John Calvin Commentary Daniel 9:18

"O my God, incline thine ear, and hear; open thine eyes, and behold our desolations, and the city which is called by thy name: for we do not present our supplications before thee for our righteousness, but for thy great mercies` sake." — Daniel 9:18 (ASV)

This short clause breathes a wonderful fervor and vehemence of prayer, for Daniel pours forth his words as if he were carried out of himself. God’s children are often in an ecstasy in prayer; they moan and plead with God, use various modes of speech and much tautology, and cannot satisfy themselves.

In forms of speech, indeed, hypocrites are sometimes superior; they not only rival God’s sincere worshippers but are also altogether carried along by outward show, and by a vast heap of words in their prayers, they arrive at much elegance and splendor, and even become great rhetoricians. But Daniel here only displays some portion of his feelings; there is no doubt he wished to bear witness to the whole Church how vehemently and fervently he prayed, with the aim of inflaming others with similar ardor.

In this verse, he says, O my God, incline thine ear and hear. It would have been sufficient simply to have said, listen; but as God seemed to remain deaf despite so many prayers and entreaties, the Prophet begs Him to incline His ear. There is a silent antithesis here, because the faithful had seemed to be uttering words to the deaf, while their groans had been continually carried upwards to heaven during seventy years without the slightest effect.

He adds next, open thine eyes and see. For God’s neglecting to answer must have cast down the hopes of the pious, because the Israelites were treated so undeservedly. They were oppressed by every possible form of reproach and suffered the most grievous trouble in their fortunes as well as in everything else.

Yet God passed by all these calamities of His people as if His eyes were shut, and for this reason Daniel now prays Him to open His eyes. It is profitable to notice these circumstances with diligence, to learn how to pray to God: first, when at peace and able to utter our petitions without the slightest unease; and next, when sorrow and anxiety seize upon all our senses and darkness everywhere surrounds us. Even then our prayers should be steadily continued in the midst of these great obstacles.

We also learn that while God presses us to the very extremity of our lives, we ought to be still more importunate, because the purpose of this our severe affliction is to awaken us from our slothfulness.

Thus it is said in the Psalms, The saint will approach thee in an accepted time (Psalms 32:6). Our opportunity arises when the most overwhelming necessities confront us, because God then stirs us up and, as I have said, corrects our slowness. Let us learn, therefore, to accustom ourselves to vehemence in prayer whenever God urges and incites us by a stimulus of this kind.

He next says, Look upon our desolations—of this we have already said enough—and on the city on which thy name is called. Again Daniel sets before himself the sure foundation of his confidence: Jerusalem had been chosen as God’s sanctuary. We know God’s adoption to have been without repentance, as Paul says (Romans 11:29).

Daniel, therefore, here takes the strongest method of appealing to God’s honor: by urging God’s desire to be worshipped on Mount Zion, and by His act of destining Jerusalem for Himself as a royal seat.

The phrase "to be called by God’s name" means reckoning either the place or the nation as belonging to God.

For God’s name is said to be called upon us when we profess to be His people and He distinguishes us by His mark, as if He would openly show to the eyes of mankind His recognition of our profession. Thus God’s name was called upon Jerusalem, because His election had been celebrated for many ages, and He had also gathered together one peculiar people and pointed out a place where He wished sacrifices to be offered.

He adds afterwards, Because we do not pour forth our prayers before thy face upon or through our own righteousness, but on account of thy many or great mercies (כי, ki, “but,” is in my opinion put adversatively here). Daniel more clearly confirms what was said yesterday, showing how his hope was founded in God’s mercy alone.

But I have stated how he expresses his meaning more clearly by opposing two members of a sentence naturally contrary to each other. Not in our righteousness, says he, but in thy compassions. Although this comparison is not always put so distinctly, yet this rule must be held: whenever the saints rely upon the grace of God, they renounce at the same time all their merits and find nothing in themselves to render God propitious.

But this passage must be diligently noticed, where Daniel carefully excludes whatever opposes God’s gratuitous goodness; and he next shows how, by bringing forward anything of their own, as if men could deserve God’s grace, they diminish in an equal degree from His mercy.

Daniel’s words also contain another truth, manifesting the impossibility of reconciling two opposite things: namely, the faithful taking refuge in God’s mercy and yet bringing anything of their own and resting upon their merits.

As, therefore, a complete incompatibility exists between the gratuitous goodness of God and all the merits of man, how foolish are those who strive to combine them, according to the usual practice of the Papacy! And even now, those who do not yield willingly to God and His word wish to throw a covering over their error by ascribing half the praise to God and His mercy, and retaining the remainder as peculiar to man.

But all doubt is removed when Daniel places these two principles in opposition to each other, according to my former remark—the righteousness of man and the mercy of God. Our merits, in truth, will no more unite with the grace of God than fire and water, mingled in the vain attempt to seek some agreement between things so opposite.

He next calls these mercies “great,” as we previously remarked on the use of a great variety of words to express the various ways in which the people were amenable to His judgment. Here, therefore, he implores God’s mercies as both many and great, as the people’s wickedness had arrived at its very utmost pitch.

As for the following expression, The people pour down their prayers before God, Scripture seems in some degree at variance with itself through the frequent use of a different metaphor, representing prayers as raised towards heaven. This phrase often occurs—“O God, we elevate or raise our prayers to You.”

Here also, as in other places, the Spirit dictates a different form of expression, representing the faithful as casting down their vows and prayers upon the ground. Each of these expressions is equally suitable because, as we said yesterday, both repentance and faith ought to be united in our prayers.

But repentance throws men downwards, and faith raises them upwards again. At first glance, these two ideas do not seem easily reconciled; but by weighing these two aspects of a true and logical form of prayer, we shall find it impossible to raise our prayers and vows to heaven without, so to speak, depressing them to the very lowest depths.

For on the one hand, when the sinner comes into the presence of God, he must necessarily fall completely down, indeed, even vanish as if lifeless before Him. This is the genuine effect of repentance. And in this way, the saints cast down all their prayers whenever they suppliantly acknowledge themselves unworthy of the notice of the Almighty.

Christ sets before us a picture of this kind in the character of the publican, who beats on his breast and begs for pardon with a dejected countenance (Luke 18:13). Thus also the sons of God throw down their prayers in that spirit of humility which springs from penitence.

Then they raise their prayers by faith, for when God invites them to Himself and gives them the witness of His propitious disposition, they raise themselves up and overtop the clouds, indeed, even heaven itself.

From this, this doctrine also shines forth: Thou art a God who hearest prayer, as we read in the Psalms (Psalms 65:2). In consequence of the faithful determining God to be propitious, they boldly approach His presence and pray with minds erect, through an assurance that God is well pleased with the sacrifice which they offer.