Abraham (Sacrifice)

In a friendly environment where there are few if any natural enemies or physical challenges to their survival and where food is readily available, animals consistently eat themselves to death and/or pollute their habitat with waste products until ultimate extinction is assured. We are animals. We cannot help ourselves. We can convince ourselves that we have evolved beyond our animal nature, or that some benign force outside ourselves or beyond our ken is so interested in our continued existence that it will interfere in the natural course of events to save us from our destiny of destruction, but convincing ourselves of what might be does not make it so. We are destined to die, as individuals and as a species, because no matter how hard we try, we cannot change our nature. Thus says the evolutionist.
Animals eat and procreate and eat and procreate until there is nothing left to eat. Animals consume what is useful and discard what is not until there is more that is useless than there is of what can be used and ultimately choke trying to consume what cannot be consumed. So it is. It does not happen quickly, usually only over many years, centuries, even millennium, but eventually it comes to pass. Such is the lesson of Revelation. Such are we.
There is a glimmer of hope. Animals often procreate less when food is scarce, when they are forced to sacrifice something, when necessity outweighs natural inclinations, when actual hunger overwhelms natural instinct. This is the Catholic solution. We must sacrifice our animal nature, become something more than animal, something more perfect than animal, to earn the right to an everlasting and blissful life.
Protestants suggest that Love is what makes life worth living. Without Love, life becomes pretty barren. They suggest that even God is capable of Love, even that God is Love. For the evolutionist this is not likely, since Love is an animal emotion developed as a survival tool over millenniums. It expresses an overwhelming need, and as such is only dispensed towards those considered not to be a threat, those to be used without fear of unforeseen consequences, those held in contempt. This would, on the surface, seem a natural aspect for God since we are certainly no threat to Him and so much less than Him as to merit nothing more than contempt, but such logic is misleading. Love is a needy emotion. It is painful when our love is rejected. We can even be emotionally damaged. To suggest that God needs us gives us power over Him we should not and do not have, else God is not an all-powerful God. Love would make Him vulnerable to manipulation.
A common mistake in our relation to reality is to confuse who we are with what we are. It is useful to be aware of what is not us just as it is useful to be aware of what is us. It is just as useful to be aware of how who we are contributes to our evaluation and even perception of what is not us and to our perception and evaluation of what we are. It is absolutely vital that we do not let what we are and what we are not overwhelm who we are. It is just as important that we do not let who we are overwhelm what is not us and what we are. That is probably too concise to be easily understood, so I will try to explain more clearly.
Science is, or should be, principally (perhaps even exclusively), concerned with what is (the world apart from us) and how that what is effects what we are (our physical self). Intuition is viewed by us with suspicion and rightly so. Religion is, or should be, principally, even exclusively, concerned with who we are (our intuitive [survival mechanisms] selves) and how what is (that which is not our intuitive selves) affects us (us being neither physical nor rational, our spirit [what drives us], and our soul [the being our decisions have created]). The rational is viewed with suspicion and rightly so.
To effectively study and determine external reality, science forces us to become dehumanized. We must not allow our emotions to interfere with objective reality lest our self-interest overwhelm our common interest (our conclusions will be false and misleading). If we allow ourselves to be overwhelmed by this requirement of objective speculation, we devaluate human, animal, and vegetable life. All may, and perhaps must be, sacrificed for the perceived common good. We may even be tempted to make such a sacrifice for the purpose of obtaining more information (an argument for artificial intelligence being the replacement for biological life forms). In other words, curiosity could indeed kill the cat (all of us). Religion consistently makes this point by reminding us that we are fallible, that God alone is perfect. It warns us to be cautious.
By consistently making this point and making it such an immediate and world-shattering event, religion risks (and occasionally encourages) overwhelming external reality with internal torment, replacing fact with fiction or, at best, unsubstantiated speculation and at worst even outright lies. The justification is that by so doing they are averting the impending disaster, and (by some) even embracing a disaster that they believe is inevitable.
I am reminded of a member of a church to which I used to belong who witnessed regularly concerning her born-again experience. I pointed out to her that she kept changing her story. She replied, "Look at how many people have changed their lives and joined the church because of my testimony. I lie for the Lord." Objectively (dehumanized) I must agree with her. She had contributed greatly, not just increasing the membership in the church, but also to the quality of life of those within the church, but subjectively (intuitively) I am troubled. Overwhelming the irrational with the rational may reaffirm who we are, but I am convinced it will adversely affect who we will become.
