Why Sacrifice?—Early Confucianism’s Reinterpretation of Sacrificial Rites and Human–Guishen (鬼神, Spirits and Deities) Relations Through Qing (情, Sentiment)

Abstract

This paper examines how early Confucianism reinterpreted sacrificial rites and reconstructed the relationship between humans and spirits through the lens of qing (情, sentiment). Traditional scholarship often views the Confucian reinterpretation of sacrifice as a shift from religious belief to a human-centered framework of rationality, morality, and humanism—emphasizing its role in moral education and social governance and thereby marginalizing or even denying the existence of guishen (鬼神, spirits and deities) and the transcendent realm they represent. Although some scholars have emphasized the religious dimensions of Confucianism, few have addressed how Confucians managed to affirm the existence of spirits while simultaneously endowing sacrificial rites with moral and humanistic meaning—that is, how they navigated the inherent tension between the human and the divine realms. Against this background, this study argues that early Confucians neither denied the existence of spirits nor reduced sacrifice to a purely ethical or political instrument. By contrast, they regarded human sentiment as the universal foundation of sacrificial practice and, through a profound and creative transformation, redirected the meaning of sacrifice toward the human world (rendao 人道), thereby establishing a new model of human–divine relations—one that affirms human agency and dignity while preserving the sanctity of the spiritual. Drawing on close readings of classical Confucian texts such as The Analects, The Book of Rites, and Xunzi, this paper identifies three core dimensions of sacrificial sentiment: remembrance, gratitude, and reverence and awe. Together, these sentiments form a relational structure between humans and guishen that enables communication and interaction while maintaining clear boundaries. In this way, Confucian sacrificial rites become a space for emotional expression without degenerating into a “carnival of emotions” or transgressing the proper separation between the human and the divine. Confucian sacrificial thought thus affirms human dignity and moral agency while upholding the transcendence of the sacred.

1. Introduction

Sacrificial Rites (jisi 祭祀) were a central component of religious thought and practice in ancient China, serving as a vital means of communication between ren (人, humans) and guishen (鬼神, spirits and deities). The term guishen encompasses various sacred and supernatural forces, including Heaven (tian 天), the Lord on High (shangdi 上帝), nature gods, and ancestral spirits, among others, all of which together constitute the transcendent realm1. By contrast, humans belong to the tangible, earthly world. The relationship between these two realms lies at the heart of ancient sacrificial beliefs and practices.

Pre-Qin Confucians placed great emphasis on sacrificial rites2, as reflected in classical texts. The Liji 礼记 (the Book of Rites) states, “Sacrifices are the foundation of cultivation” (祭者，教之本也), while the Zuo Zhuan左传 (Commentary of Zuo) asserts, “The great affairs of a state lie in sacrifice and warfare” (国之大事，在祀与戎). However, since the early period of modern Chinese scholarship, a significant number of scholars have tended to interpret the Confucian reinterpretation of sacrificial rituals during the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods through the lens of “rationality, humanism, and morality.” They argue that Confucianism reinterpreted sacrificial practices by stripping them of their religious elements, thereby marginalizing the supernatural realm of spirits and deities while emphasizing the moral and political functions of sacrifice. This interpretive framework has profoundly shaped the orientation of contemporary academic research. Whether consciously or unconsciously, many scholars have further downplayed themes in early Confucian thought related to sacrifice and religion, tending instead to focus on what they regard as the “rational and ethical aspects” of Confucianism (Zufferey 2003, p. 151).

To better understand the underlying trends in contemporary research, it is helpful to revisit the views of several representative scholars who laid the groundwork for twentieth-century research on Chinese philosophy. For instance, Feng Youlan 冯友兰 explicitly claimed that early Confucians endowed sacrificial rites with a new meaning—one that removed the “superstition and mythological elements” from funeral and sacrificial rituals, transforming their religious components into poetic expression. He thus concluded that the significance of sacrifice was “purely poetic, rather than religious” (Feng 1989, p. 137). Similarly, Liang Shuming 梁漱溟 explained early Confucian understandings of religion and sacrificial rites through the concepts of morality and rationality. He proposed that, since the time of the Zhou dynasty and Confucius, Chinese civilization had followed a trajectory of “replacing religion with morality” (以道德代宗教). Liang notably went so far as to describe Confucius as “the most powerful adversary of religion” (Liang 2005, p. 107), arguing that he actively rejected religious superstition and dogma in favor of human rationality. He equated this rationality with morality, stating, “Morality is a matter of reason, rooted in individual self-awareness and self-discipline. Religion, on the other hand, is a matter of faith, dependent on the believer’s adherence to religious commandments. Since the time of Confucius, China has followed his influence and embarked on the path of replacing religion with morality” (Liang 2005, p. 108). In this framework, sacrificial rituals, including their ceremonial rites and texts, were understood primarily as instruments of moral cultivation and rational self-discipline. Xu Fuguan 徐复观 took an even more direct stance than Liang Shuming 梁漱溟, arguing that the decline of religion in early China and the rise of humanistic thought was marked by an increasing emphasis on moral significance within sacrificial practices (Xu 2013, p. 40). He summarized the transformation of li (礼, ritual) as follows: in the era of Shijing诗经 (Book of Songs), li was an expression of culture and civilization, but by the Spring and Autumn period, li had come to signify culture itself. According to Xu, by this time, li had “entirely lost its religious significance” (Xu 2013, p. 43), evolving instead into a purely moral concept. The religious dimension of ritual had thus been transformed into a “humanistic form of religion” (Xu 2013, p. 46), with sacrifice reduced to a ceremonial expression of human culture.

Broadly speaking, most researchers have focused on key concepts such as rationality, morality, and humanism3, arguing that early Confucians fundamentally redefined sacrificial practices by removing their mystical or supernatural elements. In this view, sacrifice was no longer centered on serving the spirits and deities (shi shen 事神) but was instead transformed into a means of constructing human ethical order and promoting moral education, yet the underlying assumption of this interpretation is that the supernatural realm of spirits and deities within the sacrificial context had effectively vanished—that it was merely a cultural construct within the human imagination.

It is worth noting that, while there is a substantial body of research on Pre-Qin Confucian thought in mainland China, philosophical or ideological discussions surrounding “religion” and “sacrifice” remain comparatively underexplored, a tendency that has become increasingly pronounced in recent years4. Among the few studies that address these topics, Chen Lai 陈来, in The World of Ancient Thought and Culture, specifically analyzes the belief in spirits and sacrificial practices during the Spring and Autumn period. However, the focus of his analysis is primarily on how the concept of sacrifice evolved toward ethical and moral dimensions (see L. Chen 2022, pp. 105–76). Overall, the dominant trajectory of contemporary mainland Chinese scholarship largely continues the foundational direction established by twentieth-century thinkers: stripping Confucian thought of its religious dimension and recasting it in terms of “morality,” “politics,” “rationality,” “education,” or “ethics,” thereby constructing its identity as a “philosophy.” Within this established framework, successive generations of scholars have consciously continued this task, increasingly portraying Confucianism as a philosophy centered on rationality and morality, while neglecting its complex religious tensions. One scholar has even explicitly argued that “the concept of Tian in Pre-Qin Confucianism should not be interpreted religiously” (Z. Yang 2025), thereby further weakening, on a theoretical level, the potential connection between Confucian thought and the sacred.

This research orientation is not limited to mainland China; it has also exerted considerable influence in international Confucian studies. In many leading English-language journals, discussions of Confucian thought frequently center around keywords such as “morality,” “rationality,” and “ethics.” In this broader academic context, the religious dimension of Pre-Qin Confucianism has been increasingly diminished, while its deeper theoretical engagement with the sacred world and the structure of human–guishen relations has been progressively marginalized.5

If we accept the view of earlier scholarship that Pre-Qin Confucians transformed sacrificial rituals into a means of moral cultivation and social education, then a natural question arises: This interpretation merely establishes the legitimacy of sacrifice as a method, rather than its universality. After all, moral cultivation and political instruction can be achieved through numerous other means—why, then, should sacrifice be uniquely indispensable? If Confucians positioned rituals (with sacrifice at their core) as a universal mode of human existence and social order, what precisely constitutes their universality? Why did Confucians attribute such fundamental importance to sacrificial rites?

I argue that much of the existing scholarship has largely overlooked these critical issues. One of the primary reasons for this oversight is a flawed logical premise underlying many of these studies—namely, the implicit rejection of a crucial element in the Confucian conception of human–divine relations: the supernatural realm of spirits and deities (guishen, 鬼神).

