Marty, here is just a cut / paste narrative found in the chapter 7 commentary on Daniel. The little horn cannot come until the cross that occurs during the reign of pagan Rome - the 4th kindom.
Reflective Narrative:
Hidden in the Feet, Revealed in the Horns: God’s Law and God’s People and the coming little horn
In the grand statue of Daniel 2, four earthly kingdoms rise in succession—each revealed by God as a separate layer of different metals. But it is the fourth kingdom, made of iron, that demands our closest attention. This kingdom, which we know as pagan Rome, was powerful and unrelenting. And yet, God showed that something radical would take place within it.
At the feet of this statue—where iron is strangely mixed with clay—something extraordinary happens. A Stone, not cut by human hands, strikes the image at its feet (Daniel 2:34). This Stone is Christ, and His crucifixion marks the turning point of history. From that moment, the iron-and-clay mixture in the feet is broken apart. It is a spiritual event, not a political one—the clay that had been bound inside the empire of Rome is now separated.
But who is the clay? The answer lies in the way God is revealing His plan of restoration—not merely recounting the rise and fall of kingdoms, but telling a deeper story centered on His covenant people, their return to Jerusalem, and the arrival of the Messiah. At the heart of that story is “pottery clay”—a symbol of the faithful Jews who accepted Jesus after the cross and were softened and reshaped by His Spirit. Before the cross, they were held within the iron of the fourth kingdom—hidden and oppressed. After the cross, the separation of iron and clay symbolizes not only judgment, but freedom. The pottery clay is released—and with them, the Gospel begins to move outward.
Alongside the clay were the ten toes—present in the feet, but not emphasized in the dream itself. Before the cross, these toes were bound within the same iron structure that held the clay. But after the Stone strikes the feet, what had been
hidden begins to appear
outwardly in history. In Daniel 7, those toes reappear as ten horns growing out of the fourth beast. Horns represent authority, and this shift from toes to horns signals that what was once contained inside the fourth kingdom is now visible, active, and central to the unfolding prophetic story.
This tells us something profound: the ten toes and ten horns are not random anatomy or animal features. They represent the Ten Commandments of God—once bound up with a captive people, now brought into prophetic view as the standard of God’s kingdom confronting the nations touched by Rome. The Stone’s strike does more than fracture a statue; it breaks an invisible bondage. The Messiah enters the fourth kingdom at its weakest point—not to topple Rome with legions of angels, but to sever what no earthly army could touch: the spiritual captivity of His people. Those who receive Him are no longer merely subjects of Rome or keepers of an external code. They become pottery clay in the truest sense: softened, yielded, reshaped by the hands of the living God.
From that fracture point, something begins to happen that Daniel 2 anticipates and Daniel 7 unfolds.
The same people who once carried God’s Law within the confines of a single nation now step out into a pagan world with a message that is both old and new—old, because the Ten Words reveal the character of God; new, because the cross reveals the heart of God, and the Law is no longer merely written on stone but pressed into living hearts. The pottery clay does not abandon the Ten Words as it leaves the feet of the statue; it carries them, now joined to the Gospel of a crucified and risen Christ.
This is why Daniel 7 shows both the people and the “horns” appearing from within the fourth beast. The pottery clay do not rise in their own strength, and the horns do not represent a new law. Rather, what was hidden inside the feet—clay joined to iron, commandments held within a captive people—is now visible on the outside. The Ten Commandments, once contained within Israel under Rome’s heel, emerge as ten horns: visible, active, confronting kings, governors, philosophers, and commoners alike with the unchanging standard of God’s kingdom.
In this way, the Stone’s first strike does not yet grind the statue to powder—that is the work of the final judgment—but it does begin a quiet revolution. The clay is freed from iron’s grip. The Law is freed from national confinement. The Gospel and the commandments go out together, carried by men and women who have seen the crucified Messiah and cannot remain silent. The transformation from toes to horns, from captive clay to commissioned witnesses, is the story of how God turns a crushed people into a conquering testimony—one that will continue to challenge empires until the Stone fills the whole earth.
But there is another figure that rises: a little horn. He appears after the ten horns and brings a different spirit—clever, subtle, and ambitious. He speaks pompous words. And as history moves forward and the fourth beast’s pagan phase is “slain” (Daniel 7:11), this little horn does not fade. Instead, he grows in influence—redefining truth, reordering worship, and eventually turning his words against the Most High.
Before the little horn reaches the climax of judgment, Daniel 7:12 drops a remarkable—and often overlooked—key. “As for the rest of the beasts…” reaches back to Babylon, Medo-Persia, and Greece. Their dominion had already been taken away, yet Daniel is told that “their lives were prolonged for a season and a time.” That is not a throwaway line; it is a prophetic distinction between rule and residue.
It’s one of those “
skipping sounds”—a subtle narrative shift that signals something more than it appears. Empires can lose political dominion and still remain alive through their ideas, methods, and spiritual DNA—carried forward into whatever follows. In other words, Daniel is telling us how history moves: kingdoms fall, but their legacies migrate. Babylon, Persia, and Greece do not continue as ruling powers, yet their influence endures—absorbed, repackaged, and transmitted into the next system. This is why the rise of the little horn is not merely a political shift inside the fourth beast; it is a transformation in which earlier currents continue flowing beneath the surface.
And what comes next is not immediately the end of the world, but the fourth kingdom’s internal change—pagan Rome giving way to a religious-political form. That transformation could not mature until after the Messiah’s first coming, when the Gospel was carried into the Gentile world and a new, predominantly Gentile church took root inside the fourth kingdom—soil in which the little horn would later grow.
At first, this Church was a living witness—clay set free, carrying the Ten Words and the Gospel into a pagan world. But as the number of believers grew, so did the need for leadership and organization. Over time, the Church’s structure began to mirror the empire in which it lived. Local elders and overseers gradually formed regional centers of authority. Bishops became the new “officials” of this spiritual realm, and among them, one city—and one office—would rise above the rest.
When pagan Rome finally fell, it did not simply vanish. A power vacuum opened, and the Gentile Christian church—already shaped by Roman patterns of governance—rose into it. Within a relatively short span, a religious-political system emerged that carried forward Roman structure, discipline, and strength. This new reality became known as Papal Rome.
At the head of this system stood the Bishop of Rome—long the most prominent figure in the Gentile Christian church. Over time, this bishop came to wield authority not only over the Church but over much of what had once been the Roman world. He would eventually be known as the Pope, and in prophetic language, as the little horn. His power did not come from military conquest. Rather, he inherited and repurposed the iron strength of pagan Rome, fulfilling the words of Daniel 2:41:
“Yet the strength of the iron shall be in it.”
He would extend authority across nations—not in the name of Caesar, but in the name of Christ, though without the Spirit of Christ.
All of this—the outward revealing of the horns, the fall of pagan Rome, the continuation of the first three beasts’ influence, the rise of Papal Rome from within a predominantly Gentile church, and the ascent of the little horn—occurs well before the end of time. These developments belong to the long historical arc that begins at the cross and moves forward through history. The little horn will have his season. But his season will end. And when it does,
the Son of Man will come with the clouds of heaven (Daniel 7:13), and the kingdom will be given not to the beast or the horn—but to the saints of the Most High. This is not just prophecy—it is promise.