It seems important to me and, I am convinced, to the future of mankind that religion and science work together in an atmosphere of mutual respect, not just to improve the human condition but to affirm the importance of all life-forms. Knowledge is important, but so too are the human emotions (that which gives value to knowledge).
One example is the story of crows. Significance has been given by evolutionists to the persistence of crows (who, in the face of danger, are seemingly playful but actually risking death) which could contribute to their survival, not individually, but as a species. Crows have consistently been observed gathering around a carcass being eaten by wolves. Instead of waiting for the wolves to leave and feasting on the remains, the crows move closer and closer to the carcass until they are within the reach of the wolves' comfort zone. The wolves lunge, narrowly missing (and occasionally capturing and killing) a crow. The crows scatter and then return, moving even closer to be scattered again (often with the loss of life) until the wolves tire of the game and the crows feast undisturbed next to the noses of the wolves.
I remember reading somewhere that there were children (in Beirut, I believe) who ran across the streets in the hail of bullets and then back again dodging almost certain death. One would fall and his companions would pause for a moment, laugh, and then continue the game. Could this be some similar intuitive survival mechanism, though misdirected and pointless, to that of the crows.
Before I continue, I need to remind you that we are developing a mythology here. A story is a story. It is not necessarily true, but neither is it necessarily false. The point is in the reaction of the listener. The story is believed long enough to evaluate it, not on its veracity, but on its merit (Does it serve a purpose? Is there an intuitive response having less to do with factual content than with feeling?)
There is the story of the monkey who, when its band is threatened by a large predator, suddenly breaks from his/her friends and flees hopelessly. The predator ultimately catches and devours the cowardly monkey while the rest of the group wanders off. Evolutionists suspect that the monkey did not flee in panic, but sacrificed himself/herself for the greater good. These evolutionists attribute the behavior, not to altruism, but to a built-in genetic kill switch, much as that found in cells programmed to die so that other similar cells can develop in some predetermined fashion. The alternatives to this mechanistic explanation are to admit either that monkeys have volition and altruistic intent, or that there is always a weak (cowardly) individual in some groups overcome by the survival instinct of flight. At this moment in time, the preferred explanation is an evolutionist one: that of an overwhelming intuitive conclusion of the monkey who flees that the group cannot protect him/her. People do not feel comfortable when human virtue is bestowed on their lowly brothers and sisters.
Interestingly enough, evolutionists would extend this genetic kill switch to the human animal as well. They would say there is, in direct conflict with our survival instinct, a sacrifice instinct that has contributed to the survival of the human species; that sacrificing one's life is not totally altruistic or volitional, but at least partly genetic and involuntary. This may be true, but the ability to short-circuit the kill switch suggests enough volition to make sacrifice a matter of choosing between two intuitive (instinctive) compulsions. I think the monkey was a hero. The crows, I think, are playing a risky but emotionally satisfying game somewhat similar to our less lethal sports: football, tag, hockey, etc. The children in Beirut, on the other hand, seem to be acting out some primordial compulsion with no purpose and with no will other than that of the non-existent entity that has been created by their camaraderie.
It has been suggested that there are two conflicting drives in the human psyche: the Dionysian unrestrained emotional (intuitive) outburst (either momentary or prolonged) and the Apollonian rationally constrained behavior. The first is chaotic but substantial, creative, giving expression to feelings and new ideas. The second is order, constraining those feelings (sometimes to the point of not really feeling them). Dionysian may be seen as substance (giving purpose or meaning to existence) and Apollonian as form (giving shape or predictability) to existence. Our inner self (intuitive skills developed over many years that have proven valuable to the survival of our species) and the turmoil of conflicting survival skills might be considered our Dionysian self and the outer world in which we must survive might be considered Apollonian. Slowly, over a very long period of time, we have begun to recognize that, though the outside world has no apparent purpose (substance), it does have predictability (form) and as a consequence as much value to our continued existence as our instinctive responses to that predictability.
The problem with predictability is that it tends to box us in. The form (predictability) makes life (our inner self) so easy that our emotions (intuition) seem unnecessary to our survival. They become instead a recreational activity and as such submit to order (planned predictability). Our Dionysian self rebels into excesses and abandon, and consequently our Apollonian self becomes ever more constricting and rigid. We are, however, resilient and can adapt. We have developed a sense of humor. Laughter has become a safety valve for the overly enthusiastic and for the overly controlling. It releases us from the bonds of chaos and from the bonds of compulsively giving everything shape. The Dionysian self sacrifices his/her absorption in emotional conflict and the Apollonian self sacrifices his/her absorption in creating boundaries. Both share the experience of letting go. It brings the Dionysian self and the Apollonian self together.
