Insane

Wow, someone is going psycho and it isn’t Stan …

I don’t know if I would have had the guts to storm out of church and go back to my parents, but otherwise I completely support Julia’s position.

Excellent writing, Brett.

It would certainly be interesting to know exactly how Abraham, Sarah and Isaac all felt about that commandment. A great parallel to this is when Nephi was commanded to kill Laban. I don’t have my marked-up D&C with me but in one section the Lord states that all of the saints will be tried, even as Abraham, and some of those tests may include showing the willingness to sacrifice something great or to do something against your personal set of beliefs. It should be noted that, after Nephi passed his own test by slaying Laban and retrieving the brass plates, he NEVER hesitated again when the Lord commanded him to do something: building the ship is a commonly cited example but the greatest test didn’t happen until after Lehi’s death when Nephi was commanded to take his family, separate themselves fromand even get ready to go to war with his own brothers!

How could anyone answer a question like that in hypothetical?

I think I would turn the question back on the bishop and say “I really think that the answer to that would be between me and God, don’t you?”

There are limits to stewardship.

I don’t know about this.

The thing about Abraham’s test is that it only works once in any given culture. Extreme tests are like that. I work with tests a lot, and there’s a reason that companies like my employer work very very hard to maintain test security. Once the questions are out there, deducing the right answer at leisure is typically far too easy. Extreme tests are even more likely to be ruined once they are known.

So Abraham’s situation was far far different from ours. First, God had never commanded something like that before. Second, animal sacrifice was well-known. Third, Abraham had been placed on an altar by his father. Fifth, Isaac was the promised child that came to Abraham and Sarah. Sixth, Isaac, by my understanding, was no young child at this point, but a young man–in his late teens or early twenties (or the cultural development equivalent) Finally, the commandment came not by way of a Bishop, but an angel (I say this knowing full well the arguments that in many instances the use of the word ‘angel’ in the OT frequently meant a mortal but divinely inspired messenger–I don’t think that this was the case in this instance).

If my Bishop came to me and said that the Lord required something like this, my reply would be something like “Bishop, I don’t believe that the Lord would ask something like this. Perhaps you should ask for some clarification, perhaps from the stake president. I know I certainly will be consulting with President _______.”

I’m trying to decide what it would take to convince me, and I’m reasonably certain that it would take an actual angel to convince me, but there’s a problem here–I wouldn’t ever believe that I’d have to carry out the sacrifice. Thus, as a test of faith, it’s a broken question. No one that’s read the story of Abraham and believe that it’s an honest representation of what happened is going to view a commandment like this as anything than a test–no one in modern times that is reasonably sane would believe that. Instead they’d immediately think of Abraham, realize that it’s not something they are going to actually have to do (or rather, they’ll believe that). Which makes the whole thing as a test of faith rather useless. I rather feel that one of the morals of the story is that God does NOT actually require the sacrifice of human blood.

The other thing about the story of Abraham and Isaac is that it foreshadow’s Christ’s sacrifice, and the fact that God himself WOULD sacrifice his only begotten. And DID. And there was no staying hand in the case of Christ. He had to go through it.

But as a test of faith? I believe the test of faith in modern times is much more subtle. I think of it as Nephi’s test–remaining close to God over the course of a life–enduring to the end. It’s having children with handicaps of all sorts. It’s remaining faithful when you have done everything you could and still your children leave the church. It’s the need to do what is right, even when the world says you don’t need to.

Do I support Julia’s position? Not completely, though I do think that there’s some truth to the idea that an appeal to authority to excuse one’s actions is misguided at best. That said I think that her reaction and emotions (according to what’s written here) are putting Stan in an impossible position–she’s already convicted him and nothing he says will be an adequate apology in her mind. She claims that he’s dangerous, but allows for no change in his behavior. In my mind that’s just as dangerous as what she’s accusing him of doing.

I’ll shut up now, but I’ll say that they are both idiots. He, for speaking without careful consideration, and she for not being willing to see that her husband is trying to make things right. He’s not doing it right, but he’s trying, and when she’s not willing to see that, she steps away from any moral high ground she may have had.

