Nebuchadnezzar spoke and said unto them, Is it of purpose, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego, that ye serve not my god, nor worship the golden image that I have set up?
Three men who held high office in Babylon now stand before the most powerful king on earth. He gives them one question: is the report about them true? It looks like a routine legal enquiry. It is the opening move in a fight over who owns a person's conscience.
Nebuchadnezzar treats this as a matter of loyalty to his decree. One writer weighs the two sides of the scene, names the real question, and points out that the king stretches the charge past his own law.
Morally, it was a deeply impressive scene. On one side stood Nebuchadnezzar, the mightiest king the world had ever seen, surrounded by all the show and splendour of his court and kingdom. On the other side stood three men of a despised race, whatever post they held in the government at that moment. And the question about to be raised was this: who is the master of men's consciences, God or man? Nebuchadnezzar raised it himself. First he asked them if the accusation was true. Notice that he goes beyond his own decree here. He accepts the extra charge the Chaldeans had brought — that the three did not serve the king's gods.
This same man had bowed before Daniel not long before and praised his God. That impression did not last.
It is sobering to see how quickly the impression on the king's mind faded. The last thing he did before setting up this image was to fall on his face before Daniel and pay him honours that were almost divine. He had even said, "It is true that your God is a God of gods and a Lord of kings, and a revealer of secrets, since you could reveal this secret." But it was another matter when he found his power challenged and his image despised, despite the burning fiery furnace.
The words "my gods" and "that I have set up" point to the problem. Authority itself is not the issue. The issue is a ruler reaching into territory that was never his.
The image and its dedication did not only set aside the rights of God; they also trampled on the consciences of men. By acting this way, the king stepped outside the circle of his own lawful authority and pushed into God's territory. This brings to the front certain God-fearing men who will obey God rather than men, whatever it costs. Here are Jews who are ready to obey the king within his own sphere, but flatly refuse to obey when he seizes the rights of God.
When the king pushed further and demanded to know which God could rescue them from his hand, a deeper trait of that kind of power showed itself.
Impiety not only refuses to respect the conscience, but, what is worse, disallows the rights of God. Respect for the conscience is necessary enough, but the rights of God are infinitely more so. Observe the words of the king: "Who is that God that shall deliver you out of my hand?" This is impiety.
The king calls them Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. Those are not the names their parents gave them.
Daniel means "God is my judge." Hananiah means "Beloved of the Lord." Mishael means "Who is as God." Azariah means "The Lord is my help." These beautiful names were soon swapped for names with pagan meanings, to blot out the very memory of Jehovah. Daniel became Belteshazzar (Bel's prince). Hananiah became Shadrach (lit up by the sun-god). Mishael became Meshach (who is like Shach — Venus). Azariah became Abednego (the servant of Nego).
The accusation was true, and they did not soften it.
Yes, it was true. They were men of moral fibre, men of faith, men who had convictions. For those convictions they were ready to go into the fire, and to die if they had to, rather than violate their conscience or deny the one true God. He was their God. They prayed to Him alone, they worshipped Him alone, and they feared Him above every earthly ruler.
This moment shows where obedience to government stops. It is not a call to rebellion.
The New Testament everywhere commands submission to the authorities over us. This is to be the path of the Christian in the middle of political unrest and confusion... But these authorities — emperors, kings, or magistrates — may travel outside their own province, as Nebuchadnezzar did. They may try to put their own will in the place of the word of God, and to press that will on the consciences of their subjects, putting themselves, in fact, in the place of God. Then, in real faithfulness to God, and at whatever cost, the believer is bound to disobey, like these three exiles. The limit of his obedience to kings is obedience to God in obeying them.
- Question. The king asks if the report is true. In doing so he raises the real issue himself: who is master of men's consciences, God or man?
- Overreach. He widens the charge past his own decree. He steps outside his lawful authority into God's domain, trampling the consciences of men and setting aside the rights of God.
