Sing of God's Deliverance-- Sing with the Three Young Men

Text: Daniel 3:1-30, and LSB #931 (which is based on Prayer of Azariah 29-68)

This evening we turn our attention to a song of God’s deliverance that was sung by Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego while they were in the fiery furnace. In the process, we get a very, very different perspective on God’s works in this world. The song invites you to consider God’s work from the perspective of the creation, itself. You may notice that the hymn really doesn’t spend any time expanding upon what God has done. Instead, what it does is call on all of creation— “all [the] works of God”— to “bless the Lord.” That is a very different perspective, isn’t it?

Now, as I’ve said before, the point of these midweek services is to look back at these songs of deliverance from the Old Testament and emphasize that you get to join in the song. The celebration of the Children of Israel, the celebration of Moses, the celebration of Hannah, the celebration of the Lord’s Servant— all of it points to the act of deliverance that God has done for you. Even though they were sung by people a long time ago in a very different land, it is entirely fitting for you to join in those songs, as well.

Tonight’s canticle doesn’t quite fit that pattern, though. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego are calling on others to join in their song. But they’re not calling on you. They’re calling on creation, itself, to join in the singing. Their song blesses God for His goodness, His power, and His love, but then most of it calls on creation to join them in praising God— the heavens, the angels, the waters: bless the Lord; the sun and moon, the stars, the wind: bless the Lord; fire and heat, night and day, light and darkness: bless the Lord. One part of creation after the next, after the next, is invited to join in praising God for what He has done. This is an unusual canticle.

Let’s go with that perspective for a moment. Let’s consider God’s acts of deliverance from the perspective— not of humanity— but from the perspective of this creation.

Let me try to clarify what I mean. Back in the 1700’s, there was a famous pastor by the name of Jonathan Edwards. One of his most famous sermons is called “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.” In that sermon, Pastor Edwards made a really amazing point about this creation. He said,

Were it not for the sovereign pleasure of God, the earth would not bear you one moment; for you are a burden to it; the creation groans with you; the creature is made subject to the bondage of your corruption, not willingly; the sun does not willingly shine upon you to give you light to serve sin and Satan; the earth does not willingly yield her increase to satisfy your lusts; nor is it willingly a stage for your wickedness to be acted upon; the air does not willingly serve you for breath to maintain the flame of life in your vitals, while you spend [that] life in the service of God’s enemies. God’s creatures are good, and were made for men to serve God with, and do not willingly subserve to any other purpose, and groan when they are abused to purposes so directly contrary to their nature and end. (Edwards, Jonathan. “Sinners in the Hands of An Angry God,” A Sermon Preached at Enfield, July 8th, 1741.)

That seems odd to us, doesn’t it? Especially as modern humans, we imagine that we are beginning to bring nature under our control. We take for granted our ability to use this creation however we see fit— to bend it to our comfort, to shape it to our needs, to channel it according to our own will. We have to admit that most of the forces of nature are still beyond our control, but we’re beginning to be able to master it.

But Edwards points out that scripture offers a much different picture of our relationship with this creation. “20 For the creation was subjected to futility,” St. Paul wrote, “not willingly, but because of him who subjected it...” (Romans 8:20).

From the moment Adam and Eve ate from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil— the ground, itself, was cursed. From that moment on, it would not provide nourishment for Adam or his descendants without a great deal of pain. “By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread,” God told Adam, “until you return to the ground from which you were taken” (Genesis 3:19). In that moment, this creation was subjected to futility, was placed in bondage to corruption.

And that corruption only got worse and worse. The Lord said, through Moses, “You shall not pollute the land in which you live, for blood pollutes the land, and no atonement can be made for the land for the blood that is shed in it, except by the blood of the one who shed it” (Numbers 35:33). And it took all of one generation for Adam’s sons to begin shedding the blood of their brothers. Corruption was added to corruption. The creation, itself, cries out for vengeance (Genesis 4:10). That is, until Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were cast into the fiery furnace.

Nebuchadnezzar found out that day that the control we feel like we have can over this creation can be an illusion. It’s not you and I that they serve. They are faithful servants of their creator.

