My name is El Bin Kazir, of the Moors.
(A moor is a member of a Muslim people of northwest Africa, who ruled parts of Spain between the 8th and the 15th centuries.)
I was a scholar and scientist–a learned man who taught many.
My home was in Granada, in the south of Spain, and my villa was a center of learning for many students.
I gave lectures on the stars, the Earth sciences and mathematics. Books filled my many shelves and scrolls lined my hallways. I held man’s dignity and knowledge in high esteem–it was a gift, for a wise man to use with the tool of his mind.
But in that time a war came, a terrible war. The Catholic Spanish (who did not follow with this act the teachings of Jesus who commanded his followers to Love others) against us Moors that occupied their land. Many of us Moors fled. But not everyone had the means to flee. Men, women and children who were left behind were slaughtered without mercy. Destruction, pain and waste lay all around the questioning people who beheld the massacre.
Many of us fled to the mountains of North Africa, where we would not be pursued. It was hot, dry and barren there. The cliffs were baked white and the sun beat down relentlessly.
As our little family fled through the desert, we ran out of water. Our small children cried, and their mother tried to dry their tears; however, her own tears flowed too freely to offer much comfort. I led them to the shade of the cliffs, where they sat in the dust. I instructed them to wait while I went and searched for water.
I came across a small trail, and my hopes rose as I followed it. I prayed it would lead me to a fountain or a well. But alas, I found nothing. Turning from the path I entered a small valley. Again, only dirt and parched roots lay at my feet. I climbed another hill, but felt only despair, as my eyes beheld nothing but waves of heat rising from the parched earth, and the dry, distant horizon of nothing.
After many hours of desperate search, I had still found no water.
With a heavy heart I turned to make my way back to my family. Following the path I was certain I had taken earlier, I rounded a bend only to find to my utter dismay that the trail abruptly ended against sheer cliff walls. It was not the path I had come by previously. I was lost.
Desperate to find the way back to my loved ones, I climbed a hill and frantically scanned the area, but none of the terrain looked familiar. I ran along the steep cliff edge, in near panic. It was obvious that I was nowhere near where I had left my wife and children.
The sun was now starting to set. Long, dark shadows filled the mountains with emptiness, and my aching heart with dread.
“How could I have done such a thing?” I moaned. “To leave my wife and children alone in the desert with no water and now no father. Oh, Allah, have mercy!”
It was then that I saw a man walking calmly over the hill toward me, carrying a lantern in his hand.
I hesitated. These were perilous times. Was he friend or foe?
“El Bin Kazir, I have come to lead you to safety,” the man called, beckoning me towards him.
“Praise be to Allah!” I cried, relief flooding my heart. “It is a miracle!” I ran towards the circle of light that shone from his lantern.
I looked into the face of this benefactor and managed to utter, “Gracious sir, truly the hand of Allah has sent you to rescue me from my plight. But how is it that you know my name?” I did not recognize his face, nor did I know how he came to know of my dire circumstance.
The stranger smiled, and only said, “Your children thirst; we must hurry.”
He carried two very large goatskins of water, tied onto his back with a rope, yet he did not seem to be straining with the effort. A smaller skin hung at his side and he handed it to me. Questions filled my mind, but I brushed them aside when I saw the extended water skin. Clutching it in my dusty, shaking hands, I quenched my thirst heartily. The water revived my swollen tongue and aching limbs. Again the man smiled, seeming to take great pleasure in relieving my thirst.
“Come,” he said, and held his lantern high. The beam illuminated his face, and I could see lines etched about his eyes–the eyes of a man who had known both abundant happiness and sorrow in his lifetime. His features were kind, yet firm and resolute.
“We must go now,” he said.
This stranger walked swiftly, so that I panted as I struggled to keep up with his gait. Being a scholar and not accustomed to much physical exertion, I stumbled over the terrain. Then suddenly we started straight up a cliff. For a moment my heart sank; surely this was not the way I had come. I began to doubt whether this man knew where to guide me. I feared we were headed in the wrong direction.
Seeming to sense my confusion the stranger stopped his ascent and turned to me, poised in mid-climb, one hand grasping a rock to support his weight as he expertly balanced his lantern with his free hand. Again I saw the kindly smile as the beam of light fell upon his features. “Have faith, El Bin Kazir,” he said.
Ashamed, I set my mind to follow. Scrambling over rocks and thorns, I quickened my pace. Within half an hour, from the light of the now-risen moon I recognized the outcropping of rocks where I had left my loved ones. In the distance I could hear the weak cries of the little ones and my wife’s voice desperately trying to soothe their tears.
