Bloodlust

I have been wrestling with something lately. I don't really remember when it started, but I know it was a while ago. I started seeing a fascination with blood. Let me explain:

I know these teenage girls who cut themselves. One of them cuts herself all of the time. She has tried to quit, but it is difficult. I've asked her why she does it, and she shrugs her shoulders. "I don't know." She gets quiet and fidgety. "My counselor tells me that it is a way for me to express the pain deep inside. He's probably right because I really don't feel anything. I just feel better when I see my blood." Inside I weep for her. The suppressed pain that drives her must be horrible, and I wonder what it is about seeing her blood that makes her feel better.

Recently, I have been hearing about this movie called "Faces of Death, part IV." This movie is real video footage of executions, suicides, accidental deaths, and other macabre situations. That people pay money to see this surprises me. Most of us cringe when we hear about someone dying in an accident. We are saddened to hear about suicides. Many people can't even take the sight of blook, yet here is the 4th movie/documentary offering blood and death as entertainment. It reminds me of the Roman games. In the Roman Empire, thousands would gather to watch men fight animals, other men, sometimes even women to the death. Early Christians were eaten by lions or sometimes set on fire. People were horrified, yet just like today the people were entertained in some morbid why by watching someone bleed and die.

When I was in high school the president of our FFA chapter was watching a mature steer get dehorned. Mind you, this is a very bloody event as the base of the horn is about 1.5 inches and is full of blood vessels. Anyhow, in the midst of this demonstration, he fainted...Eyes rolled back, fell over, the whole bit! Everyone laughed and made fun of Mr. FFA himself. Deep inside though, I think everyone was glad it wasn't them. The blood was everywhere, and more than one person looked as white as a sheet. It's interesting to me that the greatest predator the world has ever seen faints so easily at the sight of blood.

This April we celebrated Good Friday at church. I couldn't help but think: Here we are. We are gathered together to celebrate this one man suffer, bleed, and die. Each month we celebrate it again by drinking his blood and eating his flesh. No wonder the Romans were freaked! We have an entire religion based upon blood and death. As I have thought about this more, I realize that every ancient religion does sacrifice. We kill life, and we pour out the essence of life, blood. From our earliest times, we have had this need to see blood flow. Somehow, it makes us feel better. From blood and death, we see new life...often eternal life.

From squeemish to bloodlust, humans have a truly spiritual experience when blood is shed. It is the most basic of religious rites. This has made me wonder...Did God need the Cross or did I? I've always struggled with why God didn't just forgive us. Why did Jesus have to die? Maybe, it isn't about God after all. What does this say about me? About you? About us?

I don't have any answers, yet (when I do, I'll right a book...so please buy it). But one thing I am coming to believe. Our mortality consumes us. Our beliefs in God, afterlife, sin, forgiveness, they are all tied in some way to our experience of bloodlust. Our fascination with blood is a reaction to our own mortality. Through blood we look past this life, and we are brought face to face with death. It is the most powerful symbol of faith the world has ever known. We need blood. I don't know anymore if God is the one who needed the Cross...Maybe it was just me and my bloodlust.

I'm interested in your thoughts.