A Great Sacrifice

The story is well known. It has been told and retold by generations of preachers and storytellers and grandmothers all over the Muslim world, especially by this time of the year around 'Īd al-Adha, the Festival of the Sacrifice.

The story is well known far beyond the Muslim world. Far from introducing a new story, the Qur'an reminds of a story people are familiar with, both from earlier revealed scriptures and from the oral tradition by the Children of Ismail and the Children of Israel. The earliest written account, much more in detail, is in the Hebrew Bible, and the story itself goes back all the way to Abraham.

The Qur'anic story is very concise, outlining only some main points that are considered essential. If we turn to the traditions for details, we are confronted with quite a number different versions. Most striking are probably the contradictory references to the identity of that son of Abraham's who figures in the story. This does not just apply to the Bible that identifies him as Isaac while most Muslims today believe that it was Ismail, each religious tradition trying, so to speak, to see its own ancestor in that role. But even in Muslim tradition there are various strands that mention Ismail, Isaac, or even both. Most confusing for those who read the story on the level of a fact account, and even more so since the name has no role in the Qur'anic story itself: the Qur'an is not about history but about a central human experience.

When we ask about the experience as such, we again come across various interpretations, depending on the temperament of the commentator.

If his or her approach is based on fear or awe, the focus is often on a test of obedience. Now while the value of obedience to God's commandments cannot be denied, most commentators are quite aware that the concept is again and again idealized beyond recognition and exploited for the most inhuman purposes by those in power, and with dangerous consequences. Therefore they link it with idea of Abraham's unconditional trust in God and point out that no human being deserves such unquestioned obedience.

If the approach is based on hope, the focus is often on patience. The story is then one of many illustrations of this virtue along with the stories of Jacob, Joseph, Job and many others. Patience is, without doubt, another virtue emphasized in the Qur'an and an important station on the mystical path. Patience is linked with the hope for something better in the future. But is that the reason why this story is considered central enough to be reexperienced in an annual festival?

For mystics, the approach is love. Ibn Arabi gives a detailed explanation of the test designed to establish whether Abraham loves God more than himself as represented in his son. This makes perfect sense to anyone who is familiar with love stories - with the desire to fulfil the Beloved's wish even against oneself, with the cruel game that is sometimes played with a lover to test his or her readiness to give up everything. Since Abraham is Khalīl Allah, God's friend, one might wonder about the other side of the relationship.

Instead of jumping to conclusions, let us have a closer look at the story itself once more, keeping in mind the historical background it refers to. Dreams sometimes have a prophetic quality, therefore it is automatically assumed, both by Abraham, his son and the reader, that this is a divine command to sacrifice the boy. In those days, the idea of human sacrifice was part of certain local fertility cults and therefore not considered as strange and inhuman as it would today. Nevertheless, the Qur'an (as, by the way, the Bible) is silent about the inner emotional struggle Abraham must have gone through, no matter whether his motivating force was the desire to trustingly obey, to have patience and hope for the future in spite of all odds, or the fire of love for God. Nor do we read anything about his son's thoughts or feelings, except that he hopes to be patient enough. The Qur'an is not even explicit about what happens next: And when the two of them had surrendered and (Abraham) had laid him down on his forehead, We called to him, "Abraham! You have already fulfilled the dream." The wording rather reminds of the attitude of islâm, surrender, and ritual prayer where we prostrate ourselves on our foreheads as an expression for our readiness to serve God with confidence, patience and hope as well as for our love. In those days far back in history, the experience was a milestone in spiritual development that, more than any theoretical explanation, demonstrated that God does not want human sacrifice. "And We ransomed him with a great sacrifice." We are told that this was a ram, and that is why a sheep or goat is slaughtered at the Festival of the Sacrifice by those who can afford it.

But oops - what's so great about a ram? Considering the fact that in the time of the Qur'an the compensation for unintentionally killing a person was a hundred camels, this sounds like "small change". The meat is then shared between the poor, neighbours and friends, and one's own family. It contributes to the feeding of the poor, the promotion of joy and the solidarity in the community that commemorates its ancestors' experience in this ritual. What makes the sacrifice "great" is not its material value but its meaning.

Unlike certain idols, even modern ones, God does not want human sacrifice. He does not want anyone to die in a meaningless way, not even an animal's life to be wasted. Whether it is from a sense of obedience, the hope for future bliss or the passion of love, God does not want us to throw ourselves into the flame of destruction but to live and spread the light of life, love and joy as true heirs of Abraham, God's Friend.

My prayer and my sacrifice and my life and my death are for God, the Creator and Sustainer of the worlds who has no one beside Him. This is what I was enjoined, and I am the first one to surrender. (6:162-163)

Our Creator and Sustainer, accept from us (our prayers and actions). You are the Hearing, the Knowing. Our Creator and Sustainer, make us people who surrender to You and let there be, among our future generations, people who surrender to You, and show us our acts of worship and turn to us. You are the One Who Turns and Accepts Return, the Merciful. (2:127-128)

(c) Halima Krausen, 2005