Ritual Sacrifice E-Book

Brenda Ralph Lewis

• Herausgeber: The History Press
• Kategorie: Religion und Spiritualität
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2007

Seitenzahl: 258

Beschreibung

The principle of sacrifice is as old as human life itself. This book provides an overview of sacrificial practices around the world since prehistoric times. It also examines the reasons behind these rituals, and in the case of human sacrifice an attempt is made to understand the mentality of the 'victims' who often willingly went to their deaths.

Leseprobe

Ritual Sacrifice

An Illustrated History

BRENDA RALPH LEWIS

Title page photograph: Aztec sacrificial knife. The Aztecs were not without a certain grim humour, here linking sex with death. The photograph is of a modern tourist replica. (H.R. Lewis)

First published in 2001 by Sutton Publishing

The History Press

The Mill, Brimscombe Port

Stroud, Gloucestershire, GL5 2QG

www.thehistorypress.co.uk

This ebook edition first published in 2013

All rights reserved

© Brenda Ralph Lewis, 2001, 2013

The right of Brenda Ralph Lewis, to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyrights, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

EPUB ISBN 978 0 7524 9482 1

Original typesetting by The History Press

Contents

Introduction

One

The Nature of Sacrifice: An Overview

Two

The Birth of Belief: Sacrifice in Prehistory

Three

The Wrath of Yahweh: The Bible Lands

Four

In Search of the Sun: Ancient Egypt

Five

A Classic Approach: Greece and Rome

Six

Twilight of the Gods: Northern Europe

Seven

Heart of the Matter: Central and South America

Eight

A Darker Continent: Africa

Nine

A Sacred Profusion: The Indian Subcontinent

Ten

Steppes to Salvation: Central Asia and China

Eleven

Invite to a Cook-Out: The Pacific Islands

Twelve

New Age, New Fears: A Modern Perspective

Sources

Bibliography

Introduction

The principle of sacrifice is as old as human consciousness. The development of human spirituality and an understanding of violent and unpredictable Nature went hand in hand with human evolution. However, whereas social mores, modes of thought, customs, traditions and other facets of cultural life have differed widely across the world, the basics of religion and sacrifice have remained very much the same. There was no need for contact and exchange of ideas or even awareness that any other communities existed as peoples all over the world formulated their beliefs by dipping into a global pool of concepts and practices that transcend time, place and lifestyle.

Even where environments have been radically different – the icy wastes of Siberia, for instance, and the burning deserts of Asia or Africa – the world was once seen to be alive with gods and spirits needing nurture and propitiation. If offered the right sacrifices, they would dispense aid and special favours. From this, ideas applied world-wide that these powers were due their share of successful hunts, harvests, fine craftwork or victory in battle. They would control the excesses of Nature, engineer the cycle of agriculture, ensure the continued availability of materials and fend off floods, volcanic eruptions and all other disasters. They could make human desires and needs into reality.

There was also a universal fear that unless these offerings were made to a very precise formula, then they would be invalid. To ensure perfection, peoples as far apart as the Romans, the Jews and the Chinese, for instance, followed minutely detailed instructions. At one stage in their long history, the Chinese even had a special government department that laid down every move, every gesture, every single word and every syllable involved in their sacrificial ceremonies.

Likewise, the burnt offering was a common form of sacrifice. So were omens and divination as an adjunct to sacrifice, the status of blood as the greatest and most efficacious offering, the sacrifice of the gods themselves to obtain their power and the special place in sacrifice of the first-born son in families.

This last concept arose even in Christianity, which never required physical sacrifices in worship, and waged many wars against the pagans who did. Jesus Christ, regarded by Christians as the only sacrifice that would ever be required by suffering humanity was, after all, the firstborn son of God. There does, however, remain an ancient sacrificial echo in the Catholic belief in transubstantion, the idea that the body and blood of Christ become physically present in the wafer and the wine ingested at Holy Communion.

All over the world, too, gods and spirits were seen as much like human beings, with appetites, moods and ambivalent characteristics. The Hindu gods of India could be both good and evil. Shiva, for example, is both creator and destroyer of worlds. In Greek mythology, the gods lived in a complex interrelationship with humans, frequently intervening to produce offspring whose god-like status was tempered by human frailties. Jehovah, the God of the ancient Hebrews, later enlisted as the God of Christianity and Islam, was capable of great munificence and terrible anger.