I’m sure I’ll have more to say later…

Sorry for the double post but I forgot the rest of my original comment. Certainly Julia is going the “mama bear” route over her son, but her portrayal and how everyone else must have looked at her in the restaurant definitely showed her as being completely off her rocker. To me it looked like she’d been looking for a good excuse to break herself away from the marriage because using this as a “one-shot reason” for divorce sounds really petty, especially since the start of it came from answering an on-the-spot question that Stan didn’t get a lot of time to think about. And does she think that she can ready Lenny’s mind? I know a good mother can read her children like a book, but even a four year old is capable of saying something like, “I’m scared,” but I have to believe Stan in this case since it’s also very unlikely for a four year old to know what “sacrifice” even means.

Was Stan a good husband/father? There isn’t enough info to know other than that he’s far more willing to put water under the bridge, even if it makes him look a little spineless to just give in and say “You’re right, I was wrong,” but he at least wanted to keep the argument between the two of them and not disturb the people around them. Another thing that I didn’t get a clear feeling from him on is the question “Would he sacrifice his son if commanded?” vs “Does he WANT to have to sacrifice his son?” I wouldn’t say he’s about to sacrifice his marriage because Julia’s the one who is more likely to throw it out the window.

Looking at Lenny, while he doesn’t appear in the story itself I have to think a little bit about what he may feel on this. In the eyes of a four year old he doesn’t understand why this is happening, all he knows is that mommy and daddy are fighting and, to a child, that’s one of the scariest feelings in the world. I’m turning 28 this month and I still get a sinking feeling in my stomach when my parents have a fight. If Stan and Julia indeed divorce over this, there’s no doubt that Lenny will ask why sooner or later down the line. What would Julia’s response be? Something like “Your father wanted to kill you,” “Your father didn’t care about my feelings,” or “Your father is more willing to let a dead old fart decide what happens to you than what I want.”? Or would she see the error of her ways in the long run and blame herself? Same with Stan; would he blame himself or Julia?

Then of course there’s the “instigator” in this whole situation, the bishop. I doubt he even has a clue in what happened by asking that question. If he even noticed Julia’s leaving the chapel, he likely paid it no mind or just thought the child needed a restroom break. Even then, it was still Julia’s choice to spazz out over the whole thing. Of course in retrospect there’s also no doubt that the question was poorly worded and many will call it overly personal. However, we do have to remember Joseph Smith’s statement (very paraphrased) that any religion that doesn’t require the WILLINGNESS to sacrifice everything for the Lord’s sake doesn’t generate the required faith to carry the people forward. That’s likely the message that the bishop wanted to convey, assuming he was speaking from a neutral position and chose Stan at random rather than to intentionally put him on the spot.

Ben,

Your list of points at the start reminded me of something. Not only was Abraham on the altar courtesy of his idolatrous father, but Sarah experienced a very similar situation when Pharaoh decided he wanted her when she and Abraham were in Egypt. So there’s no doubt that she also understood the significance of the test behind the commandment to sacrifice Isaac.

Wow.

My answer to the bishop’s question would be that I’m confident that God would never expect me to perform such an evil act and that I suspect Abraham and Sariah were as well. The real faith involved was taking his son up into the mountain and being certain that it would not be expected, knowing God as Abraham did. This is the only answer that I can live with personally.

Brett,

Great post. This actually happened to a friend of mine. She and her husband are divorced and their daughter (a teenager) had been to church with him one Sunday. In her Sunday School lesson the teacher told the Abraham/Isaac sacrifice story and followed it up with a full dose of “I would do it if God told me to”. She was appalled and voiced her opinion. On their way home she mentioned this to her father. She asked him the same question. He paused long enough before saying anything that even though he did not give a yes answer it was not a no answer and it crushed her.

This kind of question takes us back to the early days of the church, when Joseph Smith and Brigham Young tested members like this. So if you are going to put this question out there then you may as well put the some of the others out there as well…..

