-- And now, O Lord our God, who broughtest thy people forth out of the land of Egypt with a strong hand, and hast made thee a name, as it is this day, -- we have sinned, we have done wickedly.
Daniel's long confession has already agreed that God's judgments are just. Now, before he asks for anything, he reaches back past the exile to the event that made Israel a nation. He names God as the One who brought His people out of Egypt. In the same breath he admits that this redeemed people has sinned.
Daniel does not confess a recent lapse. By naming the exodus, his confession stretches across the entire national story.
In the first place, Daniel, in his day, could look back over one thousand years of failure among the professing people of God. In his confession he goes back to the time when God brought Israel out of Egypt, and from that time he says, "We have sinned, we have done wickedly."
Mentioning the mighty hand is not a change of subject. It is the sharpest thing Daniel says against his own people.
There was yet a further aggravation of their guilt which Daniel confesses. The people who had sinned and done so wickedly were the redeemed of the Lord. They were the people He had brought out of Egypt with a mighty hand. God had won renown through them, and now these same people had dishonoured Him by their sin. God's redeeming power on behalf of Israel had spread His fame among the nations. Israel's sin had made the Gentiles blaspheme His Name. So God vindicated His glory by driving Israel back into bondage.
Having admitted the sin, Daniel has nothing left to offer from his people's side. He holds onto one thing only: God's name. That is why his next words ask for God's own city.
"O Lord, according to all your righteous acts, let your anger and your wrath turn away from your city Jerusalem, your holy hill" (v. 16). The words of Daniel are quite touching. He deeply felt that it was the sin of the people that had brought down all the evil. Even so, he repeats, It is a question of Your name; he says nothing about the name of the people.
There is a striking confidence under the self-accusation. Commentators note that Moses prayed in the same spirit, though the two men start their appeal at different points.
Daniel's faith outreaches their sin, and rests on God's faithfulness; so did that of Moses — only here he goes back to Moses and Egypt; Moses also goes back to the fathers.
Daniel does not leave one excuse standing. He measures his nation's history by God's holiness and agrees with the verdict. What he does here is not for Israel only.
Yet again he mentions another thing that makes their guilt worse. They had sinned and done wickedly against the very One who had redeemed them with a mighty hand out of the land of Egypt, and had won renown for Himself (v. 15). Daniel went to the very bottom. He viewed all the sins of his people in the light of God's holiness. He justified God, and owned that the judgment which had overtaken Jerusalem, Judah, Israel, kings, princes, and people was only their righteous due. It is therefore a pattern confession for all time, whether for saints or for sinners. We only need to remember that grace is now known even more fully. That is one more reason for thoroughness and openness in confession.
Anyone can copy this prayer. Its marks are plain, and so is the ground it stands on.
The things that mark true confession come clearly to light here. Daniel admits the evil without any excuse or softening. He owns that God's judgments and discipline are right. He asks God to grant deliverance according to His word, pleading "not… for our righteousness, but for your great mercy." Let us cultivate these excellent features in our day. We too can ask for nothing on the ground of merit, but only on the ground of mercy.
- Redemption — Daniel begins where Israel began. God brought them out of Egypt with a mighty hand, and that act won Him a name among the nations.
- Reproach — that same redemption makes the sin worse. God won renown through this people, and their sin then shamed His Name.
- Reach — Daniel's confession covers a thousand years of failure. He does not limit the guilt to his own generation.
- Refusal — he pleads no merit at all; the motive he presses is God's own name and God's own city, not Israel's worth.
- Result — his confession justifies God and rests on His faithfulness. It is a pattern for anyone who comes to God asking for mercy.
Lord, according to all thy righteousnesses, I beseech thee, let thine anger and thy fury be turned away from thy city Jerusalem, thy holy mountain; for because of our sins, and because of the iniquities of our fathers, Jerusalem and thy people [are become] a reproach to all round about us.
Daniel has just spent fifteen verses owning his nation's sin and clearing God of all blame for Jerusalem's ruin. Now he asks for something, and his plea rests on a surprise: not the nation's record, not even mercy at first, but God's own righteousness.