All gods needed to be fed and had to receive their portions of food and meals, or they were fed metaphorically by the devotion, obedience and self-sacrifice of their adherents. Sacrifice could be actual or symbolic, set in faiths with many gods or only one. Nevertheless, the relationship with humans has always been the same: humans obeyed and the gods were benevolent, humans disobeyed and punishment and revenge would follow.

Although sacrifice today is not so common as it was in former times, and those who attempt it can sometimes find themselves in court charged with cruelty to animals, the sacrificial urge as such is still present. At least in the western world, people have increasingly turned to the appeasement of secular gods as the power and importance of religion have declined. Casualties in warfare have long been regarded as a ‘necessary sacrifice’ towards political or territorial ends or for the attainment of victory. The phrase ‘the supreme sacrifice’ has been routinely used to describe death in battle for the sake of King and Country.

However, today, neither war nor religion is necessary to occasion sacrifice. Commerce and sport have adopted this mantle. Job cuts, redundancies or factory and mine closures have become new forms of sacrifice, usually for the sake of greater commercial efficiency. On an individual basis, football club managers are routinely fired when they fail to inspire their teams to sufficient success. Government ministers have sometimes been known to resign over misdemeanours committed within their departments. Members of Parliament have been forced to apologise for uttering opinions not in tune with their party’s policy. Society demands these ‘sacrifices’ to ensure that whatever has gone wrong ‘cannot happen again’.

Increasingly, science, technology and materialism emphasise that success comes from within the individual rather than being bestowed from above. According to Bishop John Robinson, author of the controversial Honest to God, published in 1963, God is no longer the frightening father-figure of the Bible, demanding obedience which, if not given, provokes instant penalties. This is a significant change in the concept of God as held by most religions up to very recent times. Long before Robinson, the German philosopher and Lutheran pastor Friedrich Nietzsche went even further and declared that Heaven was empty. God has gone away if, in fact, he was ever there. These are revolutionary ideas. So, too, is the concept that the ultimate goal of human existence is the ability to face up to reality without softening the blow by calling in divine aid. Humans, in other words, have thrown away their spiritual crutches.

It is possible that these new beliefs mark the final transition from dependence on deities and spirits to a new brand of self-confidence and the urge to chart a course through life that does not have to be divinely ordained. However, it is also possible that a majority of human beings have not yet reached this stage and may never do so. There are many millions of people, mostly in the Third World, who remain vulnerable to the depredations of Nature, whose economic base is fragile, whose education is rudimentary and who have no other power to turn to but God for hope of rescue from disaster. While, in the developed world, neopaganism is a growing belief, hinting at the dissatisfaction and even alarm many people feel at the apparent desacralization of the natural world. In this context, reliance on a God or gods is still a powerful force in the world, and a force still deemed to require its rituals and sacrifice so that life may continue and flourish.

1

The Nature of Sacrifice: An Overview

Earth has always been a terrifying place in which to live and the idea of making sacrifices to propitiate its fury is as old as human life itself. First personalized into gods, then into more spiritual beings resembling humans, but infinitely more powerful, Nature’s potential to assault and destroy has been humanity’s perennial predicament. For thousands of years, offering sacrifices to appease these furious forces was humanity’s only answer.

The idea that all misfortune had its origin in the supernatural world – whether it was disease, drought, famine, floods, volcanic eruptions or any other calamity – was recognized wherever people lived close to Nature and its depredations. Seeking for reasons, the conclusion was that some offence had been committed to endanger the relationship between humanity and the gods. Disaster was not only punishment, but signalled a break in the system that governed life on Earth. It also seemed evident that the gods were perpetually angry, and were unlikely to turn beneficent without prompting. Sacrifice, however, had threefold benefits: it could wipe out the offence, please the gods and spirits and restore the divine connection.