1. The Lord has told me I need to sleep with your wife/daughter (the prophet Joseph)

2. The Lord has said you need to give me your business for two years while you serve a mission. (Brigham Young to many early missionaries)

3. Your sins are bad enough that you need to shed your own blood.

Conversations like this are just one reason people link the church to fundamentalists and extremists.

Based on #4 and #9′s answers, one could definitely say that the real test of character for Stan was how he chose to respond to that question. It’s really easy to just blurt out the first thing that comes to mind and thus it takes a bit of quick thinking and willpower to say something else entirely. In fact, I’d wager that even Julia wouldn’t have said what she claimed she would have if given the same question. This is especially doubly true when one isn’t paying full attention to the talk/question (especially when sitting with a four year old).

#10

While I personally doubt the validity of the claims of your first point as a whole (too complex of a discussion for here), I do recall one story where Joseph tested Parley P. Pratt to give up his wife. When Parley and his wife Vilate proved themselves as willing, Joseph proudly exclaimed that they passed their test and proceeded to seal the two for time and eternity. Other than that, I personally believe that Joseph did not practice plural marriage.

#12 “Other than that, I personally believe that Joseph did not practice plural marriage.”

Really?

For the sake of avoid a threadjacking, I’ll stick with my earlier statement that there’s far too much information to discuss it here. So, yes, really.

There is one person who’s insane in this story. But it isn’t Stan, or his bishop, or Julia. It isn’t even Abraham. It’s God.

Very good piece of writing, Brett. Followed by some very scary comments. I’m speachless.

The “justification” (if there is any) for acts which are short term atrocious must lie in a longer term good. So let me invert the question for Julia in a way that might make it a more credible test for her. How many other innocent children would she be willing to see die to save her son? Every military parent faces that question.

As for Stan, the detachment from the personal, and the hint of careerism in the priesthood it implied (that’s called priestcraft, folks), ought to have him doing some serious repentence.

Sorry. Couldn’t finish that. The characters got distorted out of a shape I could relate to in trying to make a point rather ham-fistedly that I think needs more nuance. The God presented in the Old Testament is uncomfortable and demanding and difficult. I don’t claim to have an answer for how much of that I need to accept, but I do think rejecting everything uncomfortable or unpalatable is the wrong answer. I don’t need to see comfort zones more canonized than they already are. I need a God that challenges me and pulls me out of my comfort zone and demands difficult things.

And this isn’t Soviet Russia, so mortals don’t get to sit in judgment of God. Sorry. Again.

Julia’s a little nuts. The thing is, Stan really wouldn’t kill his son. He probably doesn’t even really believe in the story of God commanding Abraham to kill Isaac. The vast majority of Mormons who accept the story (because that’s what loyal Mormons do), when push came to shove, wouldn’t dream of obeying a command to sacrifice their child.

If I can be permitted a political analogy, it’s similar to people who believe that opposing gay marriage is sheer bigotry — but except the President (who also declares he opposes gay marriage) from the bigot list. If you press them about the inconsistency, they’ll often say that they don’t really believe the President means what he says, and is only mouthing the words for political purposes.

Julia ought to think of Stan the same way. There is not a reasonable chance in the world he’d actually kill his son, if push came to shove. He’s only making a show of taking the Abraham story literally, because that’s just what Mormons do. Talking about divorce over something like this is wicked.

#12,

The protagonists of that story were actually Heber Kimball and his wife, Vilate.

OP,

A great story like this elicits great comments, as seen above. Well done. The ambiguities are delicious and terrifying.

@ Dave # 3 – No offense, but I get a kick out of the Nephi NEVER did this or that again comment. Really? On what evidence are you basing that on? Are you assuming that everything we could hope to know about Nephi and his history as prophet are in the Book of Mormon? It’s just amusing to me to see people give such confident answers about a history that covers 70 years in 100 pages (and 30 of them were copied out of Isaiah. )

I also think the wife is quite overreacting. I think most people in the church are used to thinking that no matter what God asks, you should do it. I used to be that way as well, but now I have thought about it more in depth, and in relation to my own children, and I have to say that I don’t believe God asks things like that of his followers. At least not the God I believe in. If a prophet came to me and asked to marry my wife, I would punch him in the face. Period. And if I somehow didn’t punch him the first time, and by some weird event I actually accepted and he said it was just a test, I would still want to respond the same way – punching him in the face.

