King of Kings

The year I became a Seventh-day Adventist, I met Cyrus; I learned of his conquest of Babylon, an important key to understanding both Daniel 5 and Revelation 16. But then, mere weeks after my baptism, the name of David Koresh led the news cycle almost every night. “Koresh”was a Persian cognate for the Hellenized “Cyrus.”

Why did this notorious cult leader name himself both David and Koresh? It was because both men served as messianic types in the Old Testament; David by virtue of his throne, and Koresh by virtue of liberating God’s people to return to Jerusalem—and God’s use of meshiach (“anointed”) to describe him in Isaiah 45:1. Vernon Howell (David Koresh’s real name) was attempting to convince us that he was a messianic figure.

Both types come with surprises. For David, it’s his notorious episode with Bathsheba, a potent reminder that not everythingDavid did pointed to Jesus. The Cyrus surprise has more to do with the fact that he was an idolater: He worshipped other gods, even well after his appearance in the biblical narrative. Yet the Bible has nothing but good to say of him:

“Thus says the Lord to His anointed, to Cyrus, whose right hand I have held—to subdue nations before him and loose the armor of kings, to open before him the double doors, so that the gates will not be shut: ‘I will go before you and make the crooked places straight; I will break in pieces the gates of bronze and cut the bars of iron. I will give you the treasures of darkness and hidden riches of secret places, that you may know that I, the Lord, who call you by your name, am the God of Israel’ ” (Isa. 45:1-3).

This, of course, is precisely what happened. In the original order of Old Testament books, which ends with 2 Chronicles,[1] Cyrus is the last person mentioned, and the story ends with him crediting the God of Israel for his impulse to release the Jews to rebuild the Holy City:

“Thus says Cyrus king of Persia: All the kingdoms of the earth the Lord God of heaven has given me. And He has commanded me to build Him a house at Jerusalem which is in Judah. Who is among you of all His people? May the Lord his God be with him, and let him go up!” (2 Chron. 36:23).

The story of Cyrus yields a number of intriguing comparisons to Christ.

Cyrus was an agent through whom God completed the prophecy of a 70-year Babylonian captivity (Jer. 29). For that reason alone he is remembered fondly by the Jews. He was their liberator, and for Christians he serves to point forward to the day when our heavenly Cyrus—Jesus—will return with the armies of heaven (Rev. 19:11-21) to liberate us from spiritual Babylonian captivity. 

The parallels appear to run deeper, however. The story of Cyrus yields a number of intriguing comparisons to Christ that make it seem as if he were chosen not only because he happened to be there when Babylon fell; some of the story almost makes it seem as if heaven had been grooming him for the role for a long time.

The Nativity of Cyrus

Like that of Jesus, the birth of Cyrus was marked by turbulent circumstances. Where Jesus had a jealous Hasmonean king attempt to assassinate him as an infant, the infant Cyrus faced a similar situation, but at the prompting of his own grandfather. According to Herodotus, the Median king Astyages had a disturbing dream about the end of his reign—much as Nebuchadnezzar was plagued in the night with the revelation that his empire would be handed to someone else:

“He had a daughter called Mandane, and one night, in his sleep, he imagined that he saw her urinating, making such a flood that it filled his entire city, and drowned the whole of Asia. When Astyages confided the details of this nightmare to those among the Magi who were proficient in the art of reading dreams, the interpretation that they gave him, a full and precise one, chilled his blood. As a result, when Mandane came to be of a nubile age, he did not give her as a wife to any Mede of appropriate status, but instead, haunted still by the dream, married her off to a Persian named Cambyses—a man whom he knew to be of good family and undemonstrative disposition, but who, in Astyages’ opinion, was so lacking in any social standing as to be the inferior by far of a Mede of even mediocre rank.”[2]

Problem solved. With Mandane far away and married to a political nobody, there was no chance that her child could dispossess him of his empire. But alas, he had a second dream, this time of a vine that grew from his daughter’s womb and spread across the land, to the point where all of his subjects could sit in its shade.[3] His advisors informed him it meant that Mandane would have a son who would rule in his place.

When the baby—Cyrus—was born, he instructed his steward Harpagus to seize the infant and murder him. Harpagus, however, couldn’t bring himself to do it. He reasoned that if Mandane came to power after Astyages died, she would avenge her baby’s death on him, so instead of obeying the macabre order, he handed the infant to a cowherd named Mithridates and told him to expose the child on a mountainside. But the herdsman’s wife, appalled by the planned infanticide, refused to cooperate. She had just had a stillborn baby, which was swapped for the living Cyrus and provided to the king as evidence that Mandane’s son was dead. Cyrus then became her adopted child.

