A New Identity in a New Babylon

My identity is not defined by my culture, but secured by my God.

Good morning, church.

If you were to meet someone new today, how would you introduce yourself? Think about it for a second. What are the first few things you say? For most of us, it’s our name, and then almost immediately, what we do. "Hi, I'm John. I'm a teacher." "I'm Sarah, I'm in sales." "I'm David, I'm retired." Maybe we mention our family role: "I'm a mom of three." "I'm a grandfather." We might mention where we're from or what our favorite team is.

We all do it. We have these pre-packaged identities, these little labels that we offer up to the world so they know where to place us. And there's nothing inherently wrong with that. But if we're honest, there's a pressure that comes with it, isn't there? A pressure to have the right labels. The right job, the exemplary accomplishments, the right status. It’s like crafting the perfect social media profile or a resume. We carefully select the highlights, the things that make us look good, competent, and successful. We curate an image. We live in a world that is constantly, relentlessly, trying to tell us who we are and what we should value. It’s a non-stop firehose of messages from social media, from our workplaces, from the news, all telling us: This is what matters. This is who you should be.

And if you’re a follower of Jesus, that pressure can feel like being caught in a current, constantly trying to pull you away from the shore. You can feel the tension between the values of the world and the values of the Kingdom of God.

This morning, we're beginning a new series called "Exiles." Over the next four weeks, we're going to dive into the life of a man who understood this pressure better than almost anyone in history. His name is Daniel. And his story begins with him being ripped from his home, conquered, and dragged into the heart of the most potent, glittering, and pagan empire on earth: Babylon.

If you have your Bible, turn to Daniel 1. We’re going to spend most of our time there today.

I want you to try and put yourself in his shoes. Imagine the scene. Daniel is likely a teenager, maybe 15 or 16 years old. He’s from the noble class in Jerusalem, the city of God. He’s been raised on the scriptures, on the stories of Abraham, Moses, and David. His whole world is shaped by the reality of Yahweh, a holy and righteous God. And in an instant, it’s all gone. The armies of Nebuchadnezzar have swept through, and he is now a captive. A prisoner of war. He is marched hundreds of miles across the desert and dropped into the center of Babylon—a city of immense power, wealth, and breathtaking idolatry. This wasn't just a change of scenery; it was a violent uprooting of everything he knew.

Imagine the culture shock. The fear. The loneliness. But the king of Babylon has a plan for Daniel and his friends. He doesn’t just want to hold them captive; he wants to change them. He wants to erase their old identity and stamp a new one onto their hearts. It’s a battle for the soul. The core question of Daniel 1 is this: Will they conform to the pressures of Babylon, or will they hold onto their identity as followers of God?

And church, that is the same battle we face today. We live as exiles in a culture that is constantly trying to squeeze us into its mold. The story of Daniel is our story. And it shows us how not only to survive, but thrive, by being anchored in an identity that is not defined by our culture, but is secured by our God.

The World's Play for Your Identity

Look with me at Daniel 1:3 .

Daniel 1:3 KJV 1900

And the king spake unto Ashpenaz the master of his eunuchs, that he should bring certain of the children of Israel, and of the king’s seed, and of the princes;

The king has a strategy. It is brilliant, and it is subtle. It’s a three-part plan to dismantle their Hebrew identity systematically.

He gives them a new education.

Daniel 1:4 says the plan was to "teach them the literature and language of the Chaldeans."

Daniel 1:4 KJV 1900

Children in whom was no blemish, but well favoured, and skilful in all wisdom, and cunning in knowledge, and understanding science, and such as had ability in them to stand in the king’s palace, and whom they might teach the learning and the tongue of the Chaldeans.

This wasn't just Rosetta Stone for Babylonian. This was indoctrination. It was a full immersion into a new worldview, a new philosophy, a new set of values that stood in total opposition to everything they had ever been taught. They were being taught to see the world through a Babylonian lens. Babylon wanted to shape their thoughts. It wanted to define their reality.

And our world does the same thing. Through media, through academia, through the endless scroll on our phones, our culture is constantly pushing a narrative. It tells us what is right and wrong, what is worth celebrating, and what is worth canceling. It wants to re-educate us in its image.

[ILLUSTRATION PROMPT: Talk about a specific example of how the world tries to "re-educate" us. This could be a popular movie's message about fulfillment being found in self-actualization, a university's philosophy that truth is relative, or how social media defines success through likes and follower counts. Explain how that specific message clashes with a biblical worldview of finding fulfillment in God, truth in His Word, and success in faithfulness. Homosexual agenda especially in movies and television.]

