This is necessary,
This is necessary,
Life feeds on life,
Feeds on life,
Feeds on life…
We speak of blood for oil, but long before we understood the nature of combustion, we understood sacrifice:
The universe is hungry for blood.
The Earth feeds us, but She demands a price; a portion of Her bounty must be returned.
Thus, we sustain the Fifth, and final world.
Not with prayers and supplications, but with the essence of life itself:
We give Blood for the Harvest.
Aztec sensibilities definitely veered towards the practical: once it was clear that human sacrifice was beneficent, it became a repetitive (perhaps even obsessive) cultural expression.
Now, in our modern, Western world, we’ve moved past all of that; our wars aren’t Pagan displays of brutal violence.
No, we are very civilized.
We wipe our hands with Purell after the act…
Huitzilopochtli is the Southern Hummingbird, He who stands on the left.
He is the God of War, the Dart Hunter, the Divine Hurler.
He bears the turquoise serpent Xiuhcoatl as a weapon.
He burns with rage.
At His birth, that rage was inflicted on His four hundred brothers, and most violently, His sister:
He ripped out Her sacred heart, and tossed Her body down a mountain…
The First Sun?
The Jaguars devoured it.
The Second Sun?
The Hurricanes drowned it.
The Third Sun?
Offered up to the Fiery Rains.
The Fourth Sun?
Lost to the Waters, the Great Flood.
Gather around, Gods…We must protect the Fifth Sun.
In some accounts, Huitzilopochtli is the sun, while His sister is the moon. His terrified brothers, scattered across the expanse, are the stars.
His story is important since it situates Aztec ritual human sacrifice, giving it an element of divine sanction.
However, there is an alternate telling relating to the Fifth Sun, also worth examining:
The Rabbit in the Moon.
The Gods knew that a sacrifice was required.
The proud God Tecuciztecatl offered Himself to become the Fifth Sun; however, at the last minute, he froze. Instead, the quiet God Nanahiuatzin leaped into the sacrificial fire, transforming Himself into the Fifth Sun.
Shamed, Tecuciztecatl followed Nanahiuatzin into the fire; now there were two Suns.
The Earth scorched, and the Gods acted. They looked around for something – anything – to diminish Tecuciztecatl’s light.
In desperation, they flung a rabbit in His path; the rabbit dimmed His light, and now we a have our Moon.
With a stranded rabbit on it.
However, all was not well…
The sun, the quiet God Nanahiuatzin, did not move.
And the earth burned…
The Fifth Sun required sacrifice…
The accounts of Meso-American human sacrifice are fraught with difficulty; the primary reporters were unabashed in their biases. How much exaggeration runs through their codices and narratives? Probably a lot.
Still, there are enough cultural artifacts to indicate that human sacrifice took place…
What’s the take-away?
Well, the sun is still moving, isn’t it?
The Harvest has been well fed…