- Forgetfulness. The man now demanding worship had just called their God a God of gods. That impression faded as soon as anyone challenged his power.
- Names. He calls them by the Babylonian names chosen to blot out the memory of Jehovah. The names changed; the men did not.
- Line. Obedience to rulers is real, but it has a limit. It ends the moment obeying them means disobeying God — whatever that costs.
Now if ye be ready at the time that ye hear the sound of the cornet, pipe, lute, sambuca, psaltery, and bagpipe, and all kinds of music, to fall down and worship the image that I have made, [well] but if ye worship not, ye shall be cast that same hour into the midst of a burning fiery furnace and who is the God that shall deliver you out of my hands?
Nebuchadnezzar gives three Jewish officials one last chance to bow when the music plays. Then he goes too far. He asks which god could rescue them from his hands. That question turns a quarrel about a statue into a contest with God, and it raises an older question: who is master of a person's conscience?
The king does not execute at once. He argues, and repeats the terms. What makes this striking is what he had said only a chapter earlier.
It is solemn to see how quickly the impression on the king's mind faded. Just before this image was set up, he fell on his face before Daniel and paid him almost divine honours. He had even said, "Truly, your God is God of gods and Lord of kings, and a revealer of mysteries, for you have been able to reveal this mystery." But it was another matter when he finds his power disputed and his image despised, despite the burning fiery furnace.
The king thinks he is testing three officials. The real question is much bigger.
In moral terms, it was a deeply impressive scene. On one side stood Nebuchadnezzar, the mightiest ruler the world had ever seen, surrounded by all the splendour and magnificence of his court and kingdom. On the other side stood three men of a despised race... And the question about to be raised was this: Who is the master of men's consciences, God or man? ... Last of all, his rage carried him beyond every limit. He dared anyone greater than himself to step in, and so claimed to be all-powerful himself... This was truly a challenge thrown down. The conflict now begun was between Nebuchadnezzar and God.
The king's words are worse than rude. They show a fixed principle in human power that forgets who gave it.
Impiety not only refuses to respect the conscience, but, what is worse, it disallows the rights of God. Respect for the conscience is necessary enough, but the rights of God are infinitely more so. Look at the words of the king: "And who is the god who will deliver you out of my hands?" (v. 15). This is impiety. It is the principle of blasphemy that marks the beast at all times and in every situation. His thought is of the power the beast has and holds. May we remember that it is God who has given it, and who overrules it!
Their answer meets the king's boast head on. It begins with what they know of God.
The opening words of their answer — "our God whom we serve" — give the secret of their confidence. They knew God, and can say "our God." A true knowledge of God is the secret of power before men. Moreover, however great the position they hold before men, it is God they serve. The king had defied God when he said, "And who is the god who will deliver you out of my hands?" These faithful men calmly take up the challenge. With the confidence of faith they say, "our God... is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace," and further, "He will deliver us out of your hand, O king."
Their refusal is narrow. It touches one command only.
It is not God's way, at present, to meet power with power... Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego never set themselves to resist Nebuchadnezzar in his wickedness... But still these godly men do not pretend that he is a false king because he sets up and enforces idolatry. For the Christian, the question is not about the king, but how he ought to behave himself. It is not his business to meddle with others. He is called to walk, relying on God, in obedience and patience. In the vast majority of everyday duties, we can obey God by obeying the laws of the land where we live.
The king asked a question and got an answer he could see. His own idol never spoke for itself.
What happened on the plain of Dura was enough to make him acknowledge only the one true God. For if the idol was a god, why did he not defend himself against those who refused to honour him? The king set out to avenge his idol. Instead he found himself facing the power of the one God he had defied, as Pharaoh once did: "And who is the god who will deliver you out of my hands?" He learns that there is One who can deliver in a wonderful way.
- Challenge. The king boasted that no god could rescue from his hands. That turned a local loyalty test into a contest between Nebuchadnezzar and God Himself.
