Understanding Eid: Jesus, Our Spotless Lamb

This article was updated from this blog and published in French at TPSG.

It is my first Eid in Senegal. I sit on the front steps of our home taking it all in. I can hear the bleating of sheep throughout the neighbourhood. Our friend Ibrahima across the street has hired a professional to come to his home and slaughter his sheep for him. (And since he is affluent and has a big family, that means two sheep). They are both tied with a short rope to a light post on our side street and are pacing nervously around said post. 

Soon, the "assassin" comes out with his big knife, sharpens it against the pavement, and slits the throat of one of the sheep, right in front of the other. He then unties it and takes it to the backyard in order to finish butchering it, in preparation for the upcoming meal. 

 

I am left alone with one sheep circling frantically around the light post he is tied to. This guy knows he is about to meet the same fate as his late companion and is attempting everything in his power to release himself from his captivity. I have to resist the urge to liberate him, knowing that doing so will win me a bad reputation in my new neighbourhood. Soon, my moment of temptation passes, as the lone sheep meets his end much like the first and is taken out back to become lunch. (Dan is spared from the spectacle, as Ibrahima invited him to go to the mosque with him and gave him the freedom to take pictures, like the one below).

 

Before moving to Senegal, I had very little first-hand knowledge of this festival that marks the high point of the Muslim calendar. It commemorates Abraham's willingness to sacrifice his son to the Lord (which our Muslim friends believe was Ishmael, not Isaac), as well as the Lord's provision of a substitute ram. On this day, every household that can afford to buys new outfits for the whole family, slaughters at least one sheep, and has a big party. For city dwellers, this usually requires a trip to their village of origin for the celebration, and for all, it requires sharing some of the bounty with non-Muslim neighbours and those who are less fortunate. 

 

As is the case with Christmas in North America, Eid brings out the best and worst in people. Theft is at a high during the days leading up to the feast, as people are scrambling to come up with the money for this expensive celebration (I even heard of a guy who had his wheelchair stolen right from under his limp body!). A spirit of generosity and hospitality also reigns, as many Muslim friends invite us to their homes for the party, and others send us both raw sheep meat and platters loaded with deliciously prepared food (as you can imagine, I prefer the latter!).

 

Reminiscing about this time of year makes me miss my friends in Senegal, and also makes me wish I could be there to enjoy the party with them. It also reminds me of their need for the Saviour, the spotless Lamb of God who was the only perfect sacrifice for our sins. With that in mind, as you read this, please take a moment to pray for your Muslim friends. May the Lord grant you boldness and open doors to build bridges and communicate the hope we have in Christ.