The modern scientific world has, of course, abandoned such ideas and relegated them to the realm of ignorance, backwardness and superstition. In doing so, science and technology have changed the ancient relationship between Nature and humanity. The modern imperative is to challenge and ‘conquer’ Nature, not tremble at its powers, perform rituals and so hope to avert its anger. Scientific cures for disease, engineering and aviation achievements, television, computer, nuclear and other technology, the unlocking of the Human Genome, the exploration of Space – all these in some way confront the ‘natural’ order and enable humans to perform feats Nature never intended. Even where the natural forces triumph, through destructive earthquakes, floods or other disasters that destroy homes, lay waste villages or cities and ruin lives, the basic quest is always to find some means of curbing their excesses, solve the problem and put Pandora’s ills back in their box.

In modern society, therefore, the background against which religion and its sacrifices and rituals came to hold such a central place in the ancient world has lost its relevance. Among the ‘advanced’ western societies at least, humans need no longer feel helpless before the fury of forces they cannot control. Fatalism – the acceptance of whatever hand destiny might deal – is no longer the only option. For many, this is what is meant by ‘progress’. For others who distrust this definition and find its implications unnatural, humanity has distanced itself from what was once its proper place in the world.

In this context, the age-old concept of humanity as part of Nature and destined to live in harmony with it, persists today only among those traditional peoples who, knowingly or unknowingly, have stood aside from modern scientific developments. Some tribes living deep in the Amazon jungle, for instance, are not even aware that the world has vastly changed, outdating their way of life, their customs and their practices by many thousands of years. Some native Americans, Australian Aborigines, Pacific islanders or tribes in Africa and the more remote parts of northern Asia remain faithful to the world of their ancestors, honour the same spirits, observe the same taboos and perform the same rituals. The way of their ancestors is the only way they know, and to them, the ancient concept still holds good: Nature is the force that governs everything and, though frequently awesome, it is one that can be made bountiful by means of the right offerings and the right rituals.

This, though, was never a static idea and fatalism in the face of Nature was never entirely supine. It did not take long for ancient peoples to realize that it was possible to ‘make deals’ with Nature. However volatile, violent or vengeful they might appear to be, the gods and spirits could be pre-empted. By offering sacrifices on the ‘in case’ principle, it was possible to tap into the most overwhelming power in the world. In this guise, sacrifices could serve as means of winning divine favour for specific as well as survival purposes – to ensure a good hunt or harvest, to grant fertility or success in war, to ensure protection for the family or community, to preserve good health and strength and generally acquire what was most meaningful and necessary in life.

Sacrifices could also serve to give thanks, for example, after seeking the help of the gods in war and winning a victory. The gods, it was believed, were due a share of the booty, an idea that emerged quite strongly during the Bronze Age, which began around 7,000 years ago. A fundamental change in weaponry took place at that time as the discovery of metals expanded Earth’s usable resources. Now, it became possible to forge weapons out of bronze and later, iron, both of which proved infinitely more durable and deadly than the wood or copper previously used. Consequently, archaeologists have discovered that many thousands of weapons were thrown as thanksgiving sacrifices into the ancient wells and springs where gods dwelt. When improving metallurgical techniques enabled alloy steel to be made from iron some 4,000 years later, the sacrifices became even more lavish, as quantities of weapons, even more vast, were thrown into swamps, lakes and rivers.

Other inanimate sacrifices could take almost any form depending on location. People offered what they had or what was most easily available. Native Americans offered furs, tobacco and food. In Inca Peru, offerings consisted of llamas, guinea pigs, coca leaves, maize and other food, gold and silver ornaments, carvings or feathers. Elsewhere, crops, incense, flowers, fruit, water and even wine were sacrificed. Together with milk, honey, oils, and beer, water and wine were classified as libations essential to life and health.

Water had a particular place in the business of sacrifice, as the indispensable source of all organic existence. Wine sacrifice was hardly less significant. In ancient times, wine was considered the ‘blood of the grape’ and doubled as the ‘blood of the earth’ from which the vines sprang. Wine therefore acquired its own spiritual, life-renewing status.