By the time Cyrus was 10, it was obvious that he was different from other boys. His charisma led his friends to appoint him their make-believe king. Cyrus took to the role enthusiastically, organizing his “kingdom” by dividing responsibilities among his friends. One boy refused to obey his orders, however, so Cyrus had him flogged by the other boys—which naturally infuriated the boy’s family. The victim’s father, an important man with palace access, showed Astyages what had happened:

“You see, my Lord,” he asked, stripping bare the boy’s shoulders, “how insolently we have been treated? And by one of your slaves! By the son of a cowherd!”[4]

There are interesting comparisons to be made with Jesus’ life and ministry.

Cyrus was brought to the palace, where Astyages questioned him. As the 10-year-old calmly defended his actions, the king recognized there was something different about him: He didn’t behave like a herdsman’s son, but like someone born to royalty. Astyages suddenly realized that his grandson had not been murdered, but hidden among the peasants. His heart softened by meeting the boy, he welcomed young Cyrus into the palace.

Harpagus was reportedly punished for his disobedience in a horrific fashion: Harpagus was unwittingly served his own son for dinner.

Beyond the Advent Parallels

The story of Cyrus, widely known as “King of kings,”[5] foreshadows both Christ’s first and second advent. Most of us are familiar with the second parallel; after all, Cyrus’ instruction to rebuild the Temple is specifically mentioned in the inspired record.

But there are interesting comparisons to be made with Jesus’ life and ministry as well. These are discovered by reading extrabiblical history, a practice that often helps us place the biblical narrative in an appropriate historical context. The Bible’s original audiences would have been well familiar with the career of Cyrus, given his outsized impact on history and the Jewish nation.

Unlike many ancient rulers, most of Cyrus’ subjects actually liked him.[6] Most of his vassal states didn’t merely obey him out of abject fear, as they might have with others. He was not as harsh as the Assyrians, for example, who often flayed and/or impaled subjugated people. When Cyrus conquered the Medes, combining their empire with his, he even mercifully allowed his grandfather Astyages to disappear into a comfortable retirement.

Even before he came to power, Cyrus was understood to be a mediator. When someone wanted to bring a matter to the king’s attention, instead of risking the king’s wrath they would often deliver the message through Cyrus because he was perceived to be friendly. As a king, his subjects found him accommodating, fair, and inclusive, because he was interested in establishing lasting peace and prosperity—possibly because his mother had carefully taught him to prize kingship over tyranny, and to prize equality of rights.[7] The Cyrus Cylinder, which provides us with a record of his Babylonian conquest, is often thought of as an early declaration of human rights because it emphasized values such as tolerance and liberty.[8]

Under Cyrus the law was used differently than it had been in other empires. Most nations had reactive laws that responded to specific problems; the Persians, however, tended to write proactive laws designed to establish and preserve a commonwealth that would benefit everybody, Persian nor not—much like God’s moral law. Where free thought was considered dangerous by others, the Persians prized it; the ancient historian Xenophon describes a “free square” near the palace (a place not unlike the agora in ancient Athens) at which people could freely discuss all ideas, with one important caveat: the area was closed to merchants, who might bend the pursuit of truth toward their own profit.[9] (Somewhat reminiscent of Jesus overturning the merchants’ tables at the Temple!)

Persian education was designed to promote these modern-sounding ideals. Ingratitude was considered a mark of poor character; it was believed that ungrateful people quickly forget their duty to parents, the gods, and empire. Temperance and modesty were considered high virtues; in opposition to the Medes, who seemed to love display and luxury, the Persians preferred simple, modest dress and a plain diet. Cyrus was known to often dress like a common Persian, with a minimum of display; it was an effort to identify with his people—similar to Jesus, who chose the stable over the palace and the life of working people over the halls of power.

Seventh-day Adventists can appreciate that the Persians prized temperance. Xenophon, writing about the Persian conquest of the world, suggested that “this would not be possible for them, if they did not lead an abstemious life.”[10]

The list of positive, Christlike character traits is nearly endless. Many— if not most—of the Bible’s original audience would have known these things, and instinctively understood why Cyrus was considered messianic. But even in more recent history, Cyrus’ importance was clearly understood; many of the American founders had read Xenophon’s Cyropaedia and were inspired to borrow from him as they built their new republic. Thomas Jefferson, for example, owned at least two copies of Cyropaedia,[11] likely because of Cyrus’ secular style of government and his careful separation of church and state. Darius Lahoutifard notes:

“Jefferson’s engagement with the Cyropaedia is evident in his drafting of the Virginia Statute for Religious Freedom, which later influenced the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution. . . . His regard for the text underscores its significant impact on his thinking and the foundational principles of the United States.”[12]

The list of positive, Christlike character traits is nearly endless.