The God I believe in doesn’t screw around with people just to test how ‘faithful’ they will be. I wouldn’t do it with my children, I don’t think God does that sort of thing.

#18 — “mortals don’t get to sit in judgment of God”

#21: “I have to say that I don’t believe God asks things like that of his followers. At least not the God I believe in.”

Here’s the rub. When you say “the God I believe in” would not command people to do this or that, you’re opening yourself to the common temptation to break the Second Commandment — to create a tame god who is genial enough never to disagree with you.

On the other hand, when you just up and accept some god that’s been handed down to you, you run the risk of falling down and worshipping a god some other guy has created, to serve his purposes. And that’s not much of an improvement.

Since the whole basis for my going down the road of faith in the first place, is my determination that the only God I can ever have any reasonable hope of finding by anything I can do, is one whose fundamental nature is to be for humanity. And that means that there’s a strong presumption against anti-human commandments, like the one Abraham supposedly got. Overcoming that presumption would probably take something in the angel-with-flaming-sword category (coupled with a quick visit to a shrink, to hedge against the possibility that I just went nuts), and maybe not even that would do it.

22 — Let me offer this idea to see if it helps a little: When people say “the God I believe (in),” perhaps what they mean is “the God of my understanding.” For me, I believe in the God taught by the Bible and Book of Mormon — that identifies the one I’m talking about. But my understanding of him is much smaller than he is — a blind man bouncing off an elephant and trying to figure out what he’s experiencing. I’m not aware of any mortal capable of more than that — finite understanding of an infinite being. I don’t know that the writers in the scriptures had a more complete understanding of God than I do, but I start with what they’ve had to say and figure they’re not completely wrong.

So I can talk about my understanding, and you can talk about your understanding, and Uncle Bob can talk about his understanding, and we are all wrong, because of the limitations of our understanding, but we can each be enriched by sharing those understandings and finding out that the parts of the elephant we’ve each walked into give us new insights that we can try to tie together into a more complete picture than we had on our own.

My concern comes with the wish-fulfillment redefinition of God to make him comfortable. Aslan is not a tame lion, nor should he be. I’m fine with “I don’t understand how a loving God could do/command this,” but I’m not good with “God couldn’t/wouldn’t do this.” There is more to God than any of us can understanding, and he is aware of and can take into account things that we don’t even know we don’t know. Disagreeing with God is fine, but insisting that, therefor, he’s wrong is only okay when he really is wrong (aka, when he disagrees with me). I know that can be confusing to people who aren’t actually right all the time, and I apologize for that.

When I was still a believer, my response to the question “What would you do if God told you to sacrifice one of your children?” was always “If I ever thought God was telling me to kill somebody, I would assume I was insane and thus not do it.”

Well, aside from the fact that the bishop shouldn’t be asking questions and expecting answers in a sacrament meeting talk (so his is the first fault, just on technicalities), one might give Stan a pass for trying to get off stage. Or for failing to think “on his feet” well enough (most folks I know think of that snappy comeback only AFTER the moment has passed).

But reasonable and rational characters would provide little fodder for discussion.

Julia reveals her lack of faith in the God taught by the Old Testament record. I don’t judge her for that, but simply state that whatever God she believes in, it’s not that one. She also leaps to an assumption about her husband’s motive for answering as he does (in order to get ahead in the church? where’s the evidence of that?)

Stan’s answer was to a conditional question: on the condition that the command came from God, would you obey? Of course in real life, proving the condition would be the difficult piece, since Stan (and I, for that matter) doesn’t believe that God would command him to kill his child. After all, the reason for that sacrifice (as other commenters have pointed out) has passed.

