The Idea of Sacrifice and the Quality of the Sacrifice in Religion
I have long contemplated the idea of sacrifice as a central and unifying theme in the Bible, spanning both Testaments. Here, I will describe it practically, metaphorically, and metaphysically — as a mechanism of being and transformation — something that pertains both to the experience of being alive in general and to specific acts or endeavors.
It is probably not a bad idea to connect these two concepts: sacrifice as a concrete action involving the offering of something valuable (thus defining a hierarchy of importance) and sacrifice as a fundamental experience of existence itself. At least based on my understanding of the Bible, the Old Testament exemplifies this idea through concrete acts of sacrifice, whereas the New Testament presents sacrifice as a way of life and a general norm that provides a fundamental direction for human existence and submission to the will of God.
What Exactly Is Sacrifice, Especially in the Context of the Experience of Being Alive?
There are no self-evident answers to this question, or at the very least, people tend to change their opinions over time as they reflect on it more deeply. When a person acts, their choice is usually based, at least in part, on an intuition about what is more right, better, and — let’s be honest — also more beneficial at that moment. Without intending to insult human intelligence, it can be said that animals act in the same way. Animals are driven by instinct, sensations, and evolutionary programming that dictate their immediate needs. For example, a dog, a highly intelligent animal by animal standards, will consume all the meat given to it, eat until it vomits, and then continue eating. The quantities may be enormous relative to the animal’s body weight. Why? The reason is both anatomical and evolutionary — the dog knows that having meat in its stomach increases its chances of survival more than having meat somewhere else. It is simultaneously driven by limitation, hunger, and the fear of losing food.
What is even more crucial regarding time in the case of a dog — or any other animal — is the absence of the divine spark that allows for moral choices in the sense of self-awareness. An animal does not plan, does not perceive itself in time, and does not communicate with its future self on a level that human consciousness and self-awareness enable. This not only distinguishes animals from humans but also separates the divine from its absence in a broader sense. Thus, the fundamental mechanism of sacrifice is the renunciation of one’s present self for the sake of one’s future self. This is why sacrifice applies to work, relationships, learning, family, and everything else — it is the endurance of present discomfort for the sake of something in the future. Unfortunately, it also involves sacrificing one’s present happiness for the sake of future meaning.
Comparing animals and humans (with and without self-awareness, with or without recognition of God, with or without faith) brings us closer to the practical aspect of sacrifice. Sacrifice, therefore, does not merely mean resisting one’s instincts regarding what seems important in the moment, but rather directing one's behavior in a deliberate manner in every situation, subordinating it to something greater. However, there are two essential aspects to consider when analyzing sacrifice, especially in the context of religion and faith in God: unity and the meaningfulness of life, as well as the avoidance of the greatest possible punishment for oneself and others.
Unity as the Foundation of Sacrifice
The easier-to-understand aspect first—unity. If a person has not defined the meaning and direction of sacrifice for themselves, they act like an animal, driven by constant behavioral fluctuations and unpredictability. An animal reacts to every new impulse in a practically reflexive manner, influenced by fears, sensory perceptions, urges, and needs. In other words, it is fundamentally impossible to make moral demands of an animal, as its nature is to be constantly driven by external circumstances—it is what it is, and the absence of self-awareness as a divine spark is its normal state. Similarly, a person without a clear direction in religious terms is fragmented within, as if consisting of many different parts that become activated chaotically due to external influences.
In the Bible, the Gospel of Mark (Mark 5:1–13) recounts an episode where Jesus encounters a man living among tombs, tormented by spirits. When Jesus asks, "What is your name?" the man responds, "My name is Legion, for we are many." Legion refers to a Roman military unit of thousands of soldiers, symbolizing (at least in my view) the disorder and fragmentation within a person. This story illustrates how someone plagued by a "legion"—inner chaos and multiplicity—cannot control themselves. The man had been cast out of society, lived wildly, and constantly harmed himself. Therefore, sacrifice is the key to replacing inner fragmentation with unity. Even those who have read little of the Bible can generally grasp this idea.
The Quality of Sacrifice and the Avoidance of Suffering
The second aspect of sacrifice, which relates to the meaningfulness of life and the avoidance of suffering, is what differentiates not only humans from animals but also people from one another. What does this mean more precisely? Most people do not deny that life must have direction and purpose —this is easy to agree with. In modern welfare societies, it is practically a given that individuals list values such as honesty, hard work, kindness, caring, family, financial stability, and their children’s future as guiding principles. People often claim to build their lives on these values and to move consistently toward them.
From a conceptual standpoint, such logic is perfectly sound, and challenging it is nearly impossible in the light of both the Bible and moral values in general. However, here we arrive at the most crucial aspect of sacrifice — its quality — meaning, what should actually be sacrificed for the highest-placed value (such as family).
I would like to introduce some flexibility and choice here. A part of me has wished (at least I have tried to think about it this way) that the Bible allows for a "sufficient," or "acceptable," level of sacrifice. Unfortunately, this does not exist — at least not on a religious level. To illustrate this, let’s look at one of the fundamental stories in Genesis. Abel offered God the best of his flock — his firstborn and finest. His sacrifice was sincere and fully devoted. This symbolizes a person's willingness to forgo present comfort and the absolute best in pursuit of something higher. Cain also offered something, but not his best. His sacrifice was neither complete nor sincere. He held something back for himself and did not try hard enough. God rejected his sacrifice, which led to bitterness and rage.
This idea repeats throughout the Bible and culminates in the ultimate sacrifice of the New Testament — the sacrifice of an innocent son by God, the sacrifice of life by Jesus, the conscious raising of a son to be sacrificed by Mary, and so on. Sacrifice must be done correctly, with the best, and completely. This is not a mere background motif of the Bible — it is its core idea in the deepest sense.
Cain’s story most clearly illustrates this, especially in the Gospel of Thomas, saying 70: "If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you." This explicitly states the consequence of a non-total, incomplete sacrifice — self-destruction. What remains unexpressed within a person ultimately destroys them.
Cain’s fate is the best universal warning about human responsibility and the necessity of complete devotion. Living a life of complete sacrifice does not make a person happy (at least not in the distorted sense of happiness in modern welfare societies), but it does lead to a meaningful life —and, just as importantly, it spares one from hell on Earth, meaning hell within oneself.
