Sunday, June 12, 2016

Abraham, Igor Stravinsky, and Han Solo Walk Into a Blog...

Over the last few months, I've read several well-written pieces on Mormon culture and the Mormon community, mostly by people who identify as Mormons.  There has been a lot of discussion about the Church, its doctrines, and its practices since early November 2015, when a policy change intended to be made quietly was leaked on the internet.

A few of these articles bring up a question that I find difficult, so naturally the thinker/rebel/social scientist (take your pick) in me thinks it would be fun to engage with it.

What if Abraham was wrong?

Just in case you don't know the story, Abraham was one of the first biblical patriarchs.  The bible says that God promised Abraham a son by his wife, Sarah, who was very, very old--we usually assume she was well past typical child-bearing age.  God said that son would be the father of many nations.  When that son, Isaac, was born, Abraham and Sarah took it as a miracle, a blessing.  A few years later, an angel commanded Abraham to kill Isaac in a ritual religious sacrifice that usually would have involved an animal.  Abraham obeyed, and the angel appeared and stopped him at the last second, often depicted with the knife at Isaac's throat.  Usually, Mormons and other Christians celebrate Abraham's willingness to submit to God's commands.

That reading of the story is certainly valid.  After all, the biblical account says pretty explicitly that it was a test of Abraham's faith and obedience.  If that's what you get from the story, you're not wrong.  I've started to see a different meaning that I believe is just as valid.

A little background: this is coming from the perspective that the Old Testament was the national history of an underdog conqueror.  In other words, when a relatively small group of slaves successfully overthrew their world-superpower masters, they earned the privilege to write their own origin story.  I have no doubt that some of the Genesis account really happened.  I also have no doubt that some of it is an embellishment, a retcon (changing details in an earlier episode so the later ones make more sense), or a fabrication.  I believe this does not detract from the value of the Old Testament--on the contrary, believing that it's not 100% factual allows me to see more layers of meaning in every line on every page.  In this light, I see Abraham's story as a retcon, with the explicitly stated moral added later.

So, like I already mentioned, I've been wondering lately:

What if he missed the point?

What if God wasn't testing Abraham's obedience, but rather his ability to make informed decisions consistent with divinely inspired values and morals?  What if God wanted Abraham to say something like "No, this is my own flesh and blood.  God gave this kid to us when we thought it was impossible.  God told me to raise him, protect him, and get him ready for big things ahead.  That's what I'm going to do"?  If it really was a test of obedience, then Abraham did what I could never do--there are moments when my kid is my reason for living, and then nothing hurts like the thought of losing her, let alone causing her harm myself.  But I think it also could have been a test of conviction and dedication to the job he already had, being Isaac's dad.  If that's the case, then he failed miserably.  And we can learn from his failure.

The God I believe in lets us make our own decisions.  Sometimes our decisions bring our lives into harmony with God's will and plan, and sometimes our decisions bring discord.  Sometimes, it's like listening to Bach or Palestrina, and we can pick up on rhythm, meter, melody, key, and chord even if we haven't studied music.  It just sounds nice, even without knowing why.  Other times, it's like your first listen to Berg's Wozzeck or Stravinsky's Rite of Spring.  (If you don't know those pieces, go look them up.  I mean right now.  I'll wait.). The first time I heard those pieces, I grimaced and thought something like "they call that noise music!?  I could make better music by dropping my banjo into the blender!"  I was brave enough to come back and listen again, so now I'm beginning to understand the order that exists in each of those pieces.  It's still really hard to find the meter and the key, but now at least I can hear that there's a plan, there's meaning to it.  The loud drumbeat in the soft passage is there on purpose.  Even Berg's unsettling sprechstimme vocals are supposed to be there.  I think anyone who is willing to come back will have a similarly enlightening experience.  Sometimes, living a meaningful life means you're willing to take a risk, say no to an angel, or break with tradition.  Not always.  I can think of other instances when saying no to an angel would have been disastrous, and I'm glad John Williams returned to more traditional harmonies when he scored Star Wars (can you imagine Han Solo's lines all delivered in talk-sing?  I can't).  But still... There's a time to say yes and a time to say no.  My music library needs both Bach and Stravinsky in order to be complete.

So maybe Abraham played in the wrong key, and the angel came back at the end to set him straight and prevent murder.

Or maybe it really was a test of his submission to God's messengers.

And maybe, just maybe it's a chapter in a conquering nation's self-revised origin story.  But that's a discussion for another day.  Feel free to ask me about that privately.  

For now, I'm off to listen to some Chopin, another necessary part of my music library.  Look up his Prelude in C-Sharp Minor.  Do it now.  I'll wait.