So a quicker thinking Stan might have queried the bishop: “Before I answer you, how could I confirm that the command came from God? I would want to be certain of that before answering the question.” Of course, that answer would likely derail whatever lesson the bishop was trying to teach.

Even so, the most unfortunate element of the story is the bishop’s asking the question in the first place.

Is the story of Abraham and Isaac there to teach us obedience? Is it there to teach us the love of God as Kuri suggests? Or is it there as a type and a shadow of the atoning sacrifice of God’s son, so that we can understand the anguish of a loving Father in Heaven, who, despite His perfect knowledge of the resulting eternal blessings, must have felt some sense of pain at His Son’s sacrifice? Or is it is there for us to understand that we are saved as Isaac was, by the sacrifice of the Savior – the sacrifice that God provided as Abraham promised?

In my reading of that story, I have never felt challenged to do as Abraham did.

#23: “I’m fine with “I don’t understand how a loving God could do/command this,” but I’m not good with “God couldn’t/wouldn’t do this.” There is more to God than any of us can understanding, and he is aware of and can take into account things that we don’t even know we don’t know. Disagreeing with God is fine, but insisting that, therefor, he’s wrong is only okay when he really is wrong (aka, when he disagrees with me). I know that can be confusing to people who aren’t actually right all the time, and I apologize for that.”

I don’t think anyone’s really saying that the actual factual God is wrong. What is being said, is that when a purported commandment from God comes down which is grossly inconsistent with true divine principles, it may be wise to presume that it’s not from God at all.

#25: “on the condition that the command came from God, would you obey?”

A fascinating question, and one which says a lot about how people envision God and moral law.

In parts of Christianity, there is a sense that God is co-eternal and co-equal with the natural law. Like God, moral principles are eternal, and don’t depend simply on divine whim; God couldn’t wake up one morning, decide to play Opposite Day, and make lying or murder or idolatry a moral act.

In the development of Islam, there was once a tension between this notion, and a competing school that argued that it blasphemously infringed on God’s absolute sovereignty — that moral law, along with every occurrence in the physical universe, exists or happens as it does simply because it is God’s pleasure that they do so, and that He could change His mind at any time. As the commentator Ibn Hazm put it:

“He judges as He pleases, and whatever He judges is just. . . . If God the Exalted had informed us that He would punish us for the acts of others . . . all that would have been right and just.”

In the late 9th century, this school of thought prevailed over the more rationalist Mu’tazilite school — and what’s been described as an Islamic golden age, flush with great achievements in medicine, philosophy, law, and architecture, started to peter out. (It took awhile, but thanks to commentators like al-Ghazzali — inexplicably idolized by Dan Peterson and others at BYU — the guys who liked God to be an unconstrained oriental despot finally won out by the end of the 13th century.)

Joseph Smith flirted with this “voluntarist” thinking himself, in the context of defending polygamy: “Whatever God commands is right, no matter what it is.” Thank goodness, though, he walked it back a bit with the next sentence, suggesting that what might have appeared as a reversal of a divine rule was actually consistent, but not immediately apparently so: “…although we may not see the reason thereof till long after the events transpire.”

That takes us back to Abraham. It’s hard for me to square the story with the concept of a God who is co-equal with an eternal moral law. The overriding lesson is: God’s will is the only morality, which you should follow even if it clearly violates a previously-revealed moral principle. A secondary lesson is that God is a trickster: He will lead you to believe that he wants one thing (a human sacrifice), when he really doesn’t. That’s hard to square with “God is not a man, that he should lie.”

With all this in mind, I therefore have to take the story of Abraham and Isaac as — a story. Useful, certainly, as a type of the sacrifice of Christ, and possibly useful as a lesson for people who still hadn’t mastered the concept of basic obedience to God. But you can take these stories too far, and I draw the “too far” line at the point where the lesson becomes “do what God says, even if it’s wrong.” Because God doesn’t do evil.

Paul #25,

“Is it there to teach us the love of God as Kuri suggests?” That’s not my suggestion. It’s a suggestion that I deplore and ridicule.