It is truly difficult to believe that Pre-Qin Confucians would advocate for constructing the ethical order and political education of the real world upon a merely “imaginary” or “illusory” realm. Does humanity really need to negate the existence of the other in order to affirm itself and establish order? An examination of Confucian texts from this period reveals an abundance of references to sacrificial rituals and spirits and deities, demonstrating that Pre-Qin Confucians not only did not deny the existence of the supernatural realm but also engaged deeply with deities and possessed a nuanced understanding of the relationship between humans and the divine.

It is important to note, however, that not all scholars have adopted the “de-religionized” approach described above. Some have instead affirmed the sacred dimension inherent in Chinese thought. For example, from a macro-historical perspective on Chinese religious history, Huang Jinxing 黄进兴 examines the developmental trajectories of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism in ancient China, arguing that Confucianism indeed possesses a religious dimension. He explicitly opposes the tendency among some contemporary New Confucian scholars to “reduce traditional Confucianism to a purely speculative philosophy” (Huang 2005, p. 143). A similar view has been advanced by Fu Peirong 傅佩荣, who argues that “the distinctive character of Chinese philosophy lies not merely in humanism, but in an open humanism—one that remains open to transcendence… Such a transcendent realm is by no means a mere ‘hypothesis’” (Fu 2010, p. 1)6. Similarly, Benjamin Schwartz noted that “Chinese thought has never seriously attempted to carry out the disenchantment of the world” (Schwartz 1975, p. 59). Herbert Fingarette, in his seminal work Confucius: The Secular as Sacred, likewise contended that ritual (li) implicitly contains “magical and religious dimensions” (Fingarette 1972, p. 2). Indeed, many scholars acknowledge the presence of a supernatural dimension in early Chinese thought and have offered valuable insights into sacrificial practices and human–guishen interaction. However, while such studies have, to some extent, restored the theoretical significance of the sacred, they still generally fall short of offering a sustained and systematic account of how classical thinkers—especially Pre-Qin Confucians—reinterpreted the meaning of sacrifice. More fundamentally, they rarely address how these thinkers reshaped the structure of human–guishen relations while affirming the continued existence of a spiritual realm.

Some scholars have focused on the mechanisms of interaction and communication between humans and guishen, approaching the issue from either the perspective of individual cultivation or the broader level of sacrificial practice. Michael Puett, for example, centers his analysis on how individuals engage in cultivation and self-divinization. In To Become a God: Cosmology, Sacrifice, and Self-Divinization in Early China (Puett 2002), he demonstrates how early Chinese thought envisioned the individual as extending or sustaining the sacred through ritual practice. What Puett emphasizes is the individual’s quest to transcend the boundary between the human and the divine—not how Pre-Qin Confucians systematically reconstructed the structure of human–guishen relations. Roel Sterckx has also paid close attention to sacrificial practices and the ways in which humans engage with spiritual beings. However, his research focuses more specifically on the operational question of how to elicit the presence of deities. He emphasizes the key role of various ritual media—such as offerings, dance, music, and the spirit tablet—in facilitating divine presence during sacrificial ceremonies. His primary concern lies in the mechanisms and conditions that make such presence possible, rather than in why Confucians sacrificed to guishen, or how they philosophically reconfigured the underlying logic of human–guishen relations (see Sterckx 2007)7.

Other scholars have approached ancient Chinese sacrificial practices from the perspective of institutional and political structures. In The Rite, the Norm and the Dao: Philosophy of Sacrifice and Transcendence of Power in Ancient China, Jean Levi analyzes how sacrificial rites helped shape hierarchies and power relations in early China. He famously argues that “the ritual of sacrifice at once marks the communion between and the separation of humans and gods” (Levi 2009, p. 653). Levi also distinguishes Tian (天, Heaven) from ancestral spirits to reveal the hierarchical order among different types of divine beings. Nonetheless, his core concern lies in the institutional transformation from sacrifice to political authority, with his discussion of human–guishen relations serving more as a theoretical backdrop than as a central object of analysis.

Renowned sociologist Émile Durkheim and sinologist Marcel Granet both emphasized the central role of sentiment as a primal driving force in religious rituals—a view that offers valuable insights for the present study. However, their focus lay primarily on the cathartic function of ritual and the release of collective sentiment. They did not fully explore the complexity of sentiment itself, nor its role in shaping human–guishen relations, thus leaving space for further inquiry. Building on the foundational insights of Durkheim and Granet, many scholars have examined the emotional foundations of sacrificial practice and explored how sentiment operates within human–guishen dynamics, yet these discussions often remain underdeveloped. In Sacrifice and the Imperial Cult of Confucius, Thomas A. Wilson examines the imperial rituals of Confucius worship from a sociological perspective, offering a detailed analysis of the practical content, symbolic significance, and sentimental basis of sacrificial practice (see Wilson 2002). Notably, he identifies inner sentiments such as filial devotion (xiao 孝) and reverence (jing 敬) as crucial to structuring interactions between humans and guishen (鬼神). Echoing this line of inquiry, in another study titled Spirits and the Soul in Confucian Ritual Discourse, Wilson turns to the larger corpus of canonical Confucian works and the commentarial tradition. Through a close reading of texts such as the Analects and the Book of Rites, as well as classical commentaries and critical essays by figures like Kong Yingda 孔颖达 and Zhu Xi 朱熹, he further emphasizes the central role of inner dispositions—including integrity of will, inner reverence, and piety—in enabling communion with the spirits (see Wilson 2014). His work thus offers important clues and more fine-grained textual support for reinterpreting the sentimental basis of Confucian sacrificial thought. Similarly, Csikszentmihalyi highlights the importance of reverence (jing 敬) and awe (wei 畏)—as inner dispositions of the ritual performer—for the efficacy of sacrificial rites, although he frames these as “attitudes” rather than sentiments (see Csikszentmihalyi 2009). Philip J. Ivanhoe also notes that “the important thing in sacrifice was an attitude of reverence on the part of those participating” (Ivanhoe 2007, p. 215). Despite the growing recognition of the internal basis behind sacrificial action8, existing scholarship has yet to provide a systematic account of sentiment (qing 情) as an independent analytical category and has particularly failed to offer any in-depth analysis of the complex internal structure of qing itself. Nor has it fully considered its potential theoretical significance in the Pre-Qin Confucian context.

Taken as a whole, these studies—whether focusing on individual cultivation, ritual practice, institutional structures, or affective foundations—have collectively deepened our understanding of ancient Chinese sacrificial traditions and human–guishen (鬼神) relations. They also share the important insight that Pre-Qin Confucianism did retain a sacred dimension, thereby challenging the reductive “de-religionized” interpretations. Nevertheless, their shared theoretical limitation lies in the lack of sustained engagement with a central question: How did early Confucians, while acknowledging the existence of the spirit world, reinterpret the meaning of sacrifice and construct a structure of human–guishen (鬼神) relations that enables both communion and differentiation—sustaining the sacred while simultaneously affirming a distinctively human ethical order? In other words, the issue is not simply whether the existence of guishen or a sacred realm is affirmed but rather how Confucians navigated the tension between the human and the divine and how this tension served as the basis for redefining the fundamental meaning and legitimacy of sacrificial practice.

This is not to deny the broader trajectory of early Chinese thought, which underwent a shift from “primitive religious beliefs toward a more human-centered worldview” (Xu 2013, p. 46), nor do we reject the notion that Pre-Qin Confucians creatively reinterpreted sacrificial rites. However, if we approach this transformation solely through the lens of “rationality,” “morality,” or “humanism”—thereby stripping Confucian sacrificial thought of its engagement with the supernatural—then we risk introducing a significant methodological flaw into our analysis. If we assume from the outset that the Confucian reinterpretation of sacrifice was premised on denying the existence of the guishen realm, then such a research trajectory not only risks underestimating the internal complexity and tensions within Confucian thought but also risks obscuring the theoretical work that Confucians themselves undertook in reconfiguring sacrifice and human–guishen relations. Even within studies that emphasize the religious or sacred dimensions of early Chinese thought, one crucial question remains insufficiently addressed: How did Pre-Qin Confucians—while affirming the existence of the guishen realm—simultaneously imbue sacrificial practice with moral and humanistic meaning? Within this tension, how did Pre-Qin Confucians perceive sacrificial rites? What were their reasons for performing them? How did the reinterpretation of these rituals lead to a transformation in the relationship between humans and the divine?