Regeneration was vital among agricultural communities which deified the Earth as the fount of all survival. Farmers soon perceived the rhythm of the seasons, with death in autumn and winter, rebirth in spring and the flourishing of life in summer. This was a pattern neither humans nor animals could emulate. They simply aged or succumbed to some disease or accident and died. For them, there was no going back. The agricultural cycle, however, was a continual process of going back and performing the same processes year after year after year. Little wonder, then, that the cycle acquired an aura of magic that permeated crops, vegetables, trees and everything else that grew from the ground.

The ultimate ritual in the business of regeneration was the sacrifice of the gods themselves. All round the world, mythologies contained accounts of Creation that include this idea. In the myths of ancient Persia, for instance, Zurvan, god of time and fate, acquired a son to create the world by offering sacrifices for a millennium. Likewise, in ancient Mexico, Aztec myths told how the gods sacrificed themselves in order to create the Sun, a selfless deed re-enacted in Aztec human sacrifice.

When the Spanish conquistadors first arrived in Aztec Mexico in 1519, they were sickened by the scenes of wholesale carnage they witnessed at the sacrificial altars of the capital, Tenochtitlan, and elsewhere in the vast Aztec Empire. What they saw was bloodletting on a scale well beyond what was permissible, or even thinkable, in Europe. What they did not understand – or in many cases seek to understand – was that this was not just the atavistic cruelty of godless savages. For the Aztecs, human sacrifice and the subsequent offering of hearts and blood were imperative if the Sun, which kept their world in existence, was to survive.

Aztec society was so thoroughly infused with this principle that it was considered an honour to serve as a sacrifice, since it transformed ‘victims’ into gods and assured them of a place in the heaven reserved for heroes. As Christians, with no place in their faith for such practices, the Spaniards were utterly puzzled when some Aztecs they saved from the sacrificial knife demanded to die on the altar and so fulfil their perceived destiny. The same mentality marked the response of a Brazilian who, when his sacrifice was prevented, concluded that his life had no meaning now that he could not be offered to the gods and afterwards eaten.

Blood had another, equally fundamental significance in the sacrifice scenario. It was recognized as the major life-force of human beings, which was why ancient agricultural societies used to perform human sacrifice in order to feed the gods and the earth. In Africa, ancient America and elsewhere, this form of sacrifice was used to give regenerative meaning to the aging process of kings. These kings were not regarded as ordinary beings, even though they lived, sickened and died like everyone else. Great mana, or sacred powers, were ascribed to them, but when they grew old, these powers declined.1 This, in turn, endangered the well-being of the tribe, the continuation of their crops and therefore the very survival of a king’s subjects. Rectifying this situation meant, in effect, killing the king so that his powers could be renewed and strengthened in a more vigorous successor. Once the deed was done, the king’s blood was mixed with seedcorn and the belief was that this made the corn abundantly fertile.

The death of kings could be the occasion for human sacrifice in quite another way. Belief in life after death was common in ancient religions. The afterlife, it was thought, was much like life on Earth. Consequently, in Mesopotamia, China, Japan or ancient Egypt, entire retinues of servants, warriors and other royal attendants would be buried, sometimes alive, with a dead monarch. This would ensure that he was properly attended in his next life. In Japan this practice died out by the sixth century AD, due mainly to the pacific influence of Buddhism, but it still occurred in China for another thousand years or more. The sacrifices were normally criminals or slaves, but prisoners captured in war also figured in these rituals. In Africa, the slaves of deceased kings might be buried alive with their dead master, or they were first killed, laid out in the bottom of the royal grave, and the king’s corpse was placed on top of them. The fact that the royal and the eminent were also buried with a mass of belongings – furniture, jewellery, clothing, weapons – increased the image of an important newcomer to the afterlife.

The next world, the repository of dead souls, was widely viewed as a staging-post on the way to the gods. Among its inhabitants were ancestors who, it was believed, could serve as intermediaries. Ancestors were themselves worshipped in many cultures, from Africa to the Pacific, among the peoples of the ancient Mediterranean and Europe and most notably in India, China and Japan. This widespread distribution has persuaded some scholars that most sacrifices were made to ancestors. If so, it would not have been surprising. Dead ancestors were believed to live in close contact with the gods, which gave their intercession an added value. There was virtually no end to the requests that could be made of the ancestors, and no limit, either, to the reasons for offering sacrifices. The purpose might be to atone for wrongdoing, obtain a favour or blessing, ensure good fortune or some other desired benefit or seek protection against disease and help in producing good crops.