The king gives them a new diet.

Daniel 1:5: "The king assigned them a daily portion of the food that the king ate, and of the wine that he drank."

Daniel 1:5 KJV 1900

And the king appointed them a daily provision of the king’s meat, and of the wine which he drank: so nourishing them three years, that at the end thereof they might stand before the king.

Now, this sounds like a pretty good deal! You go from being a prisoner to eating off the king's menu. But there was a catch. This food, the best in the empire, was first offered up as a sacrifice to Babylonian idols, to Marduk and Bel. To eat this food was an implicit act of worship. It was a way of saying, "The king is my provider. Babylon is my sustainer." It was a compromise of allegiance. Babylon wanted to shape what they longed for, what they craved.

It reminds me of how a boat sinks. A boat doesn't sink because it's in the water. Boats are designed for the water. A boat sinks when the water gets in the boat. And it usually doesn't happen with a giant tidal wave; it happens through a small, unnoticed crack in the hull. A tiny leak that seems insignificant at first, but over time, it lets in enough of the outside world to pull the whole thing under. For Daniel, eating the king's food was that small crack. It seemed like a small thing, but it was letting Babylon into his heart.

And the world offers us its delicacies, doesn't it? It provides a version of success, a version of pleasure, a version of fulfillment. And it looks good. But so often, to partake in it requires us to compromise our convictions, to dull our appetite for the things of God.

A professional, early in their career, was eager to prove their worth. A senior colleague requested they "embellish" some numbers in a presentation. "It's just a little bit," the colleague said, "everyone does it. It's not really lying, it's just presenting the data in the most favorable light."

At first, there was discomfort. The professional's faith emphasized honesty and integrity. However, justifications arose. It was a small compromise and wouldn't hurt anyone. It would help the colleague, and by extension, the company. Refusal might jeopardize career prospects.

The professional agreed.

The presentation was successful. The colleague praised the contribution, and there was brief satisfaction. That satisfaction was soon replaced by unease. It was a tiny crack in integrity.

Over time, those "small" compromises became easier. Minor dishonesty became more frequent. Spiritual senses began to grow numb. Clear boundaries between right and wrong became blurred. Faith felt more like a distant memory.

The damage took time to realize. It wasn't one big fall from grace, but a slow erosion. A series of seemingly insignificant choices brought about a gradual dimming of spiritual light. Allegiance was compromised, not to a specific person or institution, but to the very principles that formed the foundation of faith. The appetite for success and acceptance had overshadowed the hunger for righteousness.

The king gives them a new name.

Look at Daniel 1:7.

Daniel 1:7 KJV 1900

Unto whom the prince of the eunuchs gave names: for he gave unto Daniel the name of Belteshazzar; and to Hananiah, of Shadrach; and to Mishael, of Meshach; and to Azariah, of Abed-nego.

Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah. Their Hebrew names all pointed to the one true God. Daniel means "God is my Judge." Hananiah, "The Lord is gracious." Mishael, "Who is what God is?" Azariah, "The Lord has helped." Their very names were testimonies. But the chief official gives them new names: Belteshazzar, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. These new names honored pagan gods. It was a direct, blatant attempt to erase their primary identity. To get them to forget who they belonged to. Babylon wanted to shape who they were.

And the world tries to re-label us all the time. It wants to label you by your job title, by your political party, by your past mistakes, by your worldly success or failure. It wants you to find your identity in anything and everything other than your true name: child of God.

Education, appetite, and name. Mind, heart, and identity. This was Babylon's playbook. And it is the world's playbook today.

The Resolve of a Godly Identity

The pressure is immense. The current is strong. And then we get to

Daniel 1:8.

Daniel 1:8 KJV 1900

But Daniel purposed in his heart that he would not defile himself with the portion of the king’s meat, nor with the wine which he drank: therefore he requested of the prince of the eunuchs that he might not defile himself.

This is the pivot point of the entire story, and I want you to feel the weight of this one little word: "But."

"But Daniel resolved that he would not defile himself with the king's food, or with the wine that he drank."

Everything is pushing him one way, but he has resolved. The Hebrew here for "resolved" means he "set it upon his heart." This was not a spontaneous, emotional reaction. This was a premeditated conviction. This was a line Daniel had drawn in the sand in his own heart long before his feet ever touched the soil of Babylon. He had already decided who he was and who he would serve.