Based on a critical review of existing scholarship and a close reading of key Pre-Qin Confucian texts, I propose a central claim: sentiment (qing, 情) played a crucial role in the early Chinese religious thought and sacrificial practice. The Pre-Qin Confucians reshaped traditional sacrificial concepts by placing human sentiment (renqing, 人情) at the core of their reinterpretation. To avoid terminological ambiguity, it is necessary to clarify how the term “sentiment” (qing, 情) is used in this paper. In the Pre-Qin Confucian context, qing encompasses multiple layers of meaning. Broadly speaking, it may refer to innate human desires, emotional or physiological responses, subjective personal feelings toward specific things or persons, or even the affectionate bonds between individuals. More specifically, within the sacrificial context, qing refers primarily to the natural emotional responses one experiences when facing guishen (鬼神, spirits and deities)—including ancestors, Heaven, and other sacred presences. It is the resonance and response of the individual’s inner life when confronted with the sacred realm.

This paper further refines qing into three primary affective dimensions: remembrance, gratitude, and reverence/awe. These sentiments are not discrete or mutually exclusive; rather, they are interwoven in sacrificial practice and together constitute the core foundation upon which Confucianism redefined both the legitimacy of sacrifice and the structure of human–guishen (鬼神) relations. It is precisely in this sense that, when examining the Confucian understanding of sacrifice and the human–spirit relationship, I do not follow the conventional research paradigm that interprets this transition through the lenses of rationality, morality, or humanism. My approach, however, shifts the focus to what I see as the most fundamental driving force behind sacrificial practice—sentiment. Rather than reiterating the well-established argument that Confucian sacrificial rites functioned as an instrument of moral and political education, I emphasize that the universal foundation of sacrifice itself was rooted in human sentiment.9

From this perspective, this study argues that the Pre-Qin Confucians, by placing human sentiment at the core of sacrifice, profoundly and creatively transformed traditional sacrificial practices. They shifted the focus of religious and sacrificial activities toward the human world (rendao, 人道) in the present life, thereby reconstructing the relationship between humans and the guishen. This transformation neither negated the existence of the guishen realm nor entirely desacralized sacrificial practices but affirmed human agency and dignity within the sacrificial framework10.

The following discussion will examine how the Pre-Qin Confucians reinterpreted sacrificial rites through the lens of sentiment reshaping sacrificial practices while further redefining the human–divine relationship in early Confucian thought.

2. From Divine Dominance to Human Agency: Confucius’ Reconstruction of Sacrificial Rites

It is well known that although the sacrificial systems of the Shang and Zhou dynasties differed in their concrete forms, scholars such as Chen Mengjia 陈梦家, Guo Moruo 郭沫若, and Zhang Guangzhi 张光直 have pointed out that the Zhou people, while inheriting the Shang tradition, gradually moved toward a more human-centered sacrificial system. This system not only retained the Shang dynasty’s reverence for Shangdi 上帝, ancestral spirits, and various nature deities but also incorporated ethical and moral significance through its doctrines of the Mandate of Heaven (tianming, 天命) and the establishment of ritual and music (zhilizuoyue, 制礼作乐), yet despite these shifts, the fundamental structure of sacrificial practices in the Shang and Zhou periods still followed the traditional model of “ancestor worship and spirit veneration” (Zheng 2019), emphasizing the role of rituals in facilitating communication between humans and spirits. Within this framework, “the world was largely divided into two domains” (M. Chen 2016, p. 51): the world of the living (shengren 生人), that is, the tangible reality of human existence, and the world of spirits and deities (guishen, 鬼神) (Zhang 2013, p. 289), an unseen supernatural realm encompassing ancestors, heavenly deities, and nature gods. These two realms were closely linked through sacrificial rituals: humans sought blessings by venerating the spirits, while the spirits were perceived as the ultimate arbiters of human fate.

With the rise of the era of the Hundred Schools of Thought during the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods, however, Confucius and later Confucians reinterpreted sacrificial rites in ways that significantly deviated from the traditional framework. While Confucius’ perspective on sacrifice was built upon inherited traditions, it also introduced profoundly subversive elements. As the founder of Confucian thought, Confucius’ brief remarks on sacrifice are often misinterpreted as attempts to eliminate the supernatural realm. For instance, statements such as “Respect the gods and spirits but keep them at a distance” (jing guishen er yuan zhi, 敬鬼神而远之), “When you don’t yet know how to serve human beings, how can you serve the spirits?” (wei neng shi ren, yan neng shi gui? 未能事人，焉能事鬼？), and “The Master did not speak of prodigies, force, disorder, and spirits” (zi bu yu guaili luanshen 子不语怪力乱神) have frequently been read as signs of Confucius’ skepticism or estrangement from the world of spirits. For example, building on such interpretations, Feng Youlan 冯友兰 argues that “Confucius already held a skeptical attitude toward the existence of spirits” (Feng 2014, p. 49) and that “he was strongly disbelieving of such beliefs” (Feng 2014, p. 78). Lao Siguang 劳思光 similarly suggests that Confucius placed little importance on traditional beliefs in spirits, asserting that Confucius did not believe there was in fact a “spirit” objectively present to receive the offerings. If such a being did not exist, Lao contends, then sacrifice merely functioned as a formal human ritual (Lao 2005, p. 103). Xu Fuguan 徐复观 likewise contends that the Analects reflects an attitude of “deliberate agnosticism” toward guishen. He argues that the sacrificial scenes recorded in the text are purely expressions of Confucius’ own virtues of sincerity, reverence, and benevolence (Xu 2013, p. 75). Indeed, influenced by such interpretations, many scholars argue that Confucian sacrificial rites were merely tools for promoting moral education and maintaining social order, with the supernatural realm considered nonexistent.

Did Confucius truly deny the existence of spirits? What was distinctive about his reinterpretation of sacrifice? In the following analysis, I will examine key textual sources, first exploring Confucius’ engagement with guishen (鬼神, spirits and deities) in sacrificial contexts to explore how he redefined the structure of human–guishen relations and the meaning of sacrifice11. I will then turn to his references to Tian (天, Heaven) to reveal a deeper dimension of his religious consciousness.

i. 

“Respect the Gods and Spirits but Keep Them at a Distance” (敬鬼神而远之): Defining the Boundaries Between Humans and Spirits

In The Analects of Confucius, Confucius states:

Respect the gods and spirits but keep them at a distance—this can be called wisdom

(Watson 2007, p. 45).

敬鬼神而远之，可谓知矣

This passage has sparked considerable debate among later scholars, many of whom tend to overemphasize the phrase yuan zhi (远之 keep them at a distance), interpreting it as a call to distance oneself from spirits—as in the readings of Yang Bojun 杨伯峻 and Li Zehou 李泽厚, who both take “yuan zhi” to mean “estrangement” (B. Yang 2006, p. 69; Li 2019, p. 113)—or even as evidence of Confucius’ denial of the existence of the supernatural realm, as maintained by figures such as Feng Youlan 冯友兰 and Lao Siguang 劳思光.

However, a joint reading of jing (敬, respect) and yuan (远, distance) reveals a far more nuanced stance. In fact, Confucius did not deny the existence of spirits and deities but instead sought to delineate the boundaries between humans and the supernatural, discouraging people from viewing spirits as the dominant force in their daily lives, as was common during the Shang and Zhou periods.

In this statement, jing 敬 conveys reverence and respect, affirming Confucius’ acknowledgment of the spirit world. The term yuan 远, in this context, does not imply outright rejection but instead signifies the avoidance of desecration, irreverence, or excessive reliance on spirits and deities. In other words, Confucius’ call to “Respect the gods and spirits but keep them at a distance” “does not imply denial or skepticism toward spirits” (Fu 2012, p. 236) and does not advocate for the exclusion of spirits but rather urges individuals to maintain an appropriate balance—one that upholds reverence while avoiding undue dependence on supernatural forces.

From a broader perspective, this principle represents an adjustment to the human–spirit relationship inherited from the Shang and Zhou dynasties. Confucius sought to guide people toward a different way of engaging with spirits and deities, discouraging them from constantly seeking divine intervention for blessings or protection from misfortune. Rather than shifting responsibility for their lives onto an unknowable supernatural force or surrendering their personal existence to unseen and intangible spirits and deities, he encouraged individuals to face reality directly and to establish their own agency in the real world.

In this way, “Respect the gods and spirits but keep them at a distance” encapsulates Confucius’ attempt to balance the tension in the human–spirit relationship. As Confucius himself suggests, true wisdom (zhi 智) lies in maintaining reverence while simultaneously preserving proper boundaries—neither desecrating nor blindly worshipping spirits but rather ensuring a respectful yet independent stance toward the supernatural (敬鬼神而远之，可谓知矣).

ii. 

