He is to dip his finger into the blood and sprinkle some of it seven times before the Lord, in front of the curtain of the sanctuary. The priest shall then put some of the blood on the horns of the altar of fragrant incense that is before the Lord in the tent of meeting. The rest of the bull’s blood he shall pour out at the base of the altar of burnt offering at the entrance to the tent of meeting. –Leviticus 4:6 & 7, NIV
It was ironic, though- he slightly cringed every time he had to stab a ram to his timeless death. He knew the ritual hand by hand –for he has been doing this for eight thousand days-, but his face seems to have lost the sheer appeal of the sacrifice. It was all the same: get the tithe, kill the animal, sprinkle the blood, take its guts out, release, bless, repeat. He had to do that for his sisters. he had to do that for his brothers. He had to do that for himself. Not that he wasn’t sick of it; he was just burned out.
It was a messy altar. After every sacrifice, they had to clean it up for the next sacrifice. He was forced to have a strong stomach in order to do that every day! In his mind, he hoped the day someone of his children will replace him. Nevertheless, he kept pushing. But even so, he still asked: “God, why is this job so messy?”
But one calm winter night, he fell into a deep sleep. From his bed, he woke up to a rocky hill. Everything looked cold and empty. Even the sunrays were too cold for his eyes! It was bleak and totally eye-displeasing, so blurry and opaque.
Until he heard a clang of a nail across the wood, and the groan of a grown man. He rushed to see a field of empty crosses that stretched beyond the horizon’s eye. But in the middle of those crosses, there was one with a man covered with bloody sores and a crown of thorns. He was shriveling, naked, and every inch of his blood fell through the cracks. Every drip-drop of the blood spread throughout the rock made the floor glow with a deeper red. It turned pink, then magenta, then red, then burgundy, then wine. Every drip-drop made the ground darker, and darker, and even darker.
Light seeped through the rocky cracks. The ground started shaking, startling the high priest. The man’s heart pounded faster, while his groans were growing even more aching. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe. That is, until, his las groan left to the body, and…
CRAAAAACCKKKKK!!!! The earth split in half.
And from that dream, he woke up, with his heart in his hand.