At this point I cannot resist bringing God into our discussion. There is a literary device which ends a story the way it was begun. I mention this because it seems to have been employed to explain God's relation to mankind in the story of Abraham. The story begins with Abraham challenging God when God decides to destroy Gomorrah and it ends when God challenges Abraham to sacrifice his son, Isaac. God wins when He is challenged though He does make concessions. Abraham loses when he is challenged because he is not willing (perhaps, being human, not able) to make concessions. God agrees to spare Lot, though it is questionable whether Lot deserved to be excused, but it is more difficult to understand how Abraham, if he did in fact fail the test, failed it (why he did not spare Isaac).
God obviously respected Abraham enough to listen to his objections, even to the point of yielding when He must have known, being God, that Abraham was wrong. At the end of the story, when God gave Abraham the opportunity to be the Abraham at the beginning of the story and to challenge Him, Abraham did not. He failed the test. Abraham did not respond with respect. He responded with love.
Love is a needy emotion. It is a form of contempt inasmuch as it obligates the recipient to respond in kind. The recipient may not respond satisfactorily, but that does not necessarily change one's feelings of love and the need to be loved in return. I do not mean to demean love, only to point out its source, its motivation.
Reciprocal love is healthy. It's natural. It's part of being human, of being an animal. It gives us the opportunity to interrelate with those very different from ourselves, but is by no means a cure for all that ails us. Today's world is in danger, I think, of glorifying Love to the point of deification, even accusing God of loving (needing) us and in some religious groups of being Love itself.
The story of Abraham seems to make this point: God does not love us, He respects us. He treats us and views us as His equals. Jesus of Nazareth came close to this conclusion when he called us God's children. We are, of course, not God's equals. It would be arrogant to presume such a thing, but the realization that God expects us to act responsibly in our everyday life and as equals, deserving His respect (even if in fact we do not really deserve it), in His presence needs serious consideration, if only for our future well-being.
Assuming that God does respect rather than love us, what could He have expected Abraham to do when asked to prove his love by sacrificing his beloved son? Abraham was faced with a dilemma. If he refused, the extent of his love for God would be in question, and to agree would mean the loss of his son whom he loved deeply. As a test of love, he had no real choice, but as a test of respect he had an obligation to once again challenge God. If his love were indeed being challenged, Isaac should have died that day. He did not. The fact that he did not gives us an additional insight into God and into mankind as well. Thus there is a way around the two conflicting emotional views (Dionysian and Apollonian) of the world and of ourselves. God gave us a sense of humor.
Our Dionysian self would have viewed the sacrifice of Isaac as a necessary tragedy and would have made much of Abraham's emotional upheaval and self-loathing and of God's uncaring nature. Our Apollonian self would have viewed the sacrifice as logically necessary and proof that Abraham loved God above all else and God as doing what God does: proving that He is our master and that He demands unqualified obedience. Both selves would have demanded the sacrifice of Isaac. So what is the meaning of the reprieve?
I would suggest that God has given mankind a gift. Evolutionists would explain it as a survival tool developed over many years and through many species prior to our own as exemplified in the crows, the monkeys, even the children risking their lives pointlessly in Beirut. He gave us laughter, a sense of humor that bridges the hopeless gap between our Dionysian and Apollonian dialectic.
When we are boxed in by our Apollonian bias and there is no escape, we can laugh (melt or tear) our way out. When we are drowning in the chaos of our Dionysian self-indulgence, we can laugh (swim rather than thrash) our way to the surface. Laughter, however, requires sacrifice. We must give up our bias. The Apollonian requires sacrificing some of our security in order to be more free and the Dionysian requires us to sacrifice some of our freedom for a little more control.
The following two items are examples, the first of the Apollonian (totally structured, but hopeless and without any solution other than elimination or grudging toleration, inspiring anger, frustration, and bitterness), the second a more Dionysian portrayal of the same problem (more amusing than hopeless, still without a solution other than to enjoy and ridicule the spectacle and even encourage its repetition at some future date). The first item is certainly justified, but seems not to understand the conditions that encourage political behavior. The second is definitely not justified. It is a mythological representation of the first, but it is more human.
Which just might be the point of sacrifice: how can we become more human without becoming less human. I know that seems paradoxical, but the paradox is the problem. Spiritually, how do we become more like God without losing our humanity? From an evolutionist point of view, as animals, how do we feel more deeply without our emotions overwhelming our good sense and consequently our humanity? Exactly what personal sacrifices must we make to become who we (supposedly) really are?

