skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Let me turn to another type of
sacrifice that my dictionary defines: ”An act of giving up
something valued for the sake of acquiring something else regarded as
more important.” This is another kind of sacrifice that seems to
have gone out of favor these days. When I was young, people often
purchased things from the store on so-called “lay-away plans.”
You picked out something you desired, put some money down, and the
store stashed the object in the back room. You made payments as you
were able, until the purchase price was met and it was yours. Such a
concept of delayed gratification is literally unknown today, as
credit card companies encourage you to have whatever you want now—as
long as you pay them usury charges of 22% or more on the balance.
In an classic experiment in 1970,
Walter Mischel, a researcher at Columbia University, conducted a
study in which young children were placed at a table upon which one
marshmallow sat. The experimenter told the child that she had to
leave the room for a few minutes. If, while she was gone, the kid
could refrain from eating the one marshmallow in hand, a second
marshmallow would be rewarded upon her return. The kids were filmed
through a one-way mirror, and the torment they went through is
hilarious to watch.
Mischel then followed the kids over
the next decade or two. What he showed was that those kids who
demonstrated self-control and won the second marshmallow were later
more successful in life. Delayed gratification brought them greater
achievement. As in the above dictionary definition, they were able to
give up something of value (a single treat) to acquire something of
greater value (two treats).
Michael Foley, in his book The
Age of Absurdity: Why Modern Life Makes it Hard to be Happy,
addresses this issue in a bit different manner. He describes
Mischel's marshmallow experiment and uses it to make the point that
if we can resist the desire for immediate gratification for anything
(even yummy marshmallows), we have a better chance of achieving
long-term fulfillment in our lives. He points out that fulfillment is
hard work and that many people in modern society do not really want
to do the hard work, because our culture teaches us that our desires
can easily be satisfied with little effort.
So we no longer sacrifice—either
in the sense of slaughtering an animal to the gods or by exercising
self-control and delaying gratification. In either case, sacrifice is
giving up something desirable today (like that delectable marshmallow
beckoning me) for a bigger reward tomorrow. It calls for planning and
letting go an immediate satisfaction for a happier future. It calls
for hard work. Not many people are willing to wait.
I found myself thinking recently
about the ancient practice of sacrifice—whereby our deep ancestors
made offerings to the gods, in the hope that the sacrifice would
please them and they'd in turn grant the entreaties made in their
name. There are countless examples of our forebears making oblations
to their gods.
Why sacrifice? Those ancients did
not understand how most natural events came about. Beneficial
happenings—such as good rains, victory in battle, and good
health—were believed to be delivered by the gods. Likewise, harmful
happenings—disease, earthquakes, and floods—were also dispatched
by the gods. The ancients believed that the gods could be helpful or
harmful; it depended on their mood. In order to curry favor or
placate them, the ancients often engaged in elaborate sacrificial
ceremonies.
But what does it really mean to
sacrifice? It has a wide variety of connotation—depending on the
topic and the situation. My dictionary defines sacrifice as no less
than six kinds of events: (1) an act of offering to a supernatural
figure, in the way of slaughtering an animal (or person!) or
surrendering some possession; (2) an act of giving up something of
value for the sake of acquiring something else regarded as more
important; (3) Jesus offering himself for the redemption of mankind;
(4) a chess move, whereby one offers an opponent a piece, for
strategic or tactical reasons; (5) in baseball, a bunt that puts the
batter out, but advances one's team's base runner; (6) in bridge, a
bid that is made with the belief that it would be less costly to be
defeated, than to allow your opponents to make their contract. Those
various definitions surely cover a lot of sacrificial ground!
Returning to our deep ancestors'
sacrifices to the gods in exchange for favorable circumstances: their
acts were essentially based on an ignorance of the natural world. An
ancient Greek philosopher (Epicurus, 5th century BCE) and
a later Roman poet/writer (Lucretius, 50 BCE) both put forth the
argument that earthquakes, floods, and bountiful growing seasons were
not due to the capriciousness of the gods. They were natural
happenings. In fact, these sages reasoned that the gods had better
things to do than either bedevil or bless humans. Hence, they
counseled that sacrifices were for naught. It was a fool's errand to
appeal to the gods. Don't waste your prize goat.
However, their message fell on deaf
ears, as humans continued to make sacrifices. Why? It is quite
natural for us to conceive of storms, drought, and diseases as events
far larger than ourselves—events that must be caused by a super
being. Thus people carried on with the practice of offering something
of value to the powers that be. Many acts of sacrifice demand our
giving up something we really value—otherwise, it's a hollow deed.
So our forebears came to choose the most perfect of their animals to
slaughter. In the case of Abraham, he was even ready to kill his own
son, to please God!
I wonder how the sacrificial
ceremony and its aftermath might have played out differently, for
those living in polytheistic versus monotheistic cultures. For
example, in ancient Greece or Rome, people often selected one of many
gods to be their personal deity. They had an altar in their home,
with icons and other paraphernalia relating to their god of choice.
The family developed ceremonies and appropriate sacrifices to their
private god.
I wonder what did they do when
their offering seemed to be spurned? “Hey, I killed my prize goat
and we still had a crappy harvest!” Did they conclude that
their sacrifice was not up to snuff and thus select two
perfect goats next time, or did they get pissed off at their god and
decide to worship another one? They had a sizable pantheon to select
from.
Then along came monotheism,
introduced by the Hebrews. Now there was only one God to sacrifice
to. I wonder what did the monotheists did, when their sacrifices
failed to deliver the goods? They were not afforded the opportunity
to switch deities. They either had to embellish the next sacrifice,
or conclude that God works in mysterious ways and muddle on. Luckily,
humans later came to understand that many good and bad events indeed
are natural happenings that do not call for sacrifices for
which one will be granted favors or to be spared from tragedy. The
hope of influencing events lives on, however, in the form of prayers
offered for favors.
More on sacrificing next time...