Watch what Daniel puts first in his prayer.
Daniel has confessed the sin and failure of God's people, and he has justified God in all His ways. Now he turns to prayer and pleads with Him. Surprising as we may find it, his first plea is the righteousness of God, and later the "great mercies" of God. He realises that mercy must rest on righteousness. In verse 14 he had already owned the "righteousness" of God in bringing all this sorrow on the people. Now he asks that in righteousness God would turn His anger and fury away from Jerusalem.
He could argue that way because of something God had already done.
The prophet had a right to plead the Lord's righteousness. Jehovah had put His name in the sanctuary Solomon built. He had also accepted Solomon's prayer at its dedication. In this way He bound Himself to hear the prayers of His people when their sins had humbled them before Him. So in this plea Daniel counted on all that Jehovah was as revealed to Israel, and on His faithfulness to His own word. Nothing gives the soul so much courage as grasping God's righteousness, or sets it so completely free in God's presence.
Notice whose city it is in Daniel's prayer. He never calls Jerusalem ours.
The words of Daniel are quite touching. He felt deeply that the sin of the people had brought down all this evil. Still, he repeats: it is a question of Your name. He says nothing about the name of the people. He had truly felt their misery and sin, and he was humbled for it. But he insists on this point: Jerusalem is the city of God. As he confessed the sins of his fathers, he could not bear the thought of the city of God lying in ruins. Those sins were the cause, so God must forgive them before He can restore the city.
The same instinct shows in two more words: "Your people."
It is very touching to see the way Daniel uses the term "Your people." God had in fact written Lo-ammi ("not my people") on Israel. But faith would rebuild the link, and so it refuses that name of reproach.
Daniel names the sins, then leans on something outside the people altogether.
God Himself becomes the motive. Faith sees the sins of the people. Yet the glory of God identifies itself with such a people, so faith can claim deliverance from the results of those sins. This very glory makes forgiveness necessary, for God has identified Himself in goodness with the people. And if God is to act for His name, He must deliver Jerusalem, for there was no other place on earth that bore His name.
Read the whole prayer and you will not find Daniel asking for one thing for Daniel.
Note that the prophet forgets himself. He makes not one single request for himself. He prays only for others. And even when he prays for them, he thinks not so much of their blessing, or relief from oppression, or even their return to the land. God's honour is uppermost in his thoughts.
The point is not to admire Daniel, but to pray like him.
The subjects of his supplication are the city, the holy mountain, the sanctuary and the people of God. He is not pleading for himself, his own interests, or the particular needs of his companions in captivity. His whole heart is taken up with the interests of God on earth. If only we knew more of the spirit of Daniel! If only our hearts were so filled with what is nearest and dearest to the heart of Christ that we rose above all personal and local needs. Then we could cry to God for His Church, His Name, His house and His people, confessing the common failure and feeling the common need.
- Righteousness first. Daniel asks God to act "according to all your righteous acts" — the same righteousness he had just owned in the judgment. Mercy rests on righteousness, not against it.
- A bound God. He could plead it because God had put His name in the sanctuary and promised to hear a humbled people. Grasping that leaves the soul free and bold before Him.
- "Your," not "ours." City, mountain, people, sanctuary — Daniel hands each back to God. Faith refuses the label of rejection and holds the link.
- Sin owned, then removed. The ruin came from the sins of the people and their fathers. God had to forgive those sins before the city could rise again.
- God's name as the motive. No other place on earth carried that name. So His glory itself argues for Jerusalem's rescue — and this prayer asks nothing for the one praying.
And now, our God, hearken to the prayer of thy servant, and to his supplications, and cause thy face to shine upon thy sanctuary that is desolate, for the Lord's sake.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Incline thine ear, O my God, and hear; open thine eyes and behold our desolations, and the city that is called by thy name for we do not present our supplications before thee because of our righteousnesses, but because of thy manifold mercies.