The Politician

Unbelievably ignorant, incredibly vain
is man,
Demanding his freedom, denying its gain
when he can.

Living today, dying tomorrow,
he gropes.
Destroyed by his past, crying his sorrow,
he hopes.

Claiming what future, declaiming what end,
is he?
To that extent he can dream, can always pretend,
it will be.

The Race of the Century

Republicans and Democrats seem to have adjusted well to the results of the last few presidential elections. Liberals and Conservatives, on the other hand, seem determined to convince one another that the other side attempted, one side successfully, to steal the election. Consequently, I don’t think it would be too far out of line to review the last few races for President from a slightly different perspective. It’s not who wins or loses; it’s how you run the race. It’s having fun when you run.
Liberals are losers. They shoot themselves in the foot before the race even begins. This alone should assure Conservatives of victory, but Conservatives are cruel. The minute the race begins, they shoot the Liberal candidate in the other foot. Then they trot along beside the Liberal continuing to shoot him in the foot as he crawls on his belly toward the finish line, all the while making fun of how ridiculous he looks and how clumsy he is. Sometimes the spectacle becomes so amusing the Liberal crosses the finish line while Conservatives are rolling on the ground in laughter. And a Liberal, quite accidentally, wins an election.
This is what happened in the race between President Bush the Elder and Bill Clinton. In fact, President Bush somehow offended the Conservatives early in the race, and they shot their own candidate in the foot. He still could have won, but he couldn’t hobble around them as they trotted along beside Clinton hilariously shooting him in the foot also. And so Bill Clinton won the election on his belly.
Furious at having lost to such a loser, the Conservatives continued to shoot at his left foot. Consequently, the now-President Clinton tended to put more weight on his good foot and so began to lean to the right. Since he tended to be right, he was not only a popular and successful president, he did something Liberals don’t often do. He solved a problem. Watching the Conservatives religiously pump bullet after bullet into that throbbing left foot, he suddenly realized what the source of his affliction was, and he found a solution. He banned guns.
That brings us to the next election. Clinton could not shoot himself in the foot, because guns were banned; and the Conservatives could no longer shoot him in the other foot, because they had no guns to shoot. So, no sooner had the race begun than the Conservatives ran onto the track pointing their fingers at President Clinton and shouting, “Bang! Bang! Bang!” That didn’t slow him down at all. He surged across the finish line. Bob Dole didn’t even make it from the start line. There were so many Conservatives on the track, he couldn’t move. They just ignored him and kept pointing their fingers at President Clinton yelling, “Bang! Bang! Bang!” When President Clinton crossed the finish line, and they realized that pointing their fingers and yelling, “Bang!” didn’t work as well as real guns, they went berserk and piled on the President, giving him a good thrashing.
This brings us to the last electoral race of the 20th century. The Conservatives were so busy beating up on President Clinton they didn’t even notice the race in progress. Consequently, they didn’t get in the way of George Bush the Younger as he raced along beside Al Gore. Unfortunately, Bush had a small impediment. He was a little backward. So his friends had to run along beside him telling him where the finish line was.
Meanwhile, Al Gore had his own problems. He kept tripping over his tongue. Normally, President Clinton would have run beside him holding his tongue to keep him from tripping over it, but President Clinton was busy being beaten up by the Conservatives. Al Gore could still have won the race easily. All he had to do was keep his mouth shut. Or bite his tongue. He did neither. While Bush was running the race backward, Gore stumbled along beside him tripping over his tongue.
Since Bush was running backward, Gore should have won by a nose. In fact, the closer Gore got to the end of the race the longer his nose grew. Seeing this, the relatives of Bush ran to the finish line and attempted to move it farther away from that rapidly protruding proboscis. They succeeded in moving it away from Gore, but in doing so, skewed it toward Bush. Seeing that he had crossed the finish line and not realizing it was skewed and so not the real finish line, (remember, Bush was running backward and couldn’t see the real finish line) he stopped running and raised his arms in victory shouting, “I won!”
No one paid any attention except the Liberal Court, which ran onto the track and tried to wrest control of the line from Bush’s relatives. Being Liberals, they tripped over their own feet and succeeded only in skewing it more. As the finish line flashed beneath his feet for the second time, Bush forgot that he was standing still and cried again, “I won!” Still no one paid him any heed. Finally, in exasperation, the Conservative Court rushed onto the track and grabbed Bush, picked him up, and threw him across the real finish line. George W. Bush will long be remembered as the man who overflew the United States government.
Another electoral race was run and won. Did I mention that Liberals are losers? If I did not, let me make the point another way. The Electoral College reminds us that our government is a Democratic Republic. Our Republic is a collection of states. Our Democracy is a collection of people. We elect people near our home (the state we live in) to represent our state in selecting (or electing) the executive who will run the larger (national) government. This Electoral College is what protects us from a dictatorship selected by a favored few swayed by self-interest and from a dictatorship selected by an uninformed populace swayed by emotion.
The Republican part of our government makes America strong. Without it, we would lose our Democracy. The Democratic part of our government gives each voting citizen some control over those who govern and so protects our liberty and our rights, to whatever extent we value those commodities. Democracy is the heart and soul of America. But without our Republic, Democracy would die from its own empathy. And if we do not properly understand our Democracy, it could be the vehicle that seriously weakens or even destroys our Republic.
With that thought, let the races continue. And, with a little luck, we may have many more as exciting as the one that introduced us to this new millennium.