“When You Don’t Yet Know How to Serve Human Beings, How Can You Serve the Spirits?” (未能事人，焉能事鬼): Reinterpreting the Meaning of Serving Spirits

If “Respect the gods and spirits but keep them at a distance” focuses on Confucius’ delineation of boundaries between humans and spirits, then the passage from The Analects of Confucius Xian Jin (先进篇) in which Ji Lu季路 inquires about serving spirits further illustrates the connection and continuity between humans and spirits. In this exchange, Confucius offers a subtle reinterpretation of serving spirits (shi gui 事鬼), reorienting the rationale of sacrificial practice from serving spirits to obtain blessings (shi shen zhi fu 事神致福) to serving spirits through serving humans (shi ren ji shi shen 事人即事神). In doing so, he infuses the act of serving spirits with ethical meaning grounded in human life, thereby establishing a sacrificial framework centered on human agency and ethical practice within the real world. Let us examine this transformation in detail:

Jilu asked how one should serve the gods and spirits.

The Master said, When you don’t yet know how to serve human beings, how can you serve the spirits?

Jilu said, May I venture to ask about death?

The Master said, When you don’t yet understand life, how can you understand death?

(Watson 2007, p. 73)

(季路问事鬼神。子曰：”未能事人，焉能事鬼？”敢问死。曰：”未知生，焉知死？”)

Many scholars interpret this passage as evidence that Confucius dismissed or devalued the spirit world. Some even argue that he avoided addressing supernatural matters altogether, portraying him as an early atheist. For example, Cheng Shude 程树德 explicitly claimed that Confucius advocated not serving spirits precisely because he did not believe in their existence. A closer examination of historical commentaries and relevant texts, however, reveals that Confucius did not reject the existence of spirits and deities outright but instead reconstructed the foundational logic of “serving spirits” (shi shen 事神). What he rejected was not sacrificial ritual itself, but rather the practice of treating sacrifice as a means to “flatter the spirits or curry favor with them” (Slingerland 2003, p. 198) with the goal of securing blessings in return.

During the Shang and Zhou periods, the fundamental logic of sacrificial rites was rooted in serving spirits to obtain blessings. In this paradigm, humans were subordinate to spirits, acting as passive participants who conducted rituals and made offerings to fulfill the spirits’ needs. The focus of sacrificial practices was on the supernatural realm rather than the human world. Confucius, however, fundamentally reoriented this traditional perspective. Instead of simply prescribing how one should serve spirits, he shifted the emphasis to serving humans as the means of serving spirits (事人即事神). To serve humans means to fulfill one’s ethical and moral obligations in the real world, to act with sincerity, and to uphold human relationships with integrity. In this view, such ethical and moral practice itself constitutes the true form of serving spirits. As Zhu Xi 朱熹 (1130 CE–1200 CE) later summarized, “To the extent that one fulfills the way of serving humans, one fulfills the way of serving spirits (尽事人之道，则尽事鬼之道)” (X. Zhu 1983, p. 125).

With this shift, Confucius’ statement “When you don’t yet know how to serve human beings, how can you serve the spirits?” fundamentally restructured the relationship between humans, the real world, and the spirit world. In the worldview of the Shang and Zhou dynasties, humans were subordinate to spirits, and the significance of the human world was defined in relation to the needs of spirits. Confucius, however, by asserting that serving humans is serving spirits, transferred the agency of sacrificial rituals from the supernatural realm to human beings. The human world was no longer defined as secondary to the spirit world. In other words, humans were no longer passive participants in rituals but became active agents in their own right.

In this way, while Confucius did not abolish ritual practices, he shifted the foundational legitimacy of sacrifice from the will of the spirits to the moral and practical human engagement.

Still, this does not mean that Confucius abandoned the traditional practice of serving spirits. It is important to note that Confucius did not reject the practice of shi gui (事鬼, serving the spirits); on the contrary, he affirmed its value, provided it was grounded in genuine filial sentiment and ethical conduct. As recorded in the Analects (“Taibo” 泰伯chapter), Confucius stated the following: “I can find no fault with Yu. Sparing in his food and drink, he yet served the spirits and gods with utmost filial devotion” (Watson 2007, p. 57). This remark not only expresses Confucius’s high praise for Yu’s devotion (zhi xiao, 致孝) to the guishen but also underscores his affirmation of the importance of shi gui. However, this affirmation is conditional upon the presence of xiao (孝, filiality)—both as a natural outpouring of familial sentiment and as an ethical practice that sustains social and moral order.

As seen in multiple passages from the Analects and the Liji 礼记, Confucius did not reject sacrificial practices; on the contrary, he is described as “profoundly committed to reverent services of gods and spirits” (Wilson 2014, p. 208). What he emphasized, however, was that genuine sacrificial meaning must “come from within the heart of the filial and the pious” (Wilson 2002, p. 276) and should never be detached from concrete moral engagement and “ethical obligations” (Van Norden 2011, p. 21) in the human world. As Roger Ames notes, Confucius’s sense of religiousness is not characterized by mystical worship but rather by having “lived a morally meaningful life” (Ames 2023, p. 387). In this light, Confucius did not negate shi gui but rather subsumed it under the broader practice of shi ren (事人, serving human beings), thereby shifting the core of sacrificial practice away from appeasing the divine and toward fulfilling ethical responsibilities in the lived reality of human relationships.

iii. 

“Sacrifice as If They Were Present Means to Sacrifice as If The Gods Were Present” (祭如在，祭神如神在): Connecting with Spirits and Deities Through One’s Inner Life

In the previous sections, we explored how Confucius established boundaries between humans and spirits through “Respect the gods and spirits but keep them at a distance” and redefined the concept of serving spirits through “When you don’t yet know how to serve human beings, how can you serve the spirits?”—thus shifting the focus of sacrificial rituals from the spirit world to the tangible reality of the human world and the concrete practices of living individuals. Confucius’ understanding of sacrificial practice extended beyond this point. With the statement “Sacrifice as if they were present means to sacrifice as if the gods were present,” he further rooted the meaning of ritual in the inner life of individuals, emphasizing the importance of sincerity (cheng 诚) and reverence (jing 敬). This perspective internalized the basis of ritual, shifting its significance from external practice to the sacrificer’s Inner disposition.

The Analects (Ba You 八佾) records:

Sacrifice as if they were present means to sacrifice as if the gods were present.

But the Master said, If I can’t take part in the sacrifices, it’s as though I haven’t sacrificed at all

(Watson 2007, p. 28).

祭如在，祭神如神在。子曰：“吾不与祭，如不祭。”

Many contemporary scholars interpret the character ru (如, “as if”) in ji ru zai (祭如在, “sacrifice as if they were present”) as evidence that Confucius did not believe in the existence of guishen, or that their existence was ultimately of no significance to him. However, this interpretation overlooks a crucial dimension of Confucius’ thought: human sentiment (qing, 情). The ru in ru shen zai (如神在, “as if the gods were present”) should not be understood as an expression of doubt, symbolism, or hypothetical thinking. Rather, it expresses an imperative: one ought to perform the sacrificial act with deep inner sentiment, confronting and resonating with the intangible and untouchable guishen as though they were truly visible and tangible.

It is important to recognize that guishen are not understood as physical entities perceivable through human sensory experience—what we might call, in contemporary terms, “corporeal or material beings.” They are invisible and intangible; they do not possess a “physical form” (Gardner 1995, p. 609), yet they exist—not as “non-being,” but in a mode that transcends sensory perception. At the same time, human sentiments toward the deceased are genuine and profound. It is precisely these sentiments that, in the act of sacrifice, allow individuals to affirm the presence of the unseen and untouchable guishen as truly present, thereby achieving a form of resonant communion with them—a connection that bridges the visible and the invisible.

Therefore, what concerned Confucius was not the question of whether spirits exist, but rather how communication between humans and guishen is possible. The key to the phrase ji ru zai (祭如在, “sacrifice as if they were present”) is not primarily about affirming or denying the presence of spirits, but about “establishing contact with spirits” (Wilson 2014, p. 204) through one’s genuine inner sentiment. In this regard, Zhu Xi 朱熹 insightfully summarized this passage as expressing Confucius’ “sincerity in sacrificial rites” (祭祀之诚意) (X. Zhu 1983, p. 64)—that is, one must approach sacrificial rituals with genuine sentiment. It is this very emotional sincerity that establishes a meaningful connection between humans and the spirit world.

