The importance of walking with a friend (thoughts on Nebuchadnezzar on the rooftop)

“…while strolling on the roof of

the royal palace in Babylon, the king

was saying: Great Babylon! Was it not

built by me… and for the majesty of

my glory?”  (Daniel 4: 26-27)

I am a walker.  I love to get up early and go for walks alone through the neighborhood, down to the park, saying hi to the neighbors who are also early birds.  Over the year we have become a little sunrise community. And we notice when someone is missing. For instance, I had been sleeping in for a few days recently and when I got back out at my normal time, a man I see most mornings greeted me with an enthusiastic: Hola, mi amigo.

His voice was so full of cheer and welcome that I was practically walking on air most of the day.  Hola, mi amigo.  Not only was it nice to feel noticed, and greeted with such friendliness, but I have to say I was also struck by the words, the sound of the phrase: mi amigo.  My friend is what it means, but the sound of it says something more; that interior rhyme –the two “mi” sounds—gives this greeting a kind of warmth and lightness that the English phrase: my friend lacks.  There is a kind of delight in this phrase that endears it to me and endears that speaker to me.  He is someone whose name I don’t know.  Before now, I have always greeted him with a smile and a friendly, “Good morning.” But now, I think I can’t stop thinking about his smile, his slightly leaning gait, and that delightful greeting. And now, I want to say something more to “mi amigo.”

As I was saying, for most of the day I was delighted by the memory of that greeting echoing in my ear.  It gave an incomprehensible sense of peace and joy.  I felt not only noticed, but somehow, I felt loved because of the gentle and sweet words of a stranger. 

The next time you see a neighbor on the street, remember that.  A simple, sincere greeting can mean so much.

Back to my other point: Because I am a walker, I think I probably pick up on that image when it shows up in books and poems and movies. I feel a kinship with the “walkers” of the world.   And here I was reading about the king of Babylon strolling on his rooftop, surveying his own glorious kingdom and giving thanks to the one who built it: himself! For his own majesty and glory.  Nebuchadnezzar goes for a walk on his palace rooftop and gazing at his own splendid kingdom begins to sing his own praises, his own glory.  Life is pretty good when you are the king of Babylon.  He’s conquered most of the known world, has enslaved the people of Israel and now has a moment to rest and reflect and what does he see, what does he reflect on but his own power and glory and majesty. He is –as far as he can tell—the king of the world and he deserves all the credit, all the praise, all the glory. Because he did it all! And –as Frank Sinatra used to sing—he “did it, MY way……”

I have read the book of Daniel several times, and this is the first time I noticed that Nebuchadnezzar’s walking on the palace rooftop comes right after three other characters go for a walk in a very different setting.  And both times, in both strolls, the characters are singing someone’s praises.  In chapter 3 we have the famous story of the fiery furnace and Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. In that story three young men (Israelites) are thrown into a fiery furnace because they refuse to honor Nebuchadnezzar’s decree and worship his golden statue (another sign of his splendor). He has them thrown into the furnace to be burned alive, only to see them walking unharmed among the flames, “praising God and blessing the Lord” (3:24)[1].   And when the king calls them out of the flames, he discovers they are unharmed, not even the smell of smoke on their clothes or in their hair.  Even in their suffering they gave thanks to God and were delivered unharmed for the glory of God.  That is one way of walking through life. To give thanks to God for whatever we have, good or bad, to receive it and be grateful –if not for the flame itself, for the fact that God’s presence is there every day walking our path with us. Our amigo.

Another way is Nebuchadnezzar’s approach, to give thanks for his own glory, his own ingenuity, his own success, to give thanks to himself for all the great things he has achieved! Thinking only of himself, and his abilities, his awesomeness.  And what happens to Nebuchadnezzar after he goes for his walk alone (his solo stroll)?  He ends up going mad. He goes into a kind of frenzy and starts living out in the fields like a beast, eating grass like an oxen, sleeping on the cold damp ground, wet with dew, his fingernails become like talons and his hair like a bird’s feathers (4:30).  Placing ourselves at the center of our universe, building up our own egos with golden statues and mighty palaces, kingdoms of our own glory, leads to madness. Turns us into animals, or something worse: a self-destructive beast.  But, when we are willing to see that we are not in charge, that the world, the fates, God in all His glory, is actually in charge—then we can find peace even when we walk through flames. Even when the world seeks to destroy us, we can find peace and even a kind of joy that comes from knowing, we aren’t in charge. The world does not depend on us.  We are here because God wants us here, we are seeds He has planted and we are called to grow and bloom right there --wherever we are planted.  

I tend to like to walk alone. To get out by myself and wander.  But walking alone can become a habit, or even what we used to call a near occasion of sin. I could be tempted to become like King Nebuchadnezzar, walking alone and thinking only of myself and my importance, my independence and solitude, my worries and my concerns.  I can become overly isolated and "independent" in the worst of all possible ways.

To find joy and delight even in the hardships, even in the fiery furnace, even in this time of social distancing and quarantines, we must walk with others. We must share our gifts, share our joys, the peace, the delight that God plants within us. We must share it with anyone (and everyone) we meet. Because whether we are walking on the rooftop of a palace or amid the flames of a fiery furnace, we are never truly alone. There is another who walks with us. A friend.  A savior.  Someone we might even call--mi amigo.  We are communal creatures, made to be in relationship with others. Literally made for others.  Don't hide from it, and please don't hide your lamp under a basket. We need every light shining, especially now. Go out into the world and be light, be a friend, be an amigo.

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[1] This part of the story comes from the Greek text of the OT and is usually included in the Apocrypha in most Protestant Bibles.  But it is considered canonical by all the Orthodox churches and the Roman Catholic church and is therefore included in the Book of Daniel in these versions. If it isn’t in your Bible, here is a link to it.