Just as the sun does not willingly shine upon you to give you light to serve sin and Satan, just as the earth does not willingly yield her increase to satisfy your lusts, just as the air does not willingly serve you for breath to maintain the life that you spend in the service of God’s enemies, the fire in that furnace did not willingly serve Nebuchadnezzar’s murderous intent. And, for a moment, the creator and ruler of the universe did not hold it in bondage.

King Nebuchadnezzar had asked the three young men, “What god can deliver you out of my hands?” (Daniel 3:15). Arguably, the rest of this event serves to show how foolish that boast was. But you can go a step further. Not only was he foolish to think that he was more powerful than God, but he thinks far more of his power than he should. There is a fundamental point about this creation which should have made him realize how powerless he truly was. Even his power to command fire was shown to be an illusion. He would not have that power unless it was given to Him by God. And, for a moment that day, God did not subject the fire to the frustration of serving Nebuchadnezzar’s evil will.

That is why sun and moon had reason to rejoice. That is why the stars and the wind had reason to rejoice. That is why the fire and heat had reason to rejoice. For a moment, they shared in God’s deliverance. Even Nebuchadnezzar blessed the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, who sent his angel and delivered his servants, who trusted in him (Daniel 3:28). That day, all of creation sang out with joy and the glimpse of the deliverance that the Creator has in store for His creation.

But it was just a moment, just a glimpse of the deliverance that God would bring about. If it rejoiced that day when the Angel shielded the three young men from the flames, who can imagine its joy when that same Angel of the Lord took on human flesh and was born into this world? How humbled it must have been to be able to shelter and nourish and warm and clothe and sustain its Creator. How glad the sun must have been to give light to the One who said, “Let there be light.” How eager the water must have been to uphold the one who separated the waters above from the waters below and provide a path for Him to walk on. How happy the earth must have been to provide a stage for the One who separated the waters with dry ground to carry out His work. How relieved the wind and the waves must have been to hear His command, “Be still!” How joyfully the water was turned to the finest wine; the bread and fish were multiplied to feed thousands; the mud gave a blind man his sight. How gladly each one served their Creator.

And how they must have wondered at the highest of God’s creatures— man— who resented Him; who could not understand Him; who rejected Him. The wind and the waves gladly obeyed Him. Why couldn’t man?

What were they thinking on the day that the Creator allowed His face to be struck; His royal head to be pierced with a crown of thorns; His back to be torn by the whips; His hands and feet to be pierced by the nails. It’s no wonder that the sun refused to shine that day, refused to give light to such acts. It’s no wonder that the earth quaked at the events being played out on it.

How did creation hold together as the One through whom all things were made— the One who formed the first man from the dust of the earth and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life— breathed His last and was, Himself, laid in the dust of death?

When the sun rose three days later, it rose upon a world that was transformed. Its frustration was transformed to eager longing. Its bondage to corruption was brought to an end. The air rang out, that morning, with the angel’s message: “He is risen!” The blood that Christ had shed on the cross had now cleansed the ground of the blood that had compounded corruption upon corruption. The brow that once was crowned with thorns was now crowned in glory.

It remains to be seen exactly how much control we are able to develop over this creation. But the water that rejoiced at being turned into the finest wine, now has the privilege of being joined to God’s command and promise in order to be used to give you new birth by the Holy Spirit (Titus 3). The bread that rejoiced at being multiplied in order to feed thousands, now has the privilege of delivering the very body and blood of Christ in order to feed you with forgiveness of sins, eternal life, and salvation.

The sun now gladly shines to give you light to serve your savior— and so that men may see your good deeds and give glory to your Father in heaven. The air now gladly gives you breath to bear witness to what God has done and to sing His praises. The earth now gladly provides a stage upon which Christ continues to love and to care for His creatures through you. It gladly yields its increase to strengthen you to serve God and love your neighbors. It gladly receives the bodies of God’s saints and keeps them in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.

All of creation is groaning together in the pains of childbirth (Romans 8:20), waiting for the day when it is finally and fully set free from its bondage to corruption and obtains the freedom of the glory of the children of God (Rom. 8:21); when “10 every knee [will] bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, 11 and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Philippians 2:10-11); and when all things will be made new (Rev. 21:5).

It is a different perspective, but the story is the same. Tonight, along with all of creation, you are invited to sing with the three young men of God’s deliverance.