It is a warm spring day in Beirut when I step out from the Barber shop. The winter rains are over and the streets are crammed with people, busy with last-minute shopping.
Normally, I return to our apartment by the shortcut through a dank alley littered by broken glass. It only takes two minutes. But I am curious about the crowds. So I drift down the street to take it all in.
On a busy street, a lamb follows his master.
Just as I turn a corner, I notice a man across the street. He walks purposefully toward the meat markets. Close behind him strides a large ram, keeping pace like a dog following his master.
I’ll never forget that scene.
Not only because this ram has no leash while following his master on a crowded sidewalk with noises all around.
But because he is going to slaughter.
Muslims know the story of a father about to sacrifice his son.
This unusual scene- a man walking his ram in a crowded sidewalk- suddenly reminds me that this is Eid. Specifically, Eid al’ Adha, The Feast of the Sacrifice. This is the time of year that marks the second feast of the Islamic calendar.
[It takes place at the end of Hajj, the pilgrimage to Mecca. But we’ll leave that for another time.]
Muslims call it The Feast of the Sacrifice because they remember how Abraham was willing to sacrifice his son in obedience to God’s command. But just as he lifted his knife to sacrifice his son, God sent a ram for Abraham to sacrifice instead.
Muslims around the world celebrate that day with a big feast from the sacrificed lamb (or goat, or even camel. It doesn’t matter, as long as it is a perfect specimen). They invite all their friends and share their food. This goes on for several days.
It's a biblical story, but not the same person.
If the story sounds familiar to you, it is because the episode is recalled in Genessis 22. The main difference between the Muslim version and the Biblical version is that the Bible names Isaac as the son that Abraham was going to sacrifice. But Muslims say it is Ishmael, the son of Hagar, Abraham’s concubine.
[As followers of Jesus, we understand that we are spiritual descendants of Isaac as the child of God’s promise to Abraham that he would be the father of many peoples. On the other hand, Muslims believe that this promise would be fulfilled through Ishmael.]
But that isn’t what burns into my memory that spring day in the crowded walkway of Beirut.
On this day, the ram reminds me of something else.
It is the way that the ram follows its master. Keeping pace. Eyes focused. Intent.
And in that moment, I think of Jesus the Lamb of God. The Bible tells us that he scorned the shame of the Cross and sacrificed himself so that we would be reconciled to the Father (see Heb. 12:1-4).
The lamb I see on the street that day is going to slaughter. He has no idea what is about to take place; he is just obediently following his master. But Jesus did know he was going to slaughter. He did it willingly on our behalf.
This is why every sent one accepts an invitation to the feast.
Every sent one I know accepts the invitation from their neighbors to attend an Eid feast. It is a big deal to be invited and a big deal to participate as part of the community.
And because sent ones have a reputation for being spiritual, they are often invited to say a blessing to everyone. When they do, they will always mention how Jesus is the Lamb of God who gave a one-time sacrifice for the sins of the world. They say that Jesus was willing to die for us, because his sacrifice paid for our sins and gave us entrance into his kingdom.
So whenever I walk during a warm spring day, I often remember that man and his ram. And I think of what Jesus did on the Cross. I thank God for his great love, and I pray for his sent ones around the world to share boldly in timely moments.
What about you? What timely moment can you use to share the good news?