The Eagle and the Passover Lamb, a story

My name is Moses. I’m a crowned eagle. I am the 1748th Moses in this line of crowned eagles. Our ancient ancestor, Daniel, saw a man named Moses, an Israelite, obey the Lord and lead the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt about 2000 years ago. And to remember that remarkable story, all of us first born boys are named Moses.

But something greater than Moses, or rather someone greater than Moses, is here.

I was there three years ago, flying over the Jordan River when the sky opened up and God declared that the man named Jesus, the one from Nazareth, was His beloved Son.

I heard John the Baptist say this was the Lamb of God.

I saw Jesus spend forty days in the wilderness.

I saw the day He fed over 5000 people with 5 loaves of bread and two fishes. I had been hunting in that lonely place when all those people showed up to find Him. I saw how many thousands of them He healed.

And now this.

It’s been almost a year since I last saw Jesus, but there’s no mistake, there He is, riding into Jerusalem.

This is the time of year called Passover, when the Israelites celebrate how God freed them from slavery in Egypt. They kill a perfect lamb and eat it with unleavened bread.

Jesus shows up in Jerusalem riding on a donkey. On a colt, the foal of a donkey. Everyone is shouting praises to Him. I call out my own praises, but I don’t know if anyone hears an eagle over the noise of these crowds.

Then Jesus comes to the temple and clears away all the people who are disturbing the prayer times with their money changing booths. Jesus makes the temple a place of reverence again.

Every day, as it comes closer to the great feast, Jesus goes to the temple and talks to the people.

Then the day comes when, instead of going to the temple, Jesus is dragged before the local ruler, a very mean man named Pontus Pilate.

What is happening now? He has been beaten to where I can’t even recognize Him. And they want Him to carry a cross up that big hill?

People are saying mean things to Him. Some people spit on Him.

Can’t they see this is the Lord of glory?

Can’t they see He is the Lamb of God?

Along with all the other birds of the sky, I raise my lament. Who can believe this report? And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?

The sky darkens in the middle of the day.

It’s so dark.

Jesus cries out with a loud voice, “Father, into Your hands I commit My Spirit!”

We cry, all of us birds; some women, those who were with Jesus every time we saw Him, also cry. We weep and lament. What is the Lord doing?

The darkness fades, but now the sun is going down. They take Him down from the Cross. I still don’t understand.

For two days I have no desire to hunt. I cannot raise my usual song in the heights as I soar.

I do not have the heart to fly far from where they buried Him in that garden tomb. I stand there and keep watch in the trees, not far from the Roman soldiers.

It’s dawn of the third day since He died. In the distance, I see the women who followed Jesus. They are carrying large bundles. Their eyes look heavy from lots of crying.

The ground shakes. I take to the air so I’m not affected by this sudden earthquake. What’s happening?

The stone rolls away! There’s a bright light and some angels appear. The Roman soldiers fall over in terror. I’ve never seen men so afraid.

The women approach the tomb and are also afraid of the angels.

“Don’t be afraid,” one angel says to the women. “You seek Jesus of Nazareth. He is not here. He has risen from the dead! He is alive!”

Risen from the dead?! Alive?! What wonder is this! God has done something marvelous! The Lamb, the Lamb of God has died and He is alive again. Hallelujah!!

I see Him now, talking to one of the women. The sight of Him alive again fills my eagle heart with joy.

Before, when the lamb was killed at Passover, it was to free the Israelite slaves. Now, when the Lamb of God has been killed, what does it mean? Who is free?

I must go learn this. What a marvelous mystery!