multitude than the former." He has learned from his defeat. He returns with a larger, better-equipped army. The cycle of human conflict, fueled by pride, revenge, and ambition, begins again. The rage of the king of the South in verse 11 is now matched by the patient, simmering ambition of the king of the North. Both are puppets, dancing on the strings of providence.
This relentless cycle of war, victory, pride, and renewed war is the story of human history apart from Christ. It is the hamster wheel of rebellion. Each king thinks he is the master of his fate, the captain of his soul. Each believes his military force and his strategic genius will secure his legacy. And God, through his prophet Daniel, pulls back the curtain and shows us that they are all just actors reading their assigned lines in His great play. Their greatest armies are but props, and their proudest moments are footnotes in a story that is not about them at all.
Conclusion: The King Who Prevails
Why does God give us this level of detail? Why this blow-by-blow account of the squabbles of two long-dead pagan dynasties? He does it for at least three reasons.
First, He does it to establish the absolute authority and reliability of His Word. When God speaks, reality conforms. He can tell us the future in excruciating detail because He is the one who has written it. This gives us unshakable confidence that His promises of salvation are just as certain as His prophecies of judgment. If God can get the troop movements of Antiochus the Great right, we can be certain He got the resurrection of Jesus Christ right.
Second, He does it to show us the utter futility of human pride. These kings muster vast armies. Their hearts are lifted up. They rage and they plot. And what does it amount to? They are a passing mist. Their kingdoms are the chaff that the wind drives away. The stone cut without hands, the kingdom of our Lord Jesus Christ, is the only kingdom that will prevail. This detailed history is a case study in the vanity of man's rebellion against God. All the kingdoms of men are like the statue in Nebuchadnezzar's dream, a glorious, top-heavy monstrosity waiting to be turned to dust by the coming of the true King.
Finally, this prophecy sets the stage for the true conflict. This back-and-forth between North and South is the historical context for the rise of one of the great Old Testament villains, Antiochus Epiphanes, who comes later in this chapter and who is a terrifying foreshadowing of the Antichrist. But even he is just a shadow. All these proud, violent, self-deifying kings are faint echoes of the ultimate rebellion, and they all point to the need for the ultimate King.
The king of the South won, but did not prevail. The king of the North lost, and came back to fight again. Their story is one of endless, unresolved conflict. But there is a King who did prevail. Jesus Christ, the true King of the North, South, East, and West, waged war not with chariots and soldiers, but with a cross. He overflowed the banks of death and the grave. He fought not with rage, but with sacrificial love. His heart was not lifted up in pride, but was humbled to the point of death. And in His victory, He prevailed completely and eternally. He did not just win a battle; He won the war. And He is now in the process of gathering a multitude greater than any earthly army, and His kingdom, unlike those of the Ptolemies and Seleucids, will have no end.