Monday, bloody Monday

I wish I could recall where I read it, but I can’t. Some journalist or poet or high school essay writer made the observation that “Christianity is such a bloody religion.” At the time, I remember thinking how right he/she was, and spent a few days pondering why God decided on animal sacrifices and a cross and so much bleeding.

Yesterday, I spent the day with my friend Diana who you know is battling leukemia. We thought we were headed to the hospital for a regular check-up, but the conversation with the doctor was all about blood and eventually we learned that we would wait around for her to receive platelets intravenously.

I have been blessed enough to walk this road with Diana. I have listened and learned and I have watched what happens when she receives healthy donated blood. I have discovered, first hand, that blood is truly her life force – it cleanses and carries and heals and flows. After a transfusion, she is (albeit temporarily) fixed.

Realizing that the unknown author of “bloody religion” was most likely adding the violence of Christianity – the crucifixion, the Crusades, the Passover, etc. – to his/her opinion, I am coming to a place where I also understand the purer nature, the intended purpose, of blood. Suddenly, as I celebrate blood with my friend, it makes perfect sense that God would choose to express His life-giving using the red, sticky stuff.

So, as I sit here and type, I think of it coursing through my veins. In my mind’s eye, I watch it continually doing its work even though I am mostly unaware. I am thankful for my blood. And for that which He donated to cleanse and carry and heal my needs-to-be-fixed life.