On December 9 of last year, as dawn was breaking, after a week of fasting from eating meat, the Buddhist prohibition against killing was lifted and the faithful citizens of Ta-chia Township in Taichung County set to the slaughter of chickens and ducks and displayed pigs--mouths gorged with pineapple--on the platform for sacrificial gifts, all in celebration of the construction of a new temple. Nor are such events unknown on the national level--Confucius' birthday is also marked by animal sacrifices.
What, then, is the meaning of all this?
Doesn't killing violate Buddhism? In fact, many believers on Taiwan do not distinguish between Buddhism and Taoism, so that for some believers, if the intentions are good, there is nothing strange in the "sacrifices."
These sacrifices, indeed, are probably better described as "offerings," for there is no ritual to celebrate the killing. The rituals are all to celebrate the giving of prepared animal meat as a gift to the gods or the departed.
In China, "sacrifice" has long played an important role. Rules as to which gods deserve what grades of offering are customary and refined. Incense, alcohol and "paper gold" can also be suitable.
The anthropologist Yih-Yuan Li of the Academia Sinica says that different types of offerings indicate different degrees of intimacy. There are two basic principles: "whole" vs. "partial" and "uncooked" vs. "cooked." Thus, sacrifices to the Lord of Heaven would be whole and raw, reflecting greater respect and less intimacy. Ordinary gods (and goddesses) like Matsu get the "five sacrifices" (the head of a pig, chicken, duck, fish, and shrimp) or the "three sacrifices" (a piece of pork and one chicken and one duck); regardless, the meat will not be "whole," and may be slightly cooked. Sacrifices to ancestors would be of common food, cooked or even seasoned, reflecting the intimate knowledge and concern of family members for each other. Ordinary ghosts "just passing through" get a bowl of rice and a glass of wine left on tables lower in height.
Some foreigners might be skeptical. Yih-Yuan Li recalls one foreign scholar asking incredulously, "Do you Chinese really believe your ancestors and gods will come to enjoy the food you've prepared?" Mr. Li responded, "Do you Westerners really believe your ancestors can smell the fresh flowers placed on the graves?"
In fact, flowers or "sacrifices," aside from differences in religious connotation, both contain a single heartfelt meaning. And using animals as offerings has been known in both east and west; in China, they also carry thousands of years of unbroken tradition and symbolic meaning.
Records of the Chou Dynasty (1134 to 247 B.C.) indicate the use of animal sacrifices. The Book of Rites gave refined instruction, admonishing against the use of sacrificial objects not appropriate to the time or place (e.g., people from the mountains should not use fish, people from the sea should likewise avoid deer).
Sacrificial objects also indicated rank. The emperor used cattle, sheep, or pigs raised with the utmost care and attention in the T'ai-Lao (literally, "greater stables"); feudal princes sheep or pigs from the Shao-Lao ("lesser stables"), landed gentry smaller sheep and pigs. . . . In the ancient state of Ch'i a prime minister was suspected of plotting to usurp the throne because he used a T'ai-Lao sacrifice; another was despised by the people for using a small bowl of pig thigh, an offering far below his station.
What of the beasts: are they to be judged fortunate for the fine care they received? Or pitiable because of their fate? Confucius' disciple felt sorry for them, but the Master replied, "In your eye that sheep is pitiable; for me, the ceremony is precious."
According to the Chronology of Lu, the pre-historic Chinese emperor T'ang was willing to offer his hair and nails as a symbolic sacrifice of his own body to end a terrible drought. As expected, the gods delivered rain and brought joy to the people. From this we can see that a sacrifice to Heaven is for the Chinese a most beautiful thing. By no means does it include the idea of "mistreating the poor savage beast"!
[Picture Caption]
Using flour dough to mold adorable "sacrificial lambs" does not violate the Buddhist proscription of taking life, but at the same time is suitable to express sincere respect to the gods. (photo by Yang Wen-ching)
These rams on the sacrificial platform, ribboned in red and positioned in a gallop, quietly await the start of the ceremony. (photo by Yang Wen-ching)
For the ceremony to celebrate Confucius' birth day a whole cattle, whole sheep, and whole pig are sacrificed. These rites to symbolize respect for teachers have not been interrupted for thousands of years.
A thousand catty (about 600 kilos) pig, draped in red and mouth with pin eapple, is used to win the good will of the gods; it also gives passers-by an unusual thrill.
A Look at Relations Between Those Making and Those Receiving Offerings Through the Materials Used as Offerings(picture)
Source: Yih-Yuan Li
For ancestors or popular folk gods, ordinary goods like Chinese pork stew, meatballs, or dried bean curd are usually used. The photo shows offerings set out for the Dragon Boat Festival.
For the ceremony to celebrate Confucius' birth day a whole cattle, whole sheep, and whole pig are sacrificed. These rites to symbolize respect for teachers have not been interrupted for thousands of years.
A thousand catty (about 600 kilos) pig, draped in red and mouth with pin eapple, is used to win the good will of the gods; it also gives passers-by an unusual thrill.
A Look at Relations Between Those Making and Those Receiving Offerings Through the Materials Used as Offerings(picture)
For ancestors or popular folk gods, ordinary goods like Chinese pork stew, meatballs, or dried bean curd are usually used. The photo shows offerings set out for the Dragon Boat Festival.