Shamanism in Film & Self-Sacrifice
02/28
Last week we watched the film “The Jacket.”
Adrien Brody’s “Jack” portrays the Christ figure by ultimately giving his life up for the redemption of his friends and enemies alike.
Through class discussion, we learned to view Jack’s experience in the morgue drawer as a example of shamanism. Jack’s learns to enter into such a horrific environment in which he undergoes the pain of darkness, difficulty breathing, panic as a result of claustrophobia. The most intense pain is the experience triggered by the lesser pains, the evoking of the most disturbing flashbacks from the war due to his PTSD.
I was prompted to revisit the conversation of shamanism as I found myself in a most unlikely circumstance the next day. The American Red Cross came to campus to host a blood drive. I had previously been deemed ineligible but I decided to make an appointment anyway. The nurse said that I passed and the next thing I knew I was in the chair being swabbed with a numbing substance. Only then did I realize I had not mentally prepared to be stabbed with a needle on the assumption that I would be rejected, but it was too late to withdraw. I quickly resolved that I had more than enough healthy blood to give and it would be selfish and cowardly not to. With enthusiasm, I settled into my chair and hardly noticed when the pain of the needle prick bit into my right arm. This experience could be viewed as a microcosm of the shamanistic encounter in a more practical sense than my life experience allows me to draw from. The blood sacrifice of the Christ figure came to mind as I watched the nurse connect the IV to five vials so that the red running through my arm flowed through the hose and into the tubes to be tested for donor quality.
The experience felt much more significant than any of my other activities that day, and although I walked out of the room unceremoniously, I left changed. The process of physically handing over a portion of the lifesource that runs through me, powering my existence was certainly, though, subtly, transcendent. The nature of the donation being offered as a gift on behalf of someone who needs healing reminded me of the shamans and how they operate in the role of a healer. Like Jack, the shamans offer up themselves willingly and enter into a transcendent experience, often wrought with visions. Of course, I did not see the kind of shamanistic vision induced by hallucinogens and extreme physical torture. On a spiritual level, I felt extremely humbled by the image of the Crucifixion and what the gift of blood in its fullest means to the believer.
Last week we watched the film “The Jacket.”
Adrien Brody’s “Jack” portrays the Christ figure by ultimately giving his life up for the redemption of his friends and enemies alike.
Through class discussion, we learned to view Jack’s experience in the morgue drawer as a example of shamanism. Jack’s learns to enter into such a horrific environment in which he undergoes the pain of darkness, difficulty breathing, panic as a result of claustrophobia. The most intense pain is the experience triggered by the lesser pains, the evoking of the most disturbing flashbacks from the war due to his PTSD.
I was prompted to revisit the conversation of shamanism as I found myself in a most unlikely circumstance the next day. The American Red Cross came to campus to host a blood drive. I had previously been deemed ineligible but I decided to make an appointment anyway. The nurse said that I passed and the next thing I knew I was in the chair being swabbed with a numbing substance. Only then did I realize I had not mentally prepared to be stabbed with a needle on the assumption that I would be rejected, but it was too late to withdraw. I quickly resolved that I had more than enough healthy blood to give and it would be selfish and cowardly not to. With enthusiasm, I settled into my chair and hardly noticed when the pain of the needle prick bit into my right arm. This experience could be viewed as a microcosm of the shamanistic encounter in a more practical sense than my life experience allows me to draw from. The blood sacrifice of the Christ figure came to mind as I watched the nurse connect the IV to five vials so that the red running through my arm flowed through the hose and into the tubes to be tested for donor quality.
The experience felt much more significant than any of my other activities that day, and although I walked out of the room unceremoniously, I left changed. The process of physically handing over a portion of the lifesource that runs through me, powering my existence was certainly, though, subtly, transcendent. The nature of the donation being offered as a gift on behalf of someone who needs healing reminded me of the shamans and how they operate in the role of a healer. Like Jack, the shamans offer up themselves willingly and enter into a transcendent experience, often wrought with visions. Of course, I did not see the kind of shamanistic vision induced by hallucinogens and extreme physical torture. On a spiritual level, I felt extremely humbled by the image of the Crucifixion and what the gift of blood in its fullest means to the believer.
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