Daniel has spent a lifetime in exile. He has just confessed his nation's sin. Now he asks God to look at the ruined city and the ruined sanctuary. The striking thing is the reason he gives God for hearing him — and the reason he refuses to give.
Verses 16 to 19 are the request part of Daniel's prayer. The order of his pleas matters. He starts with God's righteousness, and only later comes to God's mercy:
Daniel has confessed the sin and failure of God's people. He has also justified God in all His ways. Now he prays in the form of a request. Surprisingly, as we might think, his first plea is the righteousness of God, and only later the "great mercy" of God. He realises that mercy must be based on righteousness. He had already owned the "righteousness" of God in bringing all this sorrow on this people (verse 14). Now he pleads that in righteousness God would turn His anger and fury away from Jerusalem.
Daniel will not ask on the ground of what his people deserve. His confession makes no excuses either:
The marks of true confession come to light here. Daniel admits the evil with no attempt to excuse it or play it down. He owns that God's judgments and discipline are right. Then he asks God to grant deliverance, according to His word, "not … because of our righteousness, but because of Your great mercy." Let us cultivate these excellent features in our day. We too can ask for nothing on the ground of merit, but only on the ground of mercy.
What gives the words their weight is the man saying them. He had the least to answer for and said the most:
Daniel's confession is touching in the extreme. In it he owns the sin of his people as his own sin, even sins committed long before he was born. Since a youth he had been captive, though put at times in high office and standing in great favour. He had seen the Babylonian Empire crumble in a night. Now an old man, at the very end of his career, he shines never brighter than when on his knees in this chapter.
Each request names a different ruin and gives its own reason why God should act. Verse 17 asked for the sanctuary. Verse 18 widens the view:
Next he brings up the sanctuary in all its ruin. He asks God to cause His face to shine on His sanctuary, and the ground of that request is "for the Lord's sake" — an appeal that could not be refused. In the next verse (18) the subject of his petition is "our desolations, and the city that is called by Your name." For this he urges yet another plea: "We do not present our pleas before You because of our righteousness, but because of Your great mercy."
Notice the pronoun Daniel chooses for the city. It is not the one you would expect from a Jew mourning his homeland:
It is striking that when he pleads for the city, the mountain, the sanctuary and the people, he does not see them in relation to himself or the nation. He sees them as belonging to God. He does not say our city, or our sanctuary, or our people, but "Your city," "Your holy mountain," "Your sanctuary," and "Your people." Rising above all the failure, he turns to God and pleads, "We are Yours."
Daniel has set merit aside. So he needs another reason why God should act, and he finds it in God Himself:
"O my God, incline Your ear and hear … for we do not present our pleas before You because of our righteousness, but because of Your great mercy" (v. 18). "Delay not, for Your own sake, O my God, because Your city and Your people are called by Your name" (v. 19). Daniel makes God Himself the motive. The glory of God identifies itself with such a people. So faith that sees the sins of the people can still claim deliverance from the results of those sins. That very glory makes the forgiveness necessary, since God has identified Himself in goodness with the people… But if God is to act for His name, He must deliver Jerusalem. There was no other place on earth that bore His name.
Read the whole request and one absence stands out. Daniel, a captive far from home, never mentions his own case:
These are the three pleas Daniel urges before the Lord — His righteousness, His own sake, and His mercies… Here was the secret of his strength. He cared most of all for the name of his God, and for God's interests in His sanctuary, His city, and His people. He has not one single thing to ask for himself, or even for his fellow captives… So this is a prayer worth studying often, by anyone who wants, in any measure, to share God's heart about the sad state of His church in the world.
- Righteousness first. Daniel pleads God's righteousness before he pleads His mercy, because mercy must rest on righteousness. The God who was right to send the ruin is the God he asks to turn His anger away.
- Merit disowned. The one thing he refuses to bring is his own record; we can ask for nothing on the ground of merit, only on the ground of mercy.
- Yours, not ours. He says "Your city," "Your sanctuary," "Your people." He rises above the failure and pleads the one thing still true: we belong to You.
