My soul can bear many things. I don’t know, though, how much I can bear a permanent scar. I don’t mean a slash to the face or a broken bone or something of that nature. A permanent scar endures not merely through your lifetime, but it can exist for generations. Permanent scars, it seems, can cut so deep as to redefine who are you and who you must be in the future.
I believe that Ryan Moats and his family have suffered a permanent scar. I wrote about the incident earlier today. The comments have captured the raw, agonizing and soul crushing pain of a permanent scar. Sometimes injuries this deep can only be healed through the shedding of blood. In order for blood to be shed, skin must be cut, torn, punctured, shredded or bruised. The act of drawing blood is violent, but it is a part of the circle of life, and there can be no question that violence has its place.
The very process of our birth is bloody and violent – in a manner of speaking. There is pain and suffering — and at the end of the birth, there is something new, something unprecedented and unpredictable. Thoughts of the blood and violence which came before are supplanted by a shared joy and expectation.
Ryan Moats is not the only person to suffer so. Surely many, many of our families suffered the cruel indignity of being ripped from one another’s arms on plantations and auction blocks all across this nation. And there have been more unspeakable things that this human family has endured. Some spirits fight and endure more and better than others…and some require a little blood letting.
The Kemites of antiquity knew this when they fashioned the story of Ausar, Auset and Heru. Centuries later, the story of ritual blood-letting, of redemptive violence and rebirth would be appropriated by Christians and memorialized on their Sun (helios) Book (biblia).
May Ra be pleased when blood is shed and spirits are cleansed of permanent scars. Let the choir say, “Amen-Ra.”