The Torah commands: "the one lamb shall you offer in the morning, and the other lamb shall you offer in the afternoon" (Numbers 28:4). This is the tamid, the daily perpetual offering — two lambs sacrificed every single day in the Temple, without exception. The Mekhilta raises the same challenge it posed about the altar wood: why does God need this?
The prophet Isaiah declared that not even all the beasts of Lebanon would be "sufficient for a burnt-offering" (Isaiah 40:16). If the entire animal kingdom cannot adequately honor God through sacrifice, what significance could two small lambs possibly carry? The offering is cosmically insignificant. God, who spoke the universe into existence, is not sustained by lamb meat.
The answer, again, is reward. "The one lamb" is offered not because God requires it but because Israel benefits from offering it. The daily act of bringing a sacrifice — morning and evening, in sunshine and in rain, in times of prosperity and times of despair — creates a rhythm of devotion that shapes the national character. The tamid was the heartbeat of the Temple service, the one offering that never stopped, and its constancy trained Israel in faithfulness.
The Mekhilta is making the same point for the third time in succession, and the repetition is deliberate. Wood on the altar, the first-born dedication, the daily lamb — all serve the same purpose. God gives commandments not to extract service from humans but to give humans a vehicle for earning merit. The offering is always for the offerer.