And notice his wisdom. He doesn't throw a fit. He doesn't start a protest. He couldn't control the new education, and he couldn't stop them from calling him a new name. But he could control what he consumed. He chose his battle wisely. This wasn't about being a rebel for the sake of rebellion; it was about being faithful in an area of personal conscience and worship.

His conviction was firm, but his approach was full of grace. He respectfully asks the official for permission. He makes a proposal. This shows us that standing for God in a hostile culture doesn't mean we have to be obnoxious or combative. We can be firm in our resolve and gracious in our approach.

Have you resolved? Have you set it upon your heart? Or are you slowly, unintentionally, conforming to the world around you?

The Favor of a Sovereign God

Daniel takes a stand. He honors God. And now look at how God responds. Daniel 1:9:

Daniel 1:9 KJV 1900

Now God had brought Daniel into favour and tender love with the prince of the eunuchs.

Don't miss this. Daniel acted, and God had already been acting. Daniel’s faithfulness was never in a vacuum. He stepped out in faith, and he landed on the solid ground of God's sovereignty. God had already been at work, preparing the heart of this pagan official.

This leads to the famous 10-day test: vegetables and water. From a purely nutritional standpoint, this is a terrible idea if you're trying to look healthier than guys eating the best protein and carbs in the empire. This was an act of profound trust. Daniel and his friends were staking their entire future, their very lives, on God's ability to sustain them, not the king's.

And the result? Look at Daniel1:15:

Daniel 1:15 KJV 1900

And at the end of ten days their countenances appeared fairer and fatter in flesh than all the children which did eat the portion of the king’s meat.

God honored their trust. But He didn't stop there. Daniel 1:17:

Daniel 1:17 KJV 1900

As for these four children, God gave them knowledge and skill in all learning and wisdom: and Daniel had understanding in all visions and dreams.

And Daniel 1:20:

Daniel 1:20 KJV 1900

And in all matters of wisdom and understanding, that the king inquired of them, he found them ten times better than all the magicians and astrologers that were in all his realm.

Here is a crucial insight for us as exiles: God doesn't call us to be irrelevant. He calls us to be distinct. And it is often through our distinction, through our faithfulness when it’s hard, that God grants us excellence and influence for His glory. They honored God, and God honored them.

So what does this mean for us, here, today?

The world has a strategic plan for your identity. It wants to change how you think, what you desire, and who you are. But the story of Daniel shows us the counter-strategy. A premeditated resolve to honor God, acted out with wisdom and grace, unleashes the favor of our sovereign God.

This isn't just an Old Testament idea. This is the heartbeat of the New Testament. The Apostle Peter writes this to a group of scattered, persecuted believers—exiles, just like Daniel, and just like us.

1 Peter 2:9-11

1 Peter 2:9–11 KJV 1900

But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should shew forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvellous light: Which in time past were not a people, but are now the people of God: which had not obtained mercy, but now have obtained mercy. Dearly beloved, I beseech you as strangers and pilgrims, abstain from fleshly lusts, which war against the soul;

This is our identity card. This is who you are if you are in Christ. You are chosen. You are royal. You are holy. You belong to Him. And because of that, we are called to live as "sojourners and exiles." Not because this world is our enemy, but simply because it is not our home. We belong to a better kingdom.

So I want to leave you with a few questions to carry into your week.

Where is "Babylon" trying to re-educate, re-feed, or re-name you? Is it pressure at your job? Is it the subtle pull of social media trends? Is it the anger and division of our political climate? Be specific. Where do you feel that pull to conform?

Have you "resolved" in your heart where you will draw the line? Or are you just drifting? It's not too late to draw that line today.

What is one specific area this week where you can live out your true identity in Christ? Maybe it's choosing integrity on a project. Maybe it's speaking with grace online. Maybe it's turning off the noise and spending five minutes remembering who God says you are.

My challenge for us today is to move from being accidental exiles—just feeling a little out of place in the world—to being intentional exiles.

Think of it like the difference between a fan and a player at an away game. A fan might travel to the opposing team's city and feel out of place, but they're just there to watch. A player, on the other hand, steps onto that hostile field wearing their home team's jersey. The crowd might be against them, the environment is unfamiliar, but they know who they are. Their identity is written on their jersey. They are there with a purpose: to represent their team and play by their coach's rules, not to win the approval of the opposing crowd.

God has not called us to be fans, just watching history go by. He has put a jersey on us. He calls us players. He calls us to live with purpose, with conviction, and with a quiet confidence, not because of who we are, but because we know Whose name is on our jersey and who we represent.

Let's pray.