UI – Part 309 – The Sword of Muhammad

The sun heated the air to temperatures that made men seek shade. Covered in long tunics to protect the flesh, they gathered. Some stood as others were seated cross-legged. The skins of camels, the hair still attached, made-up tents erected to stand between the piercing rays and a specter of comfort. Rugs adorned the land for makeshift floors providing an element of luxury and home. Colorful silk plush pillows were indented by the resting Arabs.

In an area nearby poles held additional large blankets of fabric shading many glistening chestnut stallions as their heads bobbed while consuming from a water trough.  They only recently benefitted from a break in travel in the harsh desert.

Looking over the horizon optical waves distorted the distant landscape as zephyrs pushed and pulled the heated air over the surface.  Two men stood near the corral only to see the jostling of white longitudinal streaks constantly changing shapes as they came nearer. Up and down; soon a dark foundation joined the moving pieces. It was a posse of many. It became clear that companions of those already encamped were arriving. The central figure was in black on a black steed, in contrast to a rainbow of others on each side. The heads of the bouncing figures were wrapped with scarves trailing behind as the wake of a speeding water craft.  Those waiting moved closer to the entrance to the corral.

The black banner of Muhammad was raised and carried on either side of one in the middle. It was the Prophet making a grand entrance. Within 100 yards the Prophet, with one hand on the reins, his other grasping from a scabbard, raised his sword. Light exploded from the surface as a statement blinding for an instant those whose gaze was upon the leader.  Their eyes dilated, they had to blink, and then restore their gaze. High in the air from the handle ribbons of black streamed and the defiant military commander made his arrival known. Remnants of a recent victory still dripped from the masterfully crafted hilt.

The Prophet dismounted. Men assigned came forward to assist the arrivals. Muhammad’s black champion was treated with extreme care, even provided a separate stable of his own. Where there were bruises or wounds the animals received particular attention.

The stable hands went in the opposite direction with the animals as the group of Bedouins moved in unison, their thobes secured by a cord over which a striped aba flowed touching the ground with each purposeful stride. Keeping up with their prophet in black was necessary.  The erected tent, an opportunity to rest, was their objective. Inside others stood to greet the newcomers. A pit in the middle held a fire over which a pot was boiling, the aroma of coffee filling the air.

“Rasulullah”, was spoken by the welcoming committee. The commander nodded as they bowed. His gesture enabled them to return to what they were doing as he arrived.

This charismatic leader created an army, a following of men rewarded for their willingness to engage with him in his objective of revenge towards his hometown clan by raiding caravans, and converting others to the Prophet’s system of belief and justice.  A new desert tribe was created and growing. Once a member, leaving was not an option.  The Prophet’s sword would scream out ‘apostate’ as those who would leave him would leave this world as well.

Muhammad was the first prophet to use a sword as a tool to enact justice for his god.

Soon after this band of marauders a second contingent followed trumpeted by anguished cries. Slowed by the burden of women and children taken in their recent conflict, as well as beasts of burden laden with the spoils of their victory, more of the Prophet’s believers arrived. Separate quarters were established for the enslaved. The best were set aside for the Prophet while the remainders were to serve the needs of those in his employ.

The sword of the Prophet was the baton leading the orchestra for Allah, their music more cacophony than harmony, their successes credited to Allah, their failures to themselves.

In the tent the men kneeled with their faces to the floor to thank the Prophet for his direction and Allah for their benefits. The words spoken by the Prophet and his example gave them courage and authority to continue their ways, more wanton than faithful.

The Prophet introduced himself into the bible, which he knew, telling his captive audience, “The Book of the People foretold of my arrival, Moses at the head, and Allah spoke to me through his messenger Gabriel. I only speak the words of the Lord. I am the last. Listen and obey and your rewards in paradise will far exceed what we gain here and now. None has arisen as me before.”

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Note: This is the first in a 4 Part series called – Prophets and Swords. The others will follow over the next several weeks.

Question: Is Muhammad a false prophet or the last prophet? Was Christ the last prophet? Read Deuteronomy[i] 18:9-(15)-22. “The Lord will raise up for you a prophet like me from among you, from your fellow Israelites. You must listen to him.” (Deut 18:15 NIV)

Grace and Peace.

[i] Deuteronomy is Moses’ farewell address to his people, the people of Israel.