Idul Adha: The Feast of the Sacrifice

Disclaimer: This post is about animal sacrifice. While I have not included anything particularly shocking, there are pictures in this post of raw meat and animals about to meet their ultimate demise.

This post also contains information about Islam. In no way do I claim to be an expert on any type of theology or religion, especially not Islam. If I have written anything that you believe to be untrue, please correct me in the comments. I would love to learn more! Happy reading.

You think about a lot of things when you witness the slaughter of a sacrificial cow. Like how strange it is that humans are the only predators on Earth who buy an animal in advance, kill it, package its meat, and store it until they decide to cook it and eat it – how we don’t have claws or razor sharp teeth, but are so frighteningly smart that we don’t need them. It also strikes you that the world is a much harsher place for our four-legged brethren than many Americans like to believe. 

This past weekend Muslims across the world celebrated one of their two “Eid” days: Eid al-Adha, or Idul Adha (Indonesia). It is the Feast of the Sacrifice. Here in Indonesia, thousands of cows and goats are sacrificed.

Waiting…

I asked where the tradition of sacrifice came from, and I was pointed to two beliefs in Islam.

The first will sound very familiar to Christian and Jewish readers. Abraham – the founding father of the three Abrahamic Religions – was asked by God to sacrifice his long-expected and dearly beloved “only” son. As a sign of Abraham’s faith in God, he agreed to undertake the task. But just at the moment when Abraham was about to make good on his commitment, God stopped him and provided a ram to sacrifice instead.

Followers of Islam believe that the spared son was Ishmael – son of Abraham and his wife’s servant Hagar. Judaic tradition, on the other hand, claims that it was Isaac who was spared – technically Abraham’s second son, but born to his wife Sarah. In either case, the story is one of faith, being asked to do hard things, and mercy, and that is what is remembered by Muslims celebrating Idul Adha.

The second belief moves from the early days of Abraham to our final days. As it was explained to me, some Muslims believe that when you die, you must cross a bridge over a sea of fire in order to reach heaven. The journey is long and difficult. If, however, you have sacrificed a cow, goat, or perhaps a camel while you were still among the living, you can ride that animal across the bridge. Basically, a faster, easier mode of transportation for our final journey.

I’m afraid this cow had a very bad day.

But the purpose of the sacrifice in day-to-day life is a bit more concrete and tangible. Idul Adha is an opportunity for Muslims who can afford a goat or cow to give back to their less fortunate brothers and sisters. Families, schools, and mosques often chip in to buy one together. The meat is divided and a portion of it given to neighbors who maybe can’t often afford meat. Meat ranks as one of the most expensive sources of protein here in Indonesia, so it is a valuable gift.

I honestly hadn’t planned on watching any animals being slaughtered. I thought I might just sneak away until the deed was done and then return to watch the division and distribution.

But when I ended up at a neighbor’s house Sunday morning and all the kids were standing there ready to watch, I thought, “I can handle this, too!” What I didn’t take into account was that all those kids had grown up with this tradition and seen it many times before. Standing before a scene that would bring many children in my native land to sobs and tears, these kids were clearly unmoved. When I asked one of the young girls if she had ever watched before, she looked at me with eyes that basically said, “you know nothing” and with her mouth said, “Every year.”

The cow was positioned over a hole so the blood could drain into the ground. See those banana leaves in the background? I would soon discover why it was important to hold them over the cow’s neck…

It just goes to show how much our experience influences the way we view the world. Here I was witnessing a very normal part of our human existence, but a part that is not experienced firsthand by most Americans. It doesn’t change where our food comes from, but it is still rather shocking to see. Without going into detail, I will tell you that – as iron-willed and strong-stomached as I thought I was – at one point I was afraid I might pass out. Thank goodness for those kids who, when the cow was gurgling its last breaths, all turned to me and said, “Miss Kelly!” I don’t know if a look passed across my face or if I had suddenly turned a shade even whiter, but I was touched that something in their child-brains told them that, although it was normal and no big deal for them, I was struggling. We laughed together, and I walked off to sit by myself.

Post Sacrifice

After the cow was really dead, the men and women set to dividing it up. This was also done at my school this morning – where a few goats and a cow were sacrificed – and the meat was cut by the skilled hands of my middle school students. It was weighed, bagged, and distributed to 313 students plus all the teachers at the school. The whole 9th grade class received a bag of meat, and the less financially secure students in 7th and 8th grade also took some home.

Students at work. We even practiced some English like, “The meat is slippery.” “My hands are dirty.” Every experience can be a learning experience.

Checking the numbers and weighing the meat. It was a well organized process.

After getting over the blood and the unrelenting contemplations of death and animals and humans and life, it was actually pretty neat. I may be one big step closer to becoming a vegetarian, but the motivation and the meaning behind the sacrifice of these animals was something special to witness. Families and communities all across the world came together to celebrate faith and mercy, and they came together to help one another.

There are some Americans who donate meals at Thanksgiving or gifts at Christmas, but those have not become integral parts of our traditions. I am by no means advocating for animal sacrifice in mainstream America, but what if we, too, had one day a year when we all gave something back – when we all got together to share time with our families and give to our neighbors?

This weekend made me think about a lot of things, but I want to leave you with two questions. How many people could we help if we were more willing to give back, and what kind of faith would we need to actually do it?