In the Shang and Zhou periods, the basis of sacrificial rites was grounded in the desires of spirits and deities. People believed that only by conducting elaborate rites and presenting abundant offerings could they satisfy the spirits’ needs and establish communication with them. Confucius’ statement “Sacrifice as if they were present”, however, introduces a different perspective: rather than placing spirits and deities at the center of sacrificial practice, Confucius shifted the focus to human sentiment as the core element of ritual. This transformation not only altered the value structure of sacrificial rites but also redefined the fundamental orientation of the human–guishen (鬼神) relationship. This idea is echoed in Confucius’ response when asked about the basics of ritual:

Lin Fang asked what is basic in ritual.

The Master said, A big question indeed! In rites in general, rather than extravagance, better frugality. In funeral rites, rather than thoroughness, better real grief

(Watson 2007, p. 26).

林放问礼之本。子曰：”大哉问！礼，与其奢也宁俭；丧，与其易也，宁戚。”

With this shift, the foundation of sacrificial practice moved away from focusing on the will of guishen, the grandeur of the rites, or the abundance of offerings. Instead, it became rooted in the internal life of the sacrificer. Accordingly, the human–spirit relationship also underwent a fundamental transformation. What became central was no longer the will of spirits and deities, but human beings—particularly the sentiments of sincerity (cheng 诚) and reverence (jing 敬).

iv. 

Confucius’ Reverence for Tian (天Heaven)

In the preceding analysis, we examined key passages from the Analects within the context of sacrificial practices, in order to highlight Confucius’ reinterpretation of ritual behavior and the restructuring of human–guishen relations. The term guishen in these contexts primarily refers to ancestral spirits and nature deities.

Within the sacrificial discourse of the Analects, if guishen are presences that must be addressed and resonated with through concrete ritual acts, then Tian (天, Heaven) belongs to a much higher level of supernatural existence. There were no ritual arrangements for individuals to directly offer sacrifices to Tian—the rite of sacrificing to Heaven (ji tian 祭天) was reserved exclusively for the Son of Heaven (the emperor). Tian was neither part of the kinship or ancestral system nor within the cycle of life and death but instead “beyond the cycle of life and death” (Levi 2009, p. 655). Therefore, the relationship between Confucius and Tian—or more broadly, the relationship between human beings and Tian—was not manifested through offerings or sacrificial rites but rather through the individual’s “everyday practice of ritual forms” (Eno 1990, p. 85) and processes of self-cultivation.

As Yu Yingshi 余英时 rightly pointed out, “It is exceedingly difficult to define Confucius’ concept of Tian (Heaven) with any certainty” (Yu 2014, p. 143). Roger Ames similarly remarks, “Confucius is profoundly vague himself when he refers to terms such as Tian 天 that are already in themselves vague references” (Ames 2023, p. 388). Indeed, scholarly debates have long persisted over a range of issues—such as whether Tian should be understood as personal or impersonal, whether it entails transcendence, and other related concerns (see Cline 2014)—yet no consensus has been reached.

However, this paper does not intend to delve into these debates. Regardless of how ambiguous the definition of Tian may be, one point remains beyond doubt: Confucius harbored a profound sense of reverence (jing 敬) toward Tian (Fu 2010, p. 90).

In the Analects, Confucius repeatedly invokes Tian with utterances such as “May Heaven cast me aside” (Tian yan zhi 天厌之), “Heaven has implanted this virtue in me. Huan Tui—what can he do to me” (Tian sheng de yu yu, Huan Tui qi ru yu he 天生德于予，桓魋其如予何), “Heaven is destroying me!” (Tian sang yu 天丧予), and “If Heaven had intended to destroy that culture” (Tian zhi jiang sang si wen ye天之将丧斯文也). These expressions appear in moments when Confucius faced political disappointment, moral uncertainty, or the threat of death. In such moments, it was to Tian that he turned for ultimate explanation and spiritual support. This trust in Tian, however, was not grounded in sacrificial rites or ritual offerings, but in a deeply personal form of religious sentiment grounded in one’s experience of life itself.

Although this section analytically distinguishes between Tian (天) and other forms of guishen (鬼神) as two types of supernatural entities—the former often regarded as the supreme deity, characterized by a higher degree of transcendence and independence, and the latter typically associated with ancestral or nature spirits and embedded within specific kinship structures, regional contexts, and ritual institutions—from the broader perspective of intellectual history and systems of belief, these are not separate domains. Rather, they jointly constitute a continuous and unified transcendent domain in early Confucian thought (see Note 2 for further discussion on the classification of guishen in this paper). Thus, although Tian may occupy a higher conceptual level than other guishen, Confucius and his successors engaged with an integrated structure of human–divine interaction that encompassed both.

In sum, this reinterpretation of sacrificial practice played a crucial role as the first stage in the Confucian reconstruction of the human–spirit relationship. Even in his approach to ritual studies, much of Confucius’ focus was on addressing this relationship (Z. Wang 2024, p. 173). Rather than abolishing the belief in spirits and deities, Confucius gradually reoriented sacrificial practice from an external, supernatural focus to an internal, human-centered one. As a result, his reinterpretation led to a focus on “inner life” (B. Wang 2011, p. 68). While Confucius’ theory of sacrifice implicitly resonates with the idea of qing (情 sentiment), it must be acknowledged that he did not explicitly articulate this concept. The true elevation of qing to the core of sacrificial meaning was a development of later Confucian scholars, who built upon Confucius’ foundation and further deepened the significance of sentiment in sacrificial practice.

Moving forward, we will broaden our perspective to examine the larger Confucian tradition of the Warring States period, analyzing additional classical texts to explore how early Confucians further redefined sacrificial meaning through the lens of qing.

3. Qing (情, Sentiment) and Sacrificial Rites: How Early Confucians Imbued Sacrificial Rites with Inner Meaning

If the foundation of early sacrificial systems was rooted in spirits and deities, the evolution of early Confucian thought marked a gradual shift in emphasis—from reliance on external divine forces to a focus on the inner sentiments of human beings. As stated in Liji 礼记, Jitong 祭统 (The Essence of Sacrificial Rites in the Book of Rites), “Sacrifice is not something that comes from external objects; it originates from within the heart.” From the perspective of early Confucians, the true foundation of sacrifice did not depend on any external elements but instead stemmed from human inner sentiment (qing 情).

More specifically, Confucian interpretations of qing in sacrificial rites can be further categorized into three primary emotional dimensions: remembrance (sinian 思念), gratitude (gan en 感恩), and reverence and awe (jingwei 敬畏)12. These emotional forces not only serve as the internal driving force behind sacrificial rituals but also shape the relationships between humans and ancestral spirits, Heaven, and natural deities as conceived in Confucian thought. In the following sections, we will focus on classical texts such as The Analects and The Book of Rites to examine how these distinct emotional dimensions became the fundamental elements of the Confucian sacrificial worldview.

i. 

Sentiments of Remembrance (sinian 思念): The Manifestation of Ancestors

In the Confucian sacrificial system, sacrifices to ancestors are not merely ritualistic activities; more importantly, they embody the profound emotion of remembrance (sinian 思念). As stated in The Analects, “When people are careful in attending to funerals and diligent in remembering their ancestors, the virtue of the people will return to its fullness” (shenzhong zhuiyuan, minde guihou yi, 慎终追远，民德归厚矣). In this context, “remembering ancestors” (zhuiyuan 追远) primarily denotes the sentiment of longing and remembrance for deceased relatives, which is one of the core emotional foundations of sacrifice emphasized by early Confucians. Consequently, sacrificial rituals are not merely ceremonial formalities but also serve as expressions and enactments of genuine human emotion. It is this very sentiment of remembrance that serves as the most fundamental means for humans to bridge the boundaries between life and death, between humans and spirits, and between the finite and infinite realms.

Liji 礼记, Jiyi 祭义 (The Meaning of Sacrificial Rites in The Book of Rites) provides a detailed account of a person’s mental state and behavior before, during, and after a sacrificial ritual; all of these descriptions point to a central theme—the remembrance of the deceased by the living. For example, during the period of purification and abstinence prior to the ritual, a filial son must carefully prepare the offerings, ceremonial attire, and ancestral hall. The most crucial aspect, however, is not the external arrangements but the internal state of mind—he must cultivate a deep sense of longing and remembrance for his departed relatives. As described in the Jiyi:

(Before the sacrifice) One envisions their ancestors’ dwelling places, recalls their smiles and words, reflects on their aspirations, remembers what they took pleasure in, and reminisces about what they loved to indulge in

(T. Yang 2004, p. 607).

(祭祀之前)思其居处，思其笑语，思其志意，思其所乐，思其所嗜。

On the day of the sacrifice, Jiyi records:

On the day of the sacrifice, upon entering the room, one seems to perceive their presence at their seat; when walking around and exiting the hall, one seems to hear their familiar voice; when pausing at the doorway to listen, one seems to hear their sighs

(T. Yang 2004, p. 608).