- The name as the argument. With merit gone, God Himself becomes the motive. The city bears His name, so acting for His name means delivering it.
- Nothing for himself. Not one request in this prayer is personal. That was the secret of its strength, and it is the pattern for anyone who carries God's people on their heart today.
Lord, hear! Lord, forgive! Lord, hearken and do! defer not, for thine own sake, O my God! for thy city and thy people are called by thy name.
Daniel has just spent a long prayer confessing the sins of his nation. Verse 19 is where that prayer breaks into short, urgent cries. What can a man plead when neither he nor his people have anything good to offer God?
The verse does not introduce a new request. It collects everything already said and presses it home.
These, then, are the three pleas Daniel urges before the Lord — His righteousness, His own sake, and His mercies. Having laid these out in His presence, he gathers up all his desires and pours them out in one last earnest entreaty: "O Lord, hear; O Lord, forgive. O Lord, pay attention and act. Delay not, for your own sake, O my God, because your city and your people are called by your name." Here was the secret of his strength. He was concerned most of all for the name of his God, and for His interests in His sanctuary, His city, and His people.
The order of Daniel's arguments is unexpected. He asks for pardon only after he has agreed with God's verdict against his people.
Surprising as it may seem to us, his first plea is the righteousness of God, and later the "great mercies" of God. He realises that mercy must be based on righteousness. He had already agreed that God was righteous in bringing all this sorrow on this people (verse 14). Now he asks God, in that same righteousness, to turn His anger and fury away from Jerusalem.
When Daniel says "for your own sake," he hands God a reason to act that has nothing to do with Israel's record.
God Himself is made the motive. Faith sees the sins of the people, and it sees them because of the glory of God — a glory that links itself with such a people. That faith can claim deliverance from the results of these sins. This very glory makes the forgiveness necessary, since God has linked Himself in goodness with the people... But if God is to act for His name, He must deliver Jerusalem, for there was no other place on earth that bore His name.
A devoted servant might have set himself above the guilty. Daniel does the opposite.
There is a wholesome flavour about this confession coming from such a devoted servant of the Lord. There is no "I thank you that I am not like other men." Such words would not fit in the mouth of a man like Daniel... He has not one word to say for himself or for his nation. But he has a great deal to say for God, and for the honour and glory of His holy Name. What he wants done for his nation by way of deliverance is for the Lord's sake.
One word keeps returning in Daniel's closing appeal — your.
Notice how he pleads for the city, the mountain, the sanctuary and the people. He does not see them as tied to himself or to the nation. He sees them as belonging to God. He does not say our city, or our sanctuary, or our people, but "your city," "your holy mountain," "your sanctuary," and "your people." Rising above all the failure, he turns to God and pleads, "We are yours."
Daniel asked God not to delay. God did not.
Before Daniel had finished praying, the answer to his cries came — at least as far as God revealing His mind about the things Daniel had prayed for... Let us remind ourselves again that God's ear is always open to the prayers of His people. As John wrote, "If we ask anything according to His will, He hears us," and it was so in this case. Daniel was in the secret of God's mind, and God delighted in His servant's supplications. Every word went up before Him like sweet incense, for in truth they were His own desires, born in His servant's heart.
One writer turns this prayer into a wish for us.
If only we knew more of the spirit of Daniel. If only our hearts were so filled with what is nearest and dearest to the heart of Christ that we could rise above all personal and local needs. Then we could cry to God for His Church, His Name, His house and His people, confessing the common failure and feeling the common need.
- Confess — Daniel first agrees that God was right to judge. Mercy must rest on righteousness.
- Plead — Daniel lays out three grounds — God's righteousness, God's own sake, God's great mercies. Not one of them is Israel's merit.
- Name — the city and the people bear God's name. His glory is tied to their rescue.
- Forget yourself — Daniel asks nothing for himself. He calls nothing "ours." The city, mountain, sanctuary and people are all "yours."
- Receive — the answer came before he stopped speaking. He was praying desires God Himself had planted in him.