- Conscience. By demanding worship he reached past his own authority. The question raised was simple: who is master of a person's conscience, God or man?
- Confidence. The three men answered with "our God whom we serve." Knowing God is what gave them power to stand before an angry king.
- Conduct. Their refusal was narrow. They did not rebel or deny the king's office. They said no only where his will replaced God's.
- Conclusion. The king who asked "who is the god who will deliver you?" learned by sight that there is One who delivers in a way no other can.
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego answered and said to the king, O Nebuchadnezzar, we have no need to answer thee in this matter.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
If it be [so], our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver [us] out of thy hand, O king.
Nebuchadnezzar had just thrown down a challenge: which god could rescue anyone from his hand? Three young men answer without panic, naming God as theirs, confessing His power, and leaving the outcome entirely to Him — and the shape of that answer has steadied believers under pressure ever since.
The confidence in this verse is not self-confidence. It rests on two words at the start of their reply, which one writer treats as the key to the whole scene:
The opening words of their answer — "Our God whom we serve" — give the secret of their confidence. They knew God, and can say "our God." A true knowledge of God is the secret of power before men. Moreover, however great the position they hold before men, it is God they serve. The king had defied God in saying "Who is that God that shall deliver you out of my hands?" With great calmness these faithful men take up this challenge.
These men were officials in Babylon's government. Their refusal now was not a change of character but the same loyalty running underneath it, and their words carry no hesitation:
In the presence of the king, who never thought of serving any but himself, and who saw none but himself to serve, they say, "Our God, whom we serve." They had served the king faithfully before, because they had always served God: and they must serve God still, even if it looked like not serving the king. But they have confidence in God. "He will deliver us out of your hand, O king." This was not mere abstract truth: it was faith.
Read with the verse that follows, their reply moves in stages, and each stage says something different about God:
First, they asserted that their God was able to deliver them. They exalted His power. Second, they did not hide the fact that for reasons of His own He might not deliver them. And third, they stated with complete decision that if He were not pleased to deliver, they would not forsake their God by worshipping the king's golden image, in honour of gods that were false.
Their certainty about God's power did not become a demand that He use it. One writer puts the balance like this: God "could deliver them from the fire or carry them through it; but whatever the consequences, they would trust in Him and serve Him."
This is not a story about resisting government. The commentary draws a careful line here, and it is the same line believers face today:
If God allows them to suffer a martyr's death, they are ready to accept the fiery ordeal as God's way of deliverance from the king, rather than disobey God. For them it is simply a question of obeying God or man… Obedience to the governing authorities is the plain direction of the word of God for His people. It is not for us to raise questions about how the authority is constituted, or about the character of the one who holds it; our part is to obey. But when the will of man clashes with the word of God, and seeks to force that will on our consciences, we must obey God rather than man.
Notice how their faith was tested before it was answered. God did not stop the king; He let the sentence be carried out, so that their confidence "is put to the proof without any apparent intervention by God."
God's answer was not what a spectator would have predicted. He did not keep them out of the furnace — He met them inside it:
In front of that fiery furnace, while they were being bound in their coats and their other garments, to be handed over to that raging fire that opened its mouth to devour them, they had the support of Almighty God; but in the furnace itself they had not only His support but His company. The cords that bound them and the men who threw them in were both burned up. The fire did nothing but set them free from their bonds.
The events happened, but commentators hold that the chapter was also chosen to picture something still ahead — and that its comfort reaches wider than one moment in Babylon:
The actual facts took place, but these facts were chosen to show what will happen in the last days… The history of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego is full of encouragement — especially for the Jewish remnant in the last days, but also for the saints of God in every age when surrounded by the fires of persecution… And the lesson is written large: "God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it" (1 Cor. 10:13).
- Know Him — "our God" comes before "is able." Confidence before men grows out of real knowledge of God, not out of nerve.