祭之日：入室，僾然必有见乎其位，周还出户，肃然必有闻乎其容声，出户而听，忾然必有闻乎其叹息之声。

It is their profound sense of remembrance that allows them to feel as though they “see” their ancestors sitting in their usual place, “hear” their familiar voices in the air, and “sense” their sighs lingering at the doorway. This feeling does not dissipate after the ceremony but lingers in the heart of the sacrificer. As Jiyi states:

On the day after the sacrifice, one wakes early, unable to sleep, welcomes their ancestors to partake in the feast, and once again begins to think of them

(T. Yang 2004, p. 610).

祭之明日，明发不寐，飨而致之，又从而思之。

These descriptions may initially appear to suggest a certain mystical quality, leading many scholars to interpret them as psychological or spiritual responses—perhaps as a way to humanize sacrificial practices13. According to this perspective, the sacrificer’s profound longing mentally or spiritually “reconstructs” the image of the departed, making them seem “as if present.” This paper, however, seeks to propose another perspective: such responses are not confined to the inner world of sacrifice but are fundamentally rooted in human sentiments (qing 情), and through the sacrificial rite itself, the invisible world of spirits and deities is manifested in reality.

From the viewpoint of early Confucianism, spirits and deities do not exist as independent entities that can be directly experienced through human senses. Nevertheless, they may still be “made present” in the human world through the emotions of the living and the enactment of ritual practices. For instance, Liji 礼记, Zengziwen 曾子问 (Zengzi’s Inquiry in The Book of Rites) states the following: “In completing the mourning rites, one must establish a shi (尸 corpse), and this shi must be a grandson” (祭成丧者必有尸，尸必以孙). This indicates that, in ancestral sacrifices, the role of the shi—a ritual proxy who represents the deceased—is crucial for ensuring the ancestor’s presence in the ceremony. This practice is not a mere symbolic arrangement but is grounded in the idea that, through lineage and continuity, the ancestor is “re-manifested” in the body and actions of their descendant.

Within the early Confucian sacrificial framework, the manifestation of spirits and deities is not solely dependent on the presence of the shi but is also reflected in the facial expressions, words, and actions of the filial descendant, the arrangement of ritual implements, the placement of offerings, and even the recitation of sacrificial prayers. In this context, rather than being entirely imperceptible or untouchable transcendent beings, guishen are made manifest through the emotions of the living and the enactment of ritual practices. Roel Sterckx, in his Searching for Spirit: Shen and Sacrifice in Warring States and Han Philosophy and Ritual, has also employed terms such as “create the spirits” and “presence.” However, his emphasis lies primarily on the ritual media—such as offerings, music and dance, and the spirit tablet—through which the presence of spirits is summoned into the sacrificial space, forming what he describes as a “symbolical arena” (Sterckx 2007, p. 31). Thomas A. Wilson, in Spirits and the Soul in Confucian Ritual Discourse, similarly emphasizes the importance of “seeing the spirit,” “the arrival of the spirits,” and the goal “to see and make contact with the spirits” (Wilson 2014, pp. 192–94). He also points out that a state of solemn reverence and integrity is a “necessary precondition for the arrival of the spirits” (Wilson 2014, p. 192). While Wilson also stresses the importance of inner sincerity in enabling communion with spirits—a view that partially overlaps with my own—his analysis, like that of Sterckx, ultimately centers on the real yet invisible arrival of spiritual beings that can be “seen” or perceived ritually.

While the vocabulary may appear similar, and without denying the validity of their interpretations, the present study highlights a different focus: it stresses the concrete ritual scene constructed through the interplay between human emotion and specific ritual elements. This scene itself manifests the presence of the spirits, making them perceptible and recognizable to the human senses—that is, it transforms the invisible guishen (鬼神) into an integral part of the tangible world.

In other words, it is the emotions of the living that bring the world of spirits and deities into expression and recognition within reality. This invisible sentiment serves as the fundamental force that opens the boundaries between life and death, between spirits and humans, and between the finite and the infinite in the act of sacrifice. As stated in Liji 礼记, Jiaotesheng 郊特牲 (Suburban Sacrifices in the Book of Rites), “When the noble man performs the three-day purification, those to whom he offers sacrifices will inevitably appear” (junzi sanri qi, bi xian qi suo jizhe 君子三日齐，必见其所祭者). In this context, “appear” (xian 见) signifies the manifestation of spirits and deities, indicating their presence in the human realm.

ii. 

Sentiments of Gratitude—Repayment and the Transmission of Energy

After examining the sentiment of remembrance, we now turn to the dimension of gratitude as another important facet of qing (情). In early Confucian texts, the concepts of “repayment” (bao 报) and “returning to the origin” (baoben 报本) which serve as fundamental ideas in sacrificial thought, frequently appear in early Confucian texts. For instance, The Suburban Sacrifices in the Book of Rites states the following: “The suburban sacrifice is a great act of repaying and returning to the origin” (jiao zhi ji ye, da baoben fanshi ye 郊之祭也，大报本反始也). Similarly, the Liji 礼记, Yueji 乐记 (Record of Music in the Book of Rites) declares the following: “Rituals are acts of repayment” (li ye zhe, bao ye 礼也者，报也). The meaning of bao (报) in this context conveys the ideas of repayment and reciprocation. Within the framework of sacrificial rituals, it primarily signifies the act of expressing gratitude through offerings to natural deities, ancestral spirits, and other divine entities, thereby reciprocating their role in nurturing and sustaining life.

This sentiment of gratitude (gan en zhi qing 感恩之情) is not purely abstract but requires concrete material expression, particularly in the rigorous selection and preparation of sacrificial offerings. As discussed in the previous section, in sacrificial texts that focus on remembrance, great emphasis is placed on the expressions, actions, and demeanor of the filial descendant, emphasizing the role of inner sentiments in facilitating communion with deceased kin. In sacrifices centered on bao (报), textual records, however, devote significant attention to the quality of sacrificial offerings, ritual implements, and the attire of the officiant. The principle of “valuing the essence” (gui qi zhi 贵其质) is emphasized, meaning that sacrificial objects should remain unembellished and in their most natural state, free from excessive human modification. This preservation of the offerings’ purity reflects the sincerity of the sacrificer in expressing gratitude to Heaven and Earth. For instance, in the selection of sacrificial food, the Lijijiaotesheng states the following: “The great broth is unseasoned, for its value lies in its essence” (da geng bu he, gui qi zhi ye 大羹不和，贵其质也). This means that the meat broth used in sacrifices must be cooked in clear water without any seasoning, preserving the original taste of the food. Likewise, in the selection of sacrificial wine, the text states the following: “The finest sacrificial wine is pure, and the most esteemed water is untainted, valuing the fundamental qualities of the five flavors” (jiuli zhi mei, xuanjiu mingshui zhi shang, gui wuwei zhi ben ye 酒醴之美，玄酒明水之上，贵五味之本也). This passage indicates that the sacrificial wine must be pure and unblended, and the water must be pristine and unpolluted. This same idea is echoed in the following statement: “The great jade tablet is left uncarved, for its beauty lies in its essence” (da gui bu zhuo, mei qi zhi ye 大圭不琢，美其质也), meaning that the jade tablets used in rituals should remain unpolished, preserving their natural form. These descriptions highlight that in sacrifices centered on bao (报), the simplicity and authenticity of offerings matter far more than their extravagance. The purity of sacrificial items serves as a medium for expressing the sacrificer’s inner emotions, making gratitude manifest in a tangible way.

In Jiaotesheng, after discussing the specific characteristics of sacrificial offerings, the text emphasizes the phrase “Thus, they are presented to the divine” (suoyi jiao yu shenming 所以交于神明). The meaning of jiao yu shenming 交于神明 differs between sacrifices based on remembrance and those based on gratitude. In remembrance-based sacrifices, it signifies the psychological and emotional connection between the sacrificer and the spirits, fostered through profound sentiments of remembrance. In sacrifices centered on bao (报), jiao yu shenming 交于神明 carries a more direct and literal meaning: through the act of offering sacrificial provisions, spirits and deities are able to partake in these offerings, allowing the living to reciprocate the nurturing grace they have received from spirits and deities, thereby completing the cycle of gratitude.

In this way, the sentiments of gratitude and the act of presenting to the divine embody the reciprocation of life-sustaining grace from Heaven, Earth, and ancestral spirits. This gratitude must be materialized in the physical realm. In other words, sacrificial rites function as a channel for communication between humans and the divine, grounded in the gratitude of the living. By offering the most pristine and unembellished sacrificial items, individuals transmit a pure and sincere energy to the divine, thereby facilitating the circulation of energy between the human world and the realm of spirits and deities.

iii. 

