Blood & Stone: Violence in the Bible & the Eye of the Illustrator

Cross Currents, Summer, 2001 by Barry Moser

Sacrifice, a central tenet of Judaism and Christianity, is implicitly violent. A young bullock is killed, its throat slit, its blood drained. The animal struggles until its death-throes cease. Its blood, a source of purification, is sprinkled on the altar. The violence continues as the animal is flayed, quartered, and burnt. Barbecues for a demanding God who seems (according to the Tanakh) to relish blood sacrifices and burnt offerings.

In the Christian Bible we confront the cruel and sanguinary sacrifice of Jesus Christ, God's own son -- the ultimate act of violence. But once again, do we see that blood, that cruelty, and that violence in the images of the crucifixion? Not often. It has been leached off. Pared away. Hidden behind platitudes or the commonplace appearance of a sweet, languid Jesus attached without stress to his cross. Only a handful of paintings have dared show the agony that accompanies death by crucifixion. Death brought on, slowly, by exposure to the scorching sun. Sun that sears and blisters the flesh. Brought on by exposure to scavenger birds, who -- perching with sharp talons on naked and bloodstained shoulders -- peck out eyes, going for brains. Brought on by exposure to scavenger dogs that bite and rip the flesh of the lower legs and feet, mercifully expediting death. And finally brought on by asphyxiation -- breathe in, but can't breathe out. Perhaps, toward the end, it was so horrific that even a battle-forged sold ier could stand it no longer and thrust a spear into Jesus' heart bringing His suffering to an end.

So why all the violence? All the blood and burning in the sacred texts?

I think they are warnings to all listeners, readers, and believers of the dire and mortal consequences of sin and disobedience. And I also think they are simple, vivid images that inflate and decorate good yarns, making them more instructive and memorable. Violence adds impulse and vigor to the tales we tell ourselves and to the narratives of admonition and exhortation. Like salt, it adds flavor to bland food, or when rubbed into a wound, burns while it heals.

In an article in Teaching Tolerance, [5] Sara Bullard addressed the question of what makes violence attractive as a recurring theme in art -- from great literary works like Beowulf and Shakespeare all the way to the lyrics of gangsta rap. She concludes that violence in art serves a valuable sociological function, allowing us to recognize the ultimate frailty of human life. And when we create our songs and stories and pictures out of experiences of violence, we are somehow civilizing it, taming it, creating something which becomes a tool, a legacy, to further educate and civilize those who follow us. I believe this is even more true of the Bible, where the violence that rends lives and destroys civilizations, creates in us simple, yet stark and vivid images which amplify and decorate the historical stories, making them all the more powerfully pedagogical and memorable. The biblical reality of blood and death opens a way to greater wisdom and light.