While the Protestant Reformation (particularly the English Dissenters) was a significant source of inspiration for the drafting of the American Constitution—as noted by Ellen White[13]—it is still fascinating that the pagan king whom God chose to be a type of Christ also appeared to have played a role. This lamblike Persian king had an unwitting hand in establishing a lamblike republic in our own day. Of course this original state of affairs in America has eroded over time to the point where the United States will become just as much of a problem for the world as the first beast—something that may already be underway. But that latter-day apostasy is a radical departure from America’s original design: a place where the persecuted woman was able to find liberty of conscience and religious practice—much in line with Cyrus’ Persia.

The Lessons

There are several important lessons we can learn from Cyrus:

1. God will use whomever He pleases to finish the work. When His own people had violated the covenant and landed in Babylonian captivity as a result, God kept the plan of salvation moving forward in spite of them. Cyrus was anything but perfect, but his heart was pointed in the right direction. And if God can use Cyrus, He can use you—especially if you’re in the habit of praying for and cultivating Christlike traits.

2. If you and I are not faithful in our mission, it will not stop God; He will find someone else for the job. Cyrus did nothing that couldn’t have happened in Israel. The opening chapters of the book of Romans remind us that while the Gentiles did not share the spiritual knowledge Israel possessed, many of them have been more closely aligned with God’s purposes. It is a historical tragedy that an idolatrous pagan ended up doing what God would have had His own people do.

3. A positive influence can continue to move the needle for God’s kingdom well past your own career or lifespan. Cyrus’ love for Christlike virtues placed him in front of those who were trying to build a free republic in the new world more than 2,000 years after his death. And more important, Cyrus continues to live on in the pages of the Bible as a positive role model, a symbol of our ultimate hope.

4. Cyrus has been remembered for millennia, his name respectfully inscribed in both the historical and biblical record. He need not be the only one who points humanity to Christ; God also intends to write your name in His books—for all eternity.

There is more—much, much more. But go back to the Bible’s mentions of Cyrus, armed with perhaps a bit more knowledge than you had a moment ago, and see what you find.

SIDEBAR:

After Cyrus, the Persians maintained dominance of the region through several subsequent kings, leading to the eventual restoration of the Temple in Jerusalem after the decree of Artaxerxes in 457 B.C.—the start date for both the 70-week prophecy of Daniel 9 and the 2,300-day prophecy of Daniel 8. While the precise identities of the four successors to Cyrus mentioned in Daniel 11:2 differ from scholar to scholar, it’s likely that they correspond to these kings, ending with the man who would mark the fulfillment of prophecy.

1. Cambyses II (530-522 B.C.) conquered Egypt.

2. Bardiya (522 B.C.), Cambyses’ brother, who is not universally recognized as a legitimate Persian king. He is not always counted as one of the four kings of Daniel 11, which makes Artaxerxes the fourth.

3. Darius I (522-486 B.C.) consolidated the empire.

4. Xerxes I (486-465 B.C.), the king in the book of Esther, famously fought the Greeks.

5. Artaxerxes (465-424 B.C.), issued the decree to rebuild the Temple (Ezra 7:13) that answers to the decree mentioned in Daniel 9:25.

[1] We have not removed any contentfrom the Old Testament, but we have changed the book order to conclude with Malachi.

[2] Herodotus: The Histories, trans. Tom Holland (New York: Penguin Group, 2013), p. 54. Some have suggested the account is apocryphal.

[3] Note the similarity to the description of Nebuchadnezzar’s tree in Daniel 4.

[4] Herodotus, p. 59.

[5] A title commonly applied to Persian kings, https://www.iranicaonline.org/articles/achaemenid-dynasty/?utm_source=chatgpt.com.

[6] You will find the following stories and examples in the opening chapters of Xenophon’s Cyropaedia, one of the best ancient Cyrus biographies we possess.

[7] Xenophon, Cyropaedia I. iii. 18.

[8] https://www.un.org/ungifts/replica-edict-cyrus

[9] Xenophon, Cyropaedia I. ii. 3.

[10] Xenophon, Cyropaedia, trans. Walter Miller(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1914), p. 26.

[11] See the Act of Congress that authorized the purchase of his library: An Act for the Purchase of a Library for the Use of Congress, Jan. 30, 1815.

[12] Darius Lahoutifard, Leadership by Cyrus the Great: Unlocking Xenophon’s Cyropaedia, np., Kindle Edition.

[13] See, for example, Ellen G. White, Testimonies for the Church, vol. 5 (Mountain View, Calif.: Pacific Press Pub. Assn., 1948), p. 451.