Driving home with three girls and a baby crammed in the passenger seat with a load of grass and firewood in the back of the truck, I stopped to take a picture.
The villages around the compound had a celebration last week that lasted a few days. They were celebrating, because a man from another village brought his bull to be slaughtered for eating. The head of said bull? In the above picture.
It is high up in the tree, which means someone had to climb the tree to place it there. This is not a feat too daring for the Toposa. Shimmying up a tree for them is like using a fork to eat for us…becomes second nature.
Looking up at the bull, which, by the way, I found very creepy hanging up there with those strings of cow hide blowing in the wind, I thought about what this means. To Toposa, the bull is the most important thing. Cows run the show in Toposaland.
They take the top spot in the lives of men. They are the basis for social standings. They are more important to Toposa men than wives, children, goats, money, gardens, or food. Daughters are wonderful to have, only because they will eventually get married and bring more cows as a dowry to their fathers. For a bull, a man will kill those who dare to attempt to steal it. They are life and death to the Toposa. They are providers of wealth and status, milk and meat.
As we left the hanging head, I thought about my own life. What is my bull? What do I hang on the trees on the road of my life? How many times have I climbed up and hung an A+ in the top of a tree? What about praise from others? Or my schedule or my plans or my dreams? And myself? Have I even climbed up to post myself up for all to see, hoping that people look to me and think ‘wow’?
Thinking about these things made my sick, just like looking at that head in the tree.
What are these things? Dead. Lifeless. Temporary. Nothing. Something blown by the wind.
Like the head of a bull.
The only thing that should cause me to drop everything and look up is the face of God. And as His child and follower, I should climb, with everything I have, to point to the One who hung on a tree for every person, black and white, American and Toposa, man, woman, and child.
When you look at the picture of the bull’s head, ask yourself: “What is my bull?”
And then run as fast as you can, and tear it down.
“Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us, for it is written:
‘Cursed is everyone who is hung on a tree.’”
Galatians 3:13
Pray that one day the Toposa will no longer hold cows as their greatest treasure.
Pray that their celebrations will take place to instead bring honor and glory to Jesus Christ.
This was AWESOME! I needed to hear it :)
ReplyDeleteAlso, we were talking about Ecc. 1 in church yesterday, which has a very similar to tone to what you said about the things we work for being temporary, lifeless when God himself is the only One to whom we can go to have life and meaning! I love it!