And whilst I was speaking, and praying, and confessing my sin and the sin of my people Israel, and presenting my supplication before Jehovah my God for the holy mountain of my God;
Daniel is at the end of a long prayer over the ruin of Jerusalem. This verse is his own summary of the moment God broke in. It tells us three things at once: what he confessed, who he prayed for, and how far his words had got before the answer came.
The verse begins with "my sin" before it reaches the sin of the nation. That order is striking in a man whose enemies could find no fault in him at all.
Daniel's enemies say, "We shall not find anything against this Daniel, except we find it against him concerning the law of his God." Yet this same Daniel says, "I was confessing my sin" (Dan. 6:5; 9:20). Man saw nothing to condemn. Daniel knew God's eye saw much. And, like the honest man that he was, he records with his own hand that he had sins to confess to God.
He then joins his sin to "the sin of my people Israel." He had not caused the ruin he was mourning. Still he refused to stand apart from it. Commentators apply this to how believers should treat the failures of God's people in any age.
In the spirit of love, of patience, and of humiliation, we have always to take the place of those who have sinned. See Daniel. Daniel himself was righteous, yet he confesses the people's sin as his own, saying, "O Lord... we have sinned, and have committed iniquity... to us belongs confusion of face." The remnant should confess the sin and evil of those who have sinned. They had no share in the sin, but they must share its consequences, suffering in all the affliction with true sympathy and fellowship.
Notice what he pleads for: the holy hill in Jerusalem, where the temple stood. Not his release, not his safety, not even first of all the comfort of his people.
Notice that the self-forgetting prophet asks nothing at all for himself. He prays only for others. And even when he prays for them, he thinks not so much of their own blessing, or their relief from oppression, or even their return to the land. God's honour is uppermost in his thoughts. He speaks of the city as "your city," "your holy mountain," "your sanctuary that is desolate," and only then of "the people that is called by your name." Summing up his exercises, he ends with, "presenting my plea before the LORD my God for the holy hill of my God."
The next verse dates the moment by the evening oblation — the evening sacrifice at the temple. But that temple lay in rubble.
The evening oblation was the perpetual burnt offering. God appointed it to be presented morning and evening, without a break. The temple had been destroyed, so no one could offer it any longer. But Daniel stood before God in the value of that offering. That is, he identified himself in spirit with all its sweet fragrance, as what made him acceptable and made his prayers effective. So it is with our prayers now, when by faith and in the power of the Holy Spirit we rest completely on what Christ is, and on all the value of His sacrifice, before God.
Daniel says "while I was speaking" — and then says it a second time in the next verse, as if he cannot get over it.
He repeats twice, "while I was speaking"; he had not finished before Gabriel appeared and cut it short by delivering the prophecy that follows.
Daniel's words were not simply his own.
Daniel was in the secret of God's mind, and God delighted in His servant's prayers. Every word of them went up before Him like sweet incense. In truth, they were His own desires, which He had planted in His servant's heart.
What Daniel prayed about shapes what he is told. His burden was Israel and Jerusalem, so we must read the famous answer that follows the same way.
Notice, all his thoughts are about Israel and about Jerusalem. The prophecy is not about Christianity, but about Israel. There is no understanding it, unless we hold this fast... Then, in verse 24, the prophecy begins. It has to do with Daniel's people — "upon your people." It speaks of a special period, marked out in connection with Israel's full deliverance.
- Confession starts at home. A man no one could accuse still says "my sin" — because God's eye sees what human eyes miss.
- Confession widens. From "my sin" he moves to "the sin of my people," taking the place of the guilty without having shared the guilt.
- Confession empties self. He asks nothing for himself; his one plea is for the holy hill, and God's honour is what drives it.
- Confession rests on sacrifice. The temple lies in ruins, yet Daniel prays in the value of the evening burnt offering. That, not his own goodness, is his acceptance.
- Confession is answered mid-sentence. Gabriel arrives before the prayer ends, and the answer stays on the subject Daniel raised: his people and his city.