I watched a bit more of the PBS special with Joseph Campbell on the power of myth. He told a story of a ritual performed very literally. In Papau New Guinea, I believe.

A structure is built with a towering roof and large pillars of old trees. A female is decorated as a goddess and waits inside for six males who, one by one, have their turn losing their virginity to her. When the last man enters the hut and her, the pillars are knocked down and the structure collapses, crushing them both. The remains are lit on fire and the bodies of the two are roasted by the fire, removed from the ashes, and eaten by the tribe.

Barbaric, sure. It is a literal enactment of a very common ritual/myth. It is a paradox. Life must end so that life can continue. We are nourished by what we destroy. Sacrafice.

We aren’t removed from that process. Even if we aren’t cannibals, we can pretend. Who has ever eaten the body of Christ? As a young Catholic girl, I did that plenty of times. I’d stick him in wafer form to the roof of my mouth, savoring his slow dissolve. Sadly, I never drank his blood. I think in my church it was fruit juice not wine, but my Mom always had a thing about sipping from the same cup as anyone else. I guess Mom wasn’t convinced Jesus’ fruit-juice blood was powerful enough to kill all churchgoer cooties. No drinking blood for us.

When I heard the story of the Papau New Guinea ritual, I wondered. How did it feel for the two of them alone? Her and the last man. Him knowing that his first sexual experience with this used goddess woman would be his death. She knowing, after being taken by others, he would be the one who would stay with her forever. They would die together, by smashing or fire.

Was his arrival any sense of comfort to her? Could there be love between them in that moment of terror? Could there not?

Was there hate in their meeting? If so, hate for who?

And the feast that follows: are they served with salt? Does the tribe cry chewing on their charred flesh?

Who can judge the value of a life? Certainly not us. We’re busy eating.