Sentiments of Reverence and Awe—The Emotional Foundation of Sacrificial Rites

In our previous discussions on the sentiments of remembrance and gratitude, we referenced numerous texts from the Book of Rites. One concept that repeatedly appears in these texts when describing sacrificial practices is jing (敬). For instance, Jiyi states:

A gentleman nurtures his parents with jing (敬) in life and honors them with jing in death

(T. Yang 2004, p. 608).

君子生则敬养，死则敬享

This passage emphasizes that just as one must serve one’s parents with jing (敬) while they are alive, the same attitude of jing should be maintained in sacrificial rites after their passing. Similarly, another passage states:

A filial son, when performing sacrifices, fulfills his sincerity to the utmost, his faithfulness to the utmost, his jing to the utmost, and his observance of ritual without deviation. He advances and withdraws with jing, as if personally receiving instructions from his parents

(T. Yang 2004, p. 611).

孝子之祭也，尽其悫而悫焉，尽其信而信焉，尽其敬而敬焉，尽其礼而不过失焉。进退必敬，如亲听命，则或使之也。

In this context, jing pervades the entire sacrificial process, requiring the sacrificer to exhibit deep sincerity, solemnity, and a sense of veneration. Another passage from the jiyi declares:

A gentleman returns to ancient traditions and does not forget the source of his existence. Thus, he offers jing, expresses his sentiments, exerts his utmost effort, and repays his ancestors, not daring to be negligent

(T. Yang 2004, p. 616).

君子反古复始，不忘其所由生也，是以致其敬，发其情，竭力从事，以报其亲，不敢弗尽也。

This statement reinforces the expectation that jing is central to sacrificial rituals and is the proper way to honor one’s ancestors.

Although the meaning of jing varies slightly depending on the context, its essence consistently refers to a psychological, attitudinal, and behavioral posture of deep reverence toward spirits and deities, ancestors, and the forces of Heaven and Earth. Despite its different expressions, jing ultimately originates from a fundamental internal sentiment—reverence and awe (jingwei zhi qing 敬畏之情), which can be understood as an emotional experience in the face of sacred power or existence. Rather than being a singular emotion, it is a fusion of reverence and awe. When a finite human being confronts an existence that transcends the mundane, there arises an innate sense of reverence and awe, leading to an awareness of the hierarchical relationship between humans and the divine.

This experience of reverence and awe is vividly illustrated in Jiyi:

A gentleman returns to ancient traditions and does not forget the source of his existence. Thus, he offers jing, expresses his sentiments, exerts his utmost effort, and repays his ancestors, not daring to be negligent. Therefore, in ancient times, the Son of Heaven cultivated a thousand mu of ritual fields, wearing a crown with a red tassel and personally wielding the plow. The feudal lords cultivated a hundred mu of ritual fields, wearing a crown with a blue tassel and personally wielding the plow. In doing so, they performed sacrifices to Heaven and Earth, mountains and rivers, the state altars, and their ancestors. The wine and grain used as offerings were all sourced from the yields of these ritual fields—this was the highest expression of jing (敬 reverence, awe) toward spirits and deities

(T. Yang 2004, pp. 616–17).

君子反古复始，不忘其所由生也，是以致其敬，发其情，竭力从事，以报其亲，不敢弗尽也。是故昔者天子为藉千亩，冕而朱紘，躬秉耒。诸侯为藉百亩，冕而青紘，躬秉耒，以事天地、山川、社稷、先古，以为醴酪齐盛，于是乎取之，敬之至也

This sense of reverence and awe manifests itself primarily in two aspects:

First, the sentiment of reverence and awe arises naturally in humans when confronted with the vastness of Heaven and Earth and the enduring lineage of their ancestors. The boundless expanse of the cosmos, the ceaseless cycles of the four seasons, and the perpetual renewal of life all reflect a grand order that transcends individual existence. Likewise, the continuity of ancestral lineage extends far beyond the fleeting presence of any single person. In the face of the eternal rhythms of Heaven and Earth and the generational succession of their forebears, individuals recognize their own insignificance and finitude, which naturally gives rise to a profound sense of reverence and awe.

Second, the sentiment of reverence and awe also arises from a profound experiential recognition of the de (德 virtue) of Heaven and Earth in nurturing life, and of the protective de of one’s ancestors. Humanity realizes that Heaven and Earth not only give rise to all things in nature but also sustain the moral and social order, while ancestors not only continue the bloodline but also lay the foundation of civilization for future generations. When individuals confront such an immense de, they simultaneously feel the smallness and finitude of their own existence and develop a deep awareness of their dependence on the de of Heaven and their forebears. From this realization, a profound sense of reverence and awe naturally arises. This reverence is not merely directed toward Heaven and one’s ancestors but extends to de itself—an infinite awe toward the nurturing de of Heaven and Earth and the protective de of one’s forebears.

In conclusion, the sentiment of reverence and awe is a natural emotional experience that arises when individuals encounter transcendent beings such as Heaven and Earth, natural deities and ancestral spirits. It constitutes the core emotional foundation of sacrificial rites; as Xunzi 荀子stated, “Sacrificial rites are the adornment of reverence” (祭祀，饰敬也). This sentiment encompasses awe toward the nurturing de (德, virtue) of Heaven and the natural deities, and the protective de of ancestral spirits. Additionally, it reflects a profound awareness of human finitude. Through this sentiment of reverence and awe, individuals recognize the proper order and boundaries between themselves and spirits. They come to understand the insurmountable distinction between humanity and the divine. In other words, the sentiment of reverence and awe upholds the appropriate boundaries between humans and the sacred realm, preserving the divine order between people and spirits.

4. Are Sacrificial Rites a Carnival of Sentiment?—The Reconstruction of Sentiment and the Human–Spirit Relationship in Pre-Qin Confucianism

In the previous two sections, we explored how Pre-Qin Confucianism reinterpreted the foundations and justification of sacrificial rites through the core concept of qing (情, sentiment) and categorized these sentiments into three fundamental types: remembrance (sinian zhi qing 思念之情), gratitude (gan en zhi qing 感恩之情), and reverence and awe (jingwei zhi qing 敬畏之情). These three sentiments, far from being isolated from one another, interweave and merge in sacrificial practices, collectively shaping the Confucian conception of rituals and their behavioral patterns.

Since qing occupies a central position in sacrificial rituals, it is natural to raise a critical question: Does the expression of sentiment in rituals imply its complete release? Are sacrificial rites a carnival of sentiment? Émile Durkheim, in his seminal work The Elementary Forms of Religious Life, emphasizes the fundamental role of sentiment in religion and depicts religious rituals as a form of collective effervescence (corrobbori), leading to the formation of two distinct worlds:

“The opposite has him running around like a madman, crying, shouting, throwing fistfuls of dust in all directions, biting himself, brandishing his weapons furiously, and so on. The very fact of assembling is an exceptionally powerful stimulant. Once the individuals are assembled, their proximity generates a kind of electricity that quickly transports them to an extraordinary degree of exaltation. Every emotion expressed is retained without resistance in all those minds so open to external impressions … a man in such a state of exaltation no longer knows himself … it is as though he really were transported into a special world entirely different from the ordinary… The first is the world of the profane, the second the world of sacred things”

(Durkheim 2001, pp. 162–64).

A similar perspective appears in Marcel Granet’s study of ancient Chinese festival rituals:

“The festivals of Ancient China are great assemblies which mark the tempo of the seasonal rhythm of social life. They correspond to short periods during which people come together and social life is intense. These periods alternate with long periods in which people are scattered and social life is practically at a standstill… Consequently, the essential feature of the ancient festivals is the sexual orgy … these festivals … mark … a unique moment in social life: that in which, suddenly brought to a pitch of extreme tension, it is able, by its almost miraculous intensification, to inspire in those from whom it emanates an irresistible faith in the efficacy of the practices they carry out in common”

(Granet 1932, pp. 221–22).

Within this theoretical framework, religious rituals are perceived as highly emotionalized spaces in which the boundary between humans and spirits appears to blur due to the uninhibited release of sentiment. Rituals, in this view, serve as a means of pushing individual emotions to their peak, momentarily transporting participants into the divine realm and allowing them to commune with deities. Does the Confucian conception of sacrificial rites align with this model? Does the boundary between humans and spirits dissolve in Pre-Qin Confucian sacrificial practices?