I turned to face the stranger, my savior from certain death in the desert. He handed me the skins of water for my thirsty family. I fell to my knees, overcome with emotion.
“Kindness such as yours I cannot repay, master! The blessing of Allah be upon you!”
“As it has been upon you this day, El Bin Kazir.” He smiled and held out his hands toward me, stretching them both palms upward.
I gazed at them and gasped. “Master, you are wounded!” I exclaimed. Deep wounds marred the palms of each gentle hand.
“Yes, I was wounded for your transgressions and bruised for your iniquities,” he said.
“Transgressions? Iniquities? Master, what do you mean?” I recoiled, thinking he blamed me for this hideous injury. I looked into his face, trembling, but his eyes were filled only with tenderness and compassion. My fear melted with his gaze.
“I am Jesus, El Bin Kazir. Go in peace!”
And with that, before my very eyes, the Savior of the desert vanished without a trace.
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Many words and many long tales could be told of the events that unfolded after that day the Stranger of the desert saved the life of this humble servant and his family in the barren mountains of North Africa. But let it be known that I, El Bin Kazir the scholar, learned that which I knew not. I became a humble seeker. I read of the life of that magnificent Stranger, and searched many books until I found the words:
“He was wounded for our transgressions; He was bruised for our iniquities. The chastisement of our peace was upon Him, and with His stripes we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5).
He healed my parched and thirsty tongue that day in the desert. But He also gave me the water of life freely. (See John 4:1-45 The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”) The Stranger of the desert saved not only my life, but my soul. I, El Bin Kazir, and all my house believed on His name and were saved. For God is merciful and compassionate and would not that even one should perish.
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Here is the chapter from which Jesus quoted to El Bin Kazir, from the prophet Isaiah chapter 53:
1 Who has believed what he has heard from us? And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?
2 For he grew up before him like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him.
3 He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief (sickness); and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
4 Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted.
5 But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed.
6 All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned—every one—to his own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.
7 He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth.
8 By oppression and judgment he was taken away; and as for his generation, who considered that he was cut off out of the land of the living, stricken for the transgression of my people?
9 And they made his grave with the wicked and with a rich man in his death, although he had done no violence, and there was no deceit in his mouth.
10 Yet it was the will of the Lord to crush him; he has put him to grief; when his soul makes an offering for guilt, he shall see his offspring; he shall prolong his days; the will of the Lord shall prosper in his hand.
11 Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied; by his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant, make many to be accounted righteous, and he shall bear their iniquities.
12 Therefore I will divide him a portion with the many, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong (the many) because he poured out his soul to death and was numbered with the transgressors; yet he bore the sin of many, and makes intercession for the transgressors.
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Isaiah 53 is also considered by the Jews to be a Prophecy about the promised Messiah, but if you look at Jesus’ life, you know that it is fulfilled in Him, Jesus!
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This man El Bin Kazir from the story above was lost on that mountain and was found and helped by Jesus. In the scripture sent before (Surah An-Nisa 4:136), the Injil of John 10:1-18 Jesus compares himself with a shepherd and us, His sheep. He says: “…I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. … And I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd. …”
Mohammed climbed a mountain too because he was lost in this world with idolatry, evil religious practices, greed and unrighteousness … and a false Christianity that exalted Mary the earthly mother of Jesus to the Mother of God. He climbed that mountain to meditate and think and pray in this cave because he did not have peace in his heart.
Then one day an angel appears to him and told him to read. This word “read”, as I was told, also means “to take in”, to take the words into your heart and being, to receive it. What was there at that time that he could have read or he could have asked to read to him? There was the Thora and the Bible of the Christians. If he would have followed the words of the angel and if he would have not looked at what people were doing or how they followed the scriptures,but if he would just have listened to the words and let them speak to his heart, God could have spoken to him through these words and shown him, what kind of a church and followers God would have wanted. But I could not find anywhere that said that Mohammed did this. That he read or listened to the scriptures that God had already given. If he would have done it, wouldn’t he have found out that he should follow Jesus, as it says in the Injil, the gospel? He still may not have understood how Jesus could be God. But he could have reasoned that if the angel had told him to read it, that he should just trust that in time, God would make clear to him, that which he could not understand with his natural mind and logical thinking. Don’t you think that he could have trusted that the angel would not have asked him to read it if it was false?
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P.S. Did you like the words written here? Were they an enlightenment to your soul? Would you or a friend or acquaintance be able to translate this page into a language a majority of Muslims speak like Arabic, Farsi, French, Hindi etc.? Would you be able and like to help enlightening the Islamic world and be a tool in this for God to use to His glory and spreading of His Good News? May God bless you and make you a blessing to many!
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