King Nebuchadnezzar is recognized even
in modern society for his successful military exploits. He used the wealth
garnered from the places he invaded to turn the city of Babylon into a virtual
paradise for himself and his subjects. Archeologists today tell us he not only
built new walls around the city, but also strengthened their defenses. His is
the recognition for the new moat, the Processional Way elegantly repaved with
limestone, and fantastical temples to the gods Marduk and Nabu.
Perhaps the most innovative piece of work was the Ishtar Gate. It was made of bricks, glazed cobalt blue, and imprinted with bulls and dragons. The gate also bears an inscription: “I [Nebuchadnezzar] placed wild bulls and ferocious dragons in the gateways and thus adorned them with luxurious splendor so that people might gaze on them in wonder.”
The vanity didn’t end there. Experts estimate a possible fifteen million bricks were used in the building and renovation of Babylon. Many of these bear a stamped inscription, reminding the viewer that it was Nebuchadnezzar who was responsible for the beauty that stood there.
We also have the account in Daniel 4:
29-30: At the end of twelve months he
walked in the palace of the kingdom of Babylon. The king spake, and said, Is
not this great Babylon, that I have built for the house of the kingdom by the
might of my power, and for the honour of my majesty?
We know what happened next. The Voice prophesying
the end of the kingdom and the king himself eventually put out to pasture as a
wild beast.
Where did the innovative, visionary
conqueror go wrong? Here we have someone who pushed his ideas and agenda to new
heights, who did things the citizens of Babylon had never dreamed possible. And
yet, something was amiss.
I think you can guess the answer as
well as I can. It lies in those haughty inscriptions. It is seen in every one of
the fifteen million bricks that bear his name. And it is heard in the words
uttered in the palace walls. "I… adorned with luxurious splendor, my power, my
majesty."
There was nothing wrong with the
projects themselves—beautification, easier access to important places,
protection for the city’s inhabitants. The problem came in the self-centered
attitude of the king.
It’s so easy to live a self-centered
life rather than a God-centered life. I’m not talking about big things. I’m
talking about little things. I’m talking about a life completely saturated with
God’s love. Are we ready and willing to ask ourselves why we do the things we
do?
When I go to town, am I greeting
people with a smile because I want them to think well of me or is it because I
want them in some measure to see the God who loves me? When I volunteer to help
clean, bake food, or run an errand for someone else, are my actions me-based or
God-based?
It is not my intention to put anyone
into bondage over the things they do. I believe God loves us enough to speak to
us clearly when there is too much “me” involved. I know this because He has spoken to
me before.
I once wrote a letter to a church
sister who was going through a struggle. She was someone I was not particularly
close to, but we enjoyed one another’s company when together. To my shame, as I
wrote that letter, I thought to myself of how grateful she would be to receive
it. I imagined she would tell people around her, and I would get all kinds of
recognition for this kind deed of encouragement. Somewhere in there the Spirit
spoke to me. Thankfully I was granted vision to see my folly and the letter was
never sent, but for a moment I was walking the palace halls with
Nebuchadnezzar. I was admiring the thing I was building and hoped others would
admire it too.
Was there something wrong with writing
a letter? No. Was my attitude self-centered rather than God-centered? Yes. That’s
probably not the only time I have tried to stamp my name on the things of God. It’s
part of our sinful nature to want recognition, but the power of God gives us
the grace and humility to rise above these desires.
As I go about building the rest of my
life, I want to leave my name off and imprint God’s name on everything. I don’t
want a single brick dedicated to myself. I want every cornerstone of my new
buildings imprinted with the only Name that deserves to be glorified. I want
His love to be carved upon the gates of my heart. And someday when I meet Him
face to face, I pray self will be gone, with only a reflection of the glory of the Father remaining.
Perhaps the most innovative piece of work was the Ishtar Gate. It was made of bricks, glazed cobalt blue, and imprinted with bulls and dragons. The gate also bears an inscription: “I [Nebuchadnezzar] placed wild bulls and ferocious dragons in the gateways and thus adorned them with luxurious splendor so that people might gaze on them in wonder.”
The vanity didn’t end there. Experts estimate a possible fifteen million bricks were used in the building and renovation of Babylon. Many of these bear a stamped inscription, reminding the viewer that it was Nebuchadnezzar who was responsible for the beauty that stood there.