As the world watches the Middle East engulfed in war, we must recognize that behind the political and military battles, there is a deeper spiritual reckoning taking place.
Syria, once a cradle of early Jewish-Christian communities, is now a battlefield where Alawites, Christians, and others are caught between forces far beyond their control. But why is this happening? Why does the bloodshed persist? And why is it that, even now, the Muslim world continues to wait for a deliverer while missing the one who has already come?
As we enter Ramadan, it is time to consider whether this fast—one of the holiest times in Islam—was originally a reflection of the 30-day Nativity Fast, tied to the lunar calendar and deeply connected to Jewish traditions. If so, then it must draw our attention to a deeper question: What kind of Messiah is Islam waiting for? And why is it that Islam, in its earliest form, anticipated a Mosaic savior rather than the anointed Davidic King—the very fulfillment found in Jesus Christ?
This question is not just theological; it is at the heart of the crisis unfolding in the Holy Land and throughout the Muslim world today.
In this clip, Joe discusses the crucial distinction
between the use of Messiah as either Savior or Anointed—
terms that have been conflated in ways that distort their true meaning.
Understanding the difference between the Hebrew
Moshiach and Mashiach
is essential. Perhaps it helps to see it as Moses delivers,
and that the Davidic Anointed is fulfilled.
The implications of this distinction are profound!
…and why Isaiah 53 is out of the Babylonian Talmud
⸻
Ramadan and the Nativity Fast: The Forgotten Connection
Many Christians and Muslims today do not realize how intertwined their traditions once were. Before Islam became a distinct religious identity, it emerged from a world saturated in Jewish and Christian thought. The earliest Muslim communities followed a lunar calendar—just as the biblical feasts do—and practiced fasting in a way that paralleled Jewish traditions.
Many Christians and Muslims today do not realize how intertwined their traditions once were. Before Islam became a distinct religious identity, it emerged from a world saturated in Jewish and Christian thought. The earliest Muslim communities followed a lunar calendar—just as the biblical feasts do—and practiced fasting in a way that paralleled Jewish traditions.
In early Christianity, particularly among Eastern communities, there was a 30-day fast leading up to the Nativity, much like the Advent season in the West. This fast, known as the Nativity Fast, was a time of preparation, purification, and anticipation of the coming of the Messiah. The fact that Ramadan follows a lunar cycle—just like the Hebrew calendar—raises the question: Was Ramadan originally part of this same preparatory fasting tradition?
If so, then the implications are enormous. It means that Islam, at its root, was looking for a Messiah—not a Davidic king but a Mosaic figure who would bring divine guidance, law, and deliverance. And if this expectation was already embedded in early Islam, it helps explain why the Muslim world has struggled to see Jesus as the fulfillment of their deepest longings.
⸻
A Messiah in the Image of Moses, Not David
One of the great theological divides between Judaism and Christianity is the nature of the Messiah. Jews have long expected a Davidic ruler who would restore the kingdom of Israel. Christianity, by contrast, sees Jesus as the anointed one (Mashiach), who came first as a suffering servant before returning in glory.
But Islam, shaped by a different set of expectations, did not develop around the hope of a Davidic Messiah. Instead, Islam’s vision of prophecy was modeled after Moses—receiving divine law, leading a people out of oppression, and establishing a just society. Muhammad, in this framework, was seen as a lawgiver like Moses, not as a king like David.
This is why, to this day, many in the Muslim world still expect a Mahdi—a messianic figure who will resemble Moses more than David. They are not waiting for a suffering servant who will redeem through sacrifice; they are waiting for a political deliverer who will restore order and law. And this expectation has shaped not only Islamic eschatology but also the geopolitical conflicts raging today.
⸻
The Geopolitical Reckoning: Why Syria Matters
If we understand this, then we can better grasp what is happening in places like Syria. The Alawites—who have long been targeted by jihadist groups—trace their spiritual lineage to early Islamic sects that retained many Jewish-Christian elements. The persecution of Alawites and Christians in Syria is not just about politics; it is about the ongoing attempt to erase communities that carry traces of a different, older understanding of prophecy and Messiah.
Why, for example, does ISIS destroy churches and massacre Christians and Alawites, yet largely avoid direct attacks on Israel? Why do these jihadist movements, often backed by intelligence agencies, seem intent on erasing certain forms of Islam while leaving others untouched?
The answer lies in the great deception of our time: The battle of Gog and Magog is raging, but it is not simply a war between nations—it is a war over the identity of the true Messiah. Militant groups, political Zionists, and intelligence agencies are manipulating eschatology to fit their own ends, while the truth remains buried.
Meanwhile, as Islam awaits a savior, the world burns.
⸻
A Call to Recognition: The Messiah Has Already Come
So, what does this mean for us today? It means that Islam’s deepest longing—the expectation of a divinely sent deliverer—has already been fulfilled in Jesus Christ. But because Islam looked for a Mosaic figure rather than a Davidic king, it has missed the full reality of who He is.
This is where the great reconciliation must begin. The Messiah is not coming as a warlord or a political ruler. He has already come as the Lamb who was slain. And He is returning, not to establish another earthly kingdom, but to bring final restoration. The deception that fuels war and division will not end until this truth is recognized.
As Ramadan begins, let this be a time for Christians to pray—not only for peace but for eyes to be opened. Let it be a time for Muslims to seek the truth about the Messiah they long for. And let us all recognize that the true war is not between East and West, or Islam and Christianity, but between truth and deception.
Gog is raging. But the Lamb has already overcome.
It is time to see.
