Walk On

 

Daniel asked, the man clothed in linen:  “O my lord, when will earth’s troubles come to an end?” The answer was a set of cryptic numbers: “The end will come in 1290 days… but blessed is he who waits and arrives at the 1,335 days.” (Daniel 12:12)

 

Uh… Say what?

 

Commentators have tried to make sense of these numbers for 2500 years or more, in general taking them to refer to the last days of the Greek king, Antiochus IV who, in a fit of pique desecrated the temple in Jerusalem by sacrificing a pig on the altar and burning the sacred scrolls. They try to fit the “days” into the period between this desecration (the so-called, “Abominable Desolation”) and the rededication of the temple under the Maccabees, which some interpret as the “end.” 

 

Other interpreters envision a time yet future and place these days in a period designated as the Great Tribulation.

 

Perhaps someday we’ll uncover other data that will enable us to work within these numerical parameters, though the man later informed Daniel that “the words are shut up and sealed until the time of the end” (12:9). Perhaps we are not to know what these “days” mean until they’re upon us.  

 

In the meantime, while the experts work out the problems of this text, can we not see here an admonition to endure hardship joyfully, confidently, hopefully for days and days and then for a few days more. 

 

In that spirit, then, there’s a word for old Daniel...and for you and me: “Walk on and on and on till the end. And 

 

“Those who are wise will understand” (Daniel 12:8).

 

Up-Hill

 

Does the road wind up-hill all the way? 

Yes, to the very end. 

Will the day’s journey take the whole long day? 

From morn to night, my friend. 

 

But is there for the night a resting-place? 

A roof for when the slow dark hours begin. 

May not the darkness hide it from my face? 

You cannot miss that inn. 

 

Shall I meet other wayfarers at night? 

Those who have gone before. 

Then must I knock, or call when just in sight? 

They will not keep you standing at that door. 

 

Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak? 

Of labor you shall find the sum. 

Will there be beds for me and all who seek? 

Yea, and rest for all who come.  —Christine Rossetti

 

David Roper

17.27.20