I have read a smidgen of response to 'Blood Meridian', a book I'm sure has been religiously deconstructed. So I’m sure this has already been hashed over: (I read the book, how-long-ago(?!) and this morning: the simple overarching tale: The protagonist in Blood Meridian named 'the kid', is another everyman or woman on their/our path through this Bloody life.
But like so much literature I read, and people, and even us Christians, we grasp for some implied and unsatisfying solution in some tucked paragraph of a book, of life or sport or mall-bought item or bottle or two million other distractions from our own Bloody lives... and so trip over the redemption we search for: Jesus. Then. It is there when my face is in the dirt that I am reminded to call of Him. And when I do, in spite of me and my reasonings and my messes and my troubles, I am amazed and humbled when I am consumed by His Spirit--so peaceful, so loving, so melting, so touchable, so refreshing, like a cleansing whiskey for the soul times two thousand, He makes all else and the fool I am seem temporal and nothing and all I know is Christ and Him crucified.
