The Sin And Salvation Of A Self-Made Man Series

Many of us here today are familiar Charles Colson, not so much because of who he was, but who he came to be.

You see, originally, Charles Colson was the proverbial self-made man. By his mid-thirties he had founded a great law firm that was influential in both Boston and New York. And in his late thirties, his reputation as a great attorney had landed him an incredibly prestigious job—he became special counsel to the president of the United States, who at that time, in the early 1970s, happened to be Richard Nixon.

And an effective “special counsel” he was. He was so effective as the President’s special counsel in successfully getting things done that H.R. Haldeman, the president’s chief of staff, called him the President’s “hit man.” Others called him “the hatchet man.” Colson received those accolades, if you can call them that, because he was willing to be brutal in getting others to submit to the President’s wishes. In fact, a sign too profane to repeat here, hung over his desk in his office indicating that the way to get others to do what you want was to grab them in an especially painful area, and pull.

In other words, Charles Colson was a self-made man. My experience with the self-made men I have come across is that they are highly impressed with their own accomplishments and themselves, and little impressed by God. That was true of Colson before an historic break-in of Democratic headquarters at Washington’s Watergate Hotel led to the fall of the Nixon Presidency, and the fall of all the President’s men. Colson was one of those self-willed men who fell along with Nixon, and he eventually paid by losing all that had defined him—his reputation, his license to practice law, and eventually even his freedom—he spent seven months in an Alabama Prison.

But a funny thing happened on the way to prison. A friend gave Colson a copy of C. S. Lewis’ Mere Christianity¸Colson humbled himself and trusted Christ, and his character and life completely changed.

His story is a modern demonstration of the principle that we need to humble ourselves or be humbled, because God will have His way either way.

It’s a story that has played out many times in history, many perhaps never more impressively than in the life of King Nebuchadnezzar in Babylon some 2600 years.

If you’ve been with us for our series on the Book of Daniel, you know this about Nebuchadnezzar. He had conquered the then-known world, including the nation of Israel, by 605 B.C. He became the unquestioned ruler of the greatest human world kingdom ever known, by the testimony of the Word of God. He had absolutely everything going his way as a relatively young man. But he was an arrogant, brutal, heartless dictator when he encountered some young men from the tribe of Judah in the early years of his reign in Babylon. The young men were exiles from Israel who feared the one true living God of Israel. Their names were Daniel, Hananiah, Azariah and Mishael, and because of their devotion to their God, God began showing up in the court of the King in incredible ways, revealing Himself to the King in such a way that by the start of Daniel 4, the king had acknowledged that their God was the most High God and had issued a decree that any who spoke against this God in his Kingdom be torn limb from limb. But one thing he hadn’t done was to give credit to this God for all he had and all he was—one thing he hadn’t done was to turn from his sins and make this God his own God. And it would take a mighty humbling work of God to bring this about.

As we turn to Daniel 4 this morning, it’s important to note, I think, that this is one of the very few sections of the entire Bible which was clearly written by a non-Jew, or a Gentile. The only other section of Scripture that I know of that was written by a Gentile is the Gospel of Luke. However, Daniel 4 makes it clear that this entire chapter was written by a Babylonian, Nebuchadnezzar himself, as a testimony of his conversion to repentant faith in the God of Israel.

And it was a testimony, a public declaration, that was published throughout Nebuchadnezzar’s kingdom—to the very ends of the earth. That is clear from verse one: “Nebuchadnezzar the king to all the peoples, nations, and men of every language that live in all the earth. ‘May your peace abound!” Notice, he has written this to be read, to be proclaimed to all peoples, nations and men of every language (it was translated into every known language) so that the people who lived in all the earth might hear it or read it. And it comes with a blessing, a wish for blessing upon all these peoples, as though the message that was about to be imparted would bring that blessing, a blessing of peace, or “Shalom”—the wholeness, happiness and blessing that only the God of the Jews could bring. This desire for blessing upon all the men of the earth seems out of character for the Nebuchadnezzar we have become familiar with in Daniel 1-3. The Nebuchadnezzar presented there had been a terror for many peoples. anyone who did not bow to his will could be thrown into the fire or be torn limb from limb for the slightest of offenses, including the inability to interpret his dreams.