- Serve Him — they had served the king well precisely because they served God first; loyalty to God is what made them trustworthy anywhere else.
- Trust Him — faith affirms God's power without dictating how He must use it; He can deliver from the fire or carry His people through it.
- Obey Him — submit to authority as a rule; refuse only where a ruler's command would override the word of God on the conscience.
- Meet Him — the fire burned only their bonds, and gave them a companion in the flames; what looked like abandonment was the deepest deliverance of all.
But if not, be it known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image that thou hast set up.
Nebuchadnezzar had given three exiled Jews one last chance to bow to his golden image. He backed the offer with a furnace. Their reply reaches its high point here: the refusal stands whether or not God rescues them. So what does such faith rest on, if not on a guaranteed escape?
One writer sets out the three stages of their answer:
First, they asserted that their God was able to deliver them. They exalted His power. Second, they did not hide the fact that for reasons of His own He might not deliver them. And third, they said with complete firmness that they would not forsake their God, even if He were not pleased to deliver. To worship the king's golden image would be to honour gods that were false. "We will not serve your gods," was their decisive word, and as a result their God greatly honoured them.
The reason they can leave the outcome open is that their loyalty is to a Person, not to a rescue. Notice what happens to the balance of power in the room:
Even if God will not use His power to deliver us, we serve God Himself; we will not serve the gods of this world. Faith in the living God gives the man who walks in it a place of great dignity. These men were at that moment the object of all the attention of the Babylonian empire. What was the image then? It was forgotten. Nebuchadnezzar himself was powerless in the presence of his captives from Israel.
"But if not" does not mean they expected God to fail them. It means they widened what rescue could look like:
But if God allows them to die as martyrs, they are ready to accept the fire. They will take it as God's way of delivering them from the king, rather than disobey God. For them it is simply a question of obeying God or man.
Their confidence and their readiness to die stood together:
They knew whom they had believed, and that He was able to keep them safe from the king's fury. But if it were His will, they were ready to die as martyrs for His name's sake. As another has observed, their faith and obedience were as absolute as the will of the king.
There was an easy case for one small, meaningless gesture. Faith refused to reason that way:
The natural man might say, "It is only a small thing the king asks. You only have to bow down once to this image. The whole thing is over in a moment, and then you are free. You need not bow down in your heart. It is quite a formal affair, and only a question of obedience to the king." But faith does not reason like this. Faith obeys God, and sees clearly that the question is God or the king. That settles the matter.
The New Testament tells believers to submit to their rulers. This refusal marks where that submission stops:
Everywhere the New Testament calls for submission to the governing authorities... But these authorities — emperors, kings, or magistrates — may travel outside their own province, as Nebuchadnezzar did. They may seek to put their own will in the place of the word of God, and to force that will on the consciences of their subjects. In doing so they put themselves in the place of God. Then, in faithfulness to God, and at whatever cost, the believer is bound to disobey, as these three exiles did. He obeys kings only so far as he can obey God in obeying them.
The king got his way on the outside. That only made God's power show more clearly:
The king in his fury defies God. "Who is the god who will deliver you out of my hands?" God allows him to take his own way... The Hebrews are cast into the furnace, and outwardly the king's will is accomplished. But this only shows the power and faithfulness of God more brightly. He comes even into the middle of the fire, to prove how much He cares about the faithfulness of His servants. For them, the fire burns away their bonds. And they have with them One whose form is like the Son of God.
- Served. Their loyalty was to God Himself, not to a rescue — so the gods of this world were never an option.
- Able. They confessed His power to rescue before they admitted He might not use it.
- Open. "But if not" leaves the method to God; even a martyr's death would be His way of delivering them from the king.
- Fixed. The outcome stayed open, but the refusal did not: not one bow, not even a formal gesture.
- Answered. The king got his way outwardly, yet the fire burned their bonds away and gave them the presence of One whose form was like the Son of God.