The relationship between the generations of a family did not cease with death. In death, ancestors were supposed to feel the same concern for their families they had shown while they were alive and were just as anxious to promote their wellbeing. The offering of sacrifices was, of course, the only feasible means of making contact with them and the only way of propitiating them should they become displeased.

There was, nevertheless, a hierarchy of ancestors that made some better prospects for sacrifice than others. If they had been lowly placed in life, ancestors received worship and sacrifice only from their nearest relatives. Some were not worshipped at all, since they were thought too unimportant to extract favours from the gods or deliver the benefits they had to dispense. Others, like the heads or founders of families, or a particularly wise man or woman, might be worshipped by entire communities and raised, in their estimation, to the status of gods in their own right.

Direct appeals to the gods through sacrifice could also be made, either in the absence of ancestor-worship or as an adjunct to it. Methods included libation, the pouring out of sacrificial wine or other liquid and the ritual spilling of blood, but there was another common practice – sacrifice by burning. There was a certain finality, a ritual commitment, in the destruction of a sacrifice by fire, and symbolic significance in the smoke as it curled towards the sky and so made contact with the gods.

Burnt offerings played a major part in ancient Greek and Jewish sacrifice and, for the Babylonians, there was no other way. All sacrifices were taken to Heaven by their fire god, Girru-Nusku, the intermediary between Heaven and Earth. Likewise, in India, Agni, the Vedic god of fire, brought humans into the presence of the gods after accepting their sacrifices.

Burnt offerings were, for obvious reasons, considered more suitable for the celestial gods, but in ancient Greece they were not thought appropriate for sacrifices to vegetation and fertility gods like Dionysius or Demeter. These ancient Greek sacrifices were known as apura hiera, or fire-less sacrifices. In Vedic practice, the same sacrifices could be made to all the gods, but the location was different: for the celestial gods, sacrifices were placed on a raised altar; for the earth gods they were placed on the ground. In ancient Greece, sacrifices intended for the gods of the underworld were buried, though they were sometimes burned either there or in a trench dug in the earth. Sacrifices to the water gods were similarly direct: humans or animals intended as offerings were drowned in lakes or rivers, and among the Norse Vikings of Scandinavia, they were thrown over cliffs to land in wells or waterfalls.

There was also a much simpler way of offering sacrifices, by placing them on a table or a mat and leaving them there for the gods to collect. In Ancient Egypt, this ceremony in which food and drink were left for the gods was termed ‘performing the presentation of the divine oblations’. It took place every day. A daily sacrifice was also made among Hindus, this time comprising consecrated vegetables and rice, which were afterwards distributed among worshippers. In ancient Israel, priests and, after them, the laity, received the food sacrifices of the ‘table of the shewbread’ or the ‘bread of the presence of God’. Consumption, however, was not part of Ancient Egypt and Greek practice in this form of sacrifice, though if the food disappeared after it was offered, the culprits were likely to be priests or attendants at the temple.

In many religions, priests or those appointed by God for the purpose were the most prominent among those responsible for the making of sacrifices, but before the development of priestly castes, the heads of households or the elders of a tribe were considered best qualified to make sacrifices. This was the case, for instance, in China where there were no professional priests. Apart from the paterfamilias, the only other individual with the right to make offerings was the king or emperor, who conducted the state sacrifices. Similarly, among the Aborigines of Australia, those thought most suitable to lead the acts of sacrifice were old men, who had acquired authority and deep understanding of tribal traditions. This occurred, for instance, among the Ila tribe of Zambia in situations of ‘emergency’ sacrifice when divine intervention was needed to transform an unsuccessful hunt. The oldest man among the hunters would lead the prayers for divine aid and, once a successful kill had been made, he led them again in offering meat as a thanksgiving.