In this paper, I seek to put forth a different perspective: Pre-Qin Confucian sacrificial rituals were not a “carnival of emotions,” nor did they serve as a means for individuals to momentarily enter the divine realm through ritual practice. On the contrary, it was precisely through sacrificial rites—grounded in human sentiment (qing 情)—that the relationship between humans and spirits was both established and maintained, fostering communication and closeness while simultaneously preserving clear boundaries. The key to this dynamic lies in the distinct roles played by the three fundamental sentiments within the sacrificial context:

First, in the sacrificial system of Pre-Qin Confucianism, individuals establish a connection with spirits and deities through human sentiment, yet this connection does not signify a fusion between humans and the divine but instead establishes a relationship of communication and interaction, grounded in human sentiment. This relationship is primarily manifested through remembrance and gratitude—both of which function to bring humans closer to spirits and deities by fostering an emotional and ritual-based interaction. Rather than dissolving the distinction between the two realms, these sentiments affirm their interactive yet separate nature. For instance, in terms of remembrance, individuals, through their emotional investment and corresponding ritual acts, create a channel of communication between the human world and the realm of spirits. This enables the world of spirits to manifest within the human sphere. Meanwhile, in the dimension of gratitude, the relationship between humans and spirits emphasizes mutual exchange—whereby the living offer sacrifices as a means of transmitting energy and communicating with the divine realm. From these two perspectives, remembrance and gratitude both contribute to drawing humans and spirits closer, fostering an interactive relationship between sentient beings and the sacred realm. Through the practical acts within sacrificial rites, a system of exchange and communication is established. This does not mean, however, that the boundary between humans and spirits is dissolved; on the contrary, Pre-Qin Confucianism consistently underscores the fundamental distinction between the two. Sacrificial rituals were never intended as a means for the living to enter the sacred domain but rather as a way to maintain an appropriate connection between the human and divine realms.

Reverence and awe, by contrast, differ from remembrance and gratitude. They play a crucial role in regulating human interaction with spirits and deities. If remembrance and gratitude serve to bring humans closer to spirits and deities, allowing the living to approach them both emotionally and ritually—perhaps even fostering a sense of them as accessible and intimate—then reverence and awe function to impose a sense of boundary within this closeness, ensuring that human–spirit interactions remain within appropriate limits. In other words, reverence and awe are not merely emotional responses to the perception of the sacred; they also regulate other emotions. They establish a delicate balance in human–spirit relationships, maintaining the dynamic between accessibility and boundedness—between what can be communicated and what must remain beyond reach.

As stated in the Liji·Jiyi 礼记·祭义:

A filial son, when performing sacrifices, fulfills his sincerity to the utmost, his faithfulness to the utmost, his jing to the utmost, and his observance of ritual without deviation. He advances and withdraws with jing, as if personally receiving instructions from his parents

(T. Yang 2004, p. 611).

孝子之祭也，尽其悫而悫焉，尽其信而信焉，尽其敬而敬焉，尽其礼而不过失焉。进退必敬，如亲听命，则或使之也。

In this context, jing (敬, reverence and awe) implies that, during sacrificial rites, the living should exercise restraint in both their emotional expression and ritual conduct, rather than allowing themselves to be entirely consumed by personal sentiment. This sense of restraint ensures that interactions between humans and spirits maintain appropriate boundaries, preventing excessive emotional immersion from encroaching upon the sanctity of the supernatural realm. In this way, the presence of reverence and awe serves to regulate human–spirit interactions, ensuring that personal remembrance and gratitude do not overstep the boundaries between humans and spirits, thereby preserving the sacred order that defines this relationship.

This requirement for restraint is even more explicitly demonstrated in the Liji·Jiyi 礼记·祭义, which states:

In the suburban sacrifice, mourners must not weep, and those wearing mourning attire must not enter the state gates—this is the ultimate expression of reverence

(T. Yang 2004, p. 614).

郊之祭也，丧者不敢哭，凶服者不敢入国门，敬之至也

This passage indicates that, in the context of sacrificial rites to Heaven, even those in mourning are prohibited from expressing grief through crying, and individuals who would normally be required to wear mourning attire must refrain from entering the ceremonial space. This regulation, at first glance, seems to create a ritual paradox—according to filial piety, mourners are expected to express sorrow through weeping, yet in the sacred setting of a sacrifice to Heaven, they must suppress their internal grief in deference to a higher divine order. This precisely illustrates that emotional expression in human–divine interactions is not entirely unrestricted but is instead subject to strict regulation by the sentiment of reverence and awe. The living must be guided by reverence and awe, adjusting their emotional expressions to avoid compromising the sanctity of the supernatural realm. In doing so, they ensure that the relationship between humans and spirits remains one of both communication and restraint. This sentiment serves as a constant reminder of the divine realm’s transcendence and sacredness, reinforcing the idea that it must not be casually profaned. For this reason, the living must be mindful not to let personal emotions foster an undue sense of closeness with spirits, as this could lead to a disregard for the fundamental distinction between the two, a blurring of the boundaries between humans and the divine, or even a disruption of the sacred order—ultimately diminishing the sanctity of the supernatural realm. In this sense, reverence and awe function as essential safeguards, ensuring that emotional expression in sacrificial rites does not spiral into unrestrained release but instead remains carefully measured and controlled.

In sum, this section emphasizes that it is through the interplay of remembrance, gratitude, and reverence and awe that sacrificial rites enable individuals to connect with spirits while ensuring that this connection remains within the realm of communication without overstepping sacred boundaries. In this way, the proper distinction between humans and the divine is upheld.

5. Conclusions

This study has emphasized the foundational role of qing (情, sentiment) in Pre-Qin Confucian sacrificial thought. Such an emphasis raises a crucial question: While “reverence and awe” reinforce the boundaries between humans and the divine and foster an awareness of human smallness and finitude in the face of the supernatural, does this necessarily entail self-deprecation or self-limitation? Within this framework of human–divine relations, does the individual still retain agency?

Returning to the central argument, I have proposed that Pre-Qin Confucianism establishes human subjectivity and dignity precisely through sentiment. While the power of spirits and deities may far exceed that of humans, the relationship between humans and the supernatural, as well as the connection between the human and divine realms, is fundamentally built upon human sentiment. Through “remembrance”, individuals summon their ancestors in sacrificial rites, allowing the deceased to reappear in the realm of the living; through “gratitude”, they express their reciprocation to Heaven and Earth, establishing an exchange of energy between humans and spirits, and through “reverence and awe”, they acknowledge their own finitude, maintaining restraint and clarifying the boundaries between humans and the divine. In Pre-Qin Confucianism, human beings and their sentiments not only serve as the foundation of sacrificial practice but also form the very core of human–spirit relations.

It is worth noting that Pre-Qin Confucians did not deny the existence of the spirit world. As philosophers, they understood that humanity does not need to deny the existence of spirits and deities or any kind of “other” in order to affirm its own existence. Even in the absence of spirits and deities, humans would still be confronted with a vast and unknown world. The relationship between humans and spirits is merely one manifestation of humanity’s broader relationship with the world, and the way humans define their own existence is by no means dictated by spirits alone.

This perspective extends beyond human–spirit relations and applies equally to humanity’s engagement with non-human forms of existence—whether supernatural beings or emerging entities like artificial intelligence. Although humans may constitute only a small fragment of existence in this vast world, this does not diminish human independence, value, or dignity, for it is through sentiment that humans define their own mode of existence. It is also crucial to note that affirming human dignity through sentiment does not entail the negation of dignity in other existences.

In this sense, the answer that Pre-Qin Confucianism provides to the question of ‘Why sacrifice?’—namely, qing (情, sentiment)—is not merely an interpretation of sacrificial rites but also a reflection on what it means to be human. It offers a universally applicable response: regardless of the nature of the existence being encountered, Pre-Qin Confucians affirm human subjectivity and dignity through qing (情, sentiment). It is human sentiment that distinguishes people from all other existences and affirms their position in the cosmos.

It is important to recognize that human sentiments are complex and multifaceted. In this paper, we have selected only three core sentiments—remembrance, gratitude, and reverence and awe—as an entry point for exploring the foundations of sacrifice and the construction of human–spirit relations. Through this lens, we observe how Pre-Qin Confucianism, in its engagement with the ancient religious practice of sacrifice, grounded ritual in human sentiment (qing 情). In doing so, it preserved the sacred dimension without falling into blind superstition, upheld human dignity and agency, and offered a model for engaging with transcendence—enabling communication between humans and spirits while maintaining clear boundaries. This insight not only provides a new dimension for understanding early Confucian religious thought but also offers an illuminating path for contemporary reflections on how humanity navigates the unknown and the transcendent.