What if the gods of the ancient world were actually demonic princes of nations?
In my new novel, Daniel: Exile in Babylon, I’m retelling Daniel as part of a larger, consistent biblical storyline I call the War of the Seed—a conflict that runs from Genesis to Revelation. Daniel isn’t just inspirational kids’ stories; it’s a window into the unseen conflict behind empires. The Bible hints that the nations were ‘allotted’ to spiritual powers after Babel, and Daniel 10 pulls the curtain back: the Prince of Persia, the Prince of Greece—real principalities entangled with real kingdoms. If there’s a battle on earth, there’s a battle in heaven, and Daniel is standing in the middle of it.
My premise is provocative: what if the ‘gods’ of the ancient world—Marduk, Ishtar, Nabu, Baal, Zeus—weren’t just myths, but myths rooted in a real spiritual reality? Deuteronomy 32 says the nations worshiped gods that were not God—shedim, territorial powers, demonic realities behind idols. That doesn’t mean there’s a neat one-to-one match for every legend, but it does mean these entities deceive, masquerade, and fight like a spiritual mafia—united against God, yet competing with each other. So in my novel, you’re not only watching Daniel’s life; you’re seeing what might be happening in the unseen realm as Babylon rises and falls.
Part one of the trilogy focuses on the piece everyone skips: Daniel 1—the three years in the School of the Magi. Daniel is a Torah-observant Jew, uncompromising, and yet he’s trained to be ‘ten times better’ than the sorcerers and wise men. How do you learn the forbidden arts—divination, astrology, exorcism—without participating in them? That question is the foundation for everything that follows. It’s like Harry Potter meets God: a young Daniel in ‘magic school,’ surrounded by pressure to compromise, while God is shaping him for something far bigger than he can imagine.
I’m also telling the exile the way most of us actually live it—not as kings and heroes, but as little people. Daniel gets ripped out of Jerusalem, loses his future, becomes a slave, and has to wrestle with the question: Does God only care about kings and kingdoms, or does He see the lowly and the meek? I even weave in a love story to let readers feel the cost of exile and to move between Babylon and Jerusalem—where Jeremiah is still preaching and history is unraveling. And I back it with real research: the Babylonian world, the wise-men institutions, even why I’m convinced Daniel likely wasn’t a eunuch. This is entertainment, yes—but it’s also meant to make the Bible come alive.