However, the aged and eminent did not have a monopoly of sacrifice. In Vedic practice, it was possible to earn the right to make sacrifices by performing certain rituals. The complexity and severity of these rituals indicate that a proper state of grace had to be acquired before a sacrifice could be made. In this context, making sacrifices was itself a sacred act and would-be ‘sacrificers’ had to be purified before they were fit for contact with the sacred world.

Purification began with the diksa, or initiation, which required ritual bathing, followed by a time spent in seclusion for fasting and prayer. The idea was to remove all traces of the ordinary world, which could prevent the sacrifice achieving full potency and possibly offend the gods. After diksa, a ‘sacrificer’ became detached from the world of the profane. After the sacrifice was made, the process took place in reverse. He or she was returned to their former, ordinary, status by another ritual bath to wash away all traces of sacred power which may have become attached to them.2 This and other, similar rites clearly underlined the basic meaning of the word ‘sacrifice’, which came from the Latin, to ‘make sacred’. It has been suggested that every act of sacrifice was some kind of consecration and that a sacrifice performed outside specially sanctified places was a meaningless killing.3

It has been possible, this far, to formulate a universal explanation for sacrifice, but ‘this far’ has not proved far enough. What remains elusive is a single theory that can explain why sacrifice rather than some other rite arose in the first place. This has not been for want of trying. An early idea, suggested in 1871 by the British anthropologist Sir Edward Burnett Tylor, was that sacrifice was a gift to the gods: this served the dual purpose of winning divine favour and calming divine anger. Sacrifice as a way of creating communion between a people and their gods was suggested by the Scots scholar William Robertson Smith in 1886. This was a more complex theory than Tylor’s, involving a sacrificial meal where communion was established by those who shared food and drink in which the god is present.

Smith’s theories also involved a totem which acted as the sacred symbol of a tribe and had a spiritual connection with it. A totem could be a plant or animal. Normally, it was taboo to eat the flesh of a sacred animal, except on special occasions when it was consumed to reinforce its connection with the tribe. When the animal was sacrificed, this was thought to create a union between the worlds of the sacred and the profane.

A different theory, and an attempt at an all-embracing definition, was the quest of Adolf E. Jensen, a Danish anthropologist who started with the problem of why glorifying the gods required sacrifice at all. Jensen found his solution in a myth of the Dema deities, who were the ancestors of the Marind-Anim tribe of southern New Guinea. Jensen, however, believed that the Marind-Anim were not the only descendants of the Dema deities: the entire human race was descended from them. Long before Man, in the far-distant primal past, the Dema lived on Earth and the start of human history was brought into being when one of the deities was killed. The crops that grew from the body of the dead deity became sacrifices when they were eaten. To Jensen, sacrifice was therefore a repetition of this mythological event.

For Sigmund Freud, the father of psychiatry, this re-enactment had quite another explanation: it was atonement for a son, who had been driven by the Oedipus complex to kill his own father. Full of remorse for this act, the son sacrificed an animal, hoping to reconcile and commune with the dead man through this other victim.

More recently, Richard Dawkins, author of The Selfish Gene published in 1976, has proposed ‘memes’ as an explanation for religion and with that, sacrifice and other rituals. According to Dawkins, memes are the cultural equivalent of genes. Genes, he writes, have a life of their own and use living bodies as a means of furthering their own survival. ‘Natural selection’, as proposed by Charles Darwin, did not take place within species, but within the genes, and just as genes control the human body, memes have the same effect on culture. Both become implanted in society, and in the case of memes result in the spreading of ideas such as patriotism, tastes in music or the arts, fashion and, of course, religion and sacrifice.

This concept of human beings as virtual captives of their own genes and memes became extremely controversial and has remained so, not least because Richard Dawkins is a well-known atheist. There have been strong religious objections to the idea that faith sprang not from spirituality or divine presence, but from the machinations of a cultural chromosome.

There have therefore been many opinions and many interpretations, but no universal agreement about the origin of sacrifice. This is not surprising when neither archaeology, which can provide some clues, nor anthropology, which seeks to unravel them, are exact sciences, with precise truths or self-evident facts. That alone is a valid reason why, this far, a satisfactory and universally acceptable answer to the question ‘Why sacrifice?’ has proved so hard to find.

2

The Birth of Belief: Sacrifice in Prehistory

T