28 – Kuri — sorry. Didn’t mean to suggest that you accepted the hypothesis that you’re obviously opposed to. But your comment (and the link to your post) did raise the hypothesis. And yes, you did ridicule it.

26 — But the circle remains unbroken in that reasoning. Who understands true divine principles better than God?

And I think a problem in this whole discussion is one of presumption. Presuming to judge God, or those who speak for him. And presuming how we would react in a place where we haven’t been.

I will agree with your point to the degree that we’re not going to jump to the conclusion that one statement from a mortal that “God wants you to kill someone” should be taken at face value without question. But the greater question is the one you raised in 27, and, as you point out, the answers aren’t particularly easy to come by. I would merge your last statement with the one before it: Do what God tells you to do, because God doesn’t do evil. I do think it’s okay to ask God for ID (a la Gideon) when God tells you to do something that doesn’t make sense, but, if it’s really God, then do what he says, no matter what mortals have to say.

But let’s be careful with the presuming thing.

to create a tame god who is genial enough never to disagree with you

Hmm, I’ve been looking at that a lot. I should have blogged on that today instead of what I blogged on.

But seriously, if God really commanded it, would you want to know why?

While I would respond to it in real life with “Err, God, this is Stephen, I’m suffering a bout of mental illness right now, need some help.”

But, assuming the hypothetical, which is a command from God without any doubt, the next questions would be context questions. What if the method of sacrificing your child was to take them with you to a work assignment to Europe where God was promising you that the net result for your child would be a better learning experience and a better life? What if it was a matter of not ordering heroic measures in a hospital? What if it was a “save the last bullet for me” scenario?

But for the poor idiot guy, who is responding in the abstract, without thinking, and walking into a full-on rant, sure seems like there is a lot more going on.

FireTag, I was assuming he is LDS, which makes careerism not terribly likely (not with a lame, unthinking “sure” sort of response). As for the contrary “Are you off your rocker for asking a rhetorical question that you know the expected response to so you can go on with your talk” sorts of responses, I don’t see those as rational.

The real harm, of course, is to the four year old who is suddenly having his whole world distorted over a fight that he doesn’t understand at all.

#30 — By all means, let’s be careful about what we presume. The error is in presuming that we always know who speaks for God, and when they are so speaking.

“I do think it’s okay to ask God for ID (a la Gideon) when God tells you to do something that doesn’t make sense, but, if it’s really God, then do what he says, no matter what mortals have to say.”

Even if an immortal being gives valid ID, I still have to question whether it’s a God worth worshipping that I’m hearing from, versus some kind of demiurge.

I’m not going to worship an evil deity, so if I get a command from a supernatural being to do something I remain convinced is inherently evil, then the answer’s going to be no, and let that being do its worst. I trust that the true God (who’s not a murderer) will take care of me in such a case.

I couldn’t agree more with Thomas’s comment in #19. The story doesn’t work for me in that they are both idiots, and it’s a pretty ham-fisted way to make a point. The answer the husband should have given the bishop is something between “I’d ask for some serious ID” and a simple “get real.” But even if her husband answered it stupidly, so what? It’s ludicrous that she immediately assumes he would in fact murder their son. She should have rolled her eyes and said “bollocks.”

Funny thing is, lots of Mormons (and plenty of other religious folks) unthinkingly answer that they would obey all kinds of ridiculous commands, but they wouldn’t really do it. They just don’t know that they wouldn’t. People do not know just how full of crap they are.

And Julia’s contempt for her husband is just outrageous, completely out of proportion to his stupid sheep-like comment to the bishop. Scooping up her kid and bolting out of the meeting, then staying a week at her folks? Not warranted based on this alone, for sure. Now, if he said it while he was cleaning his handgun, maybe . . .

Wow. This is insane, not so much for Julia’s nutty response, but for the lack of understanding.

The illusion is that Abraham was the strong man; and, Isaac was a defenseless young boy. The reality is that Isaac was about the same age as the Savior – mid 30’s – when he was asked to make the ultimate sacrifice. His mother, Sarah, was 127 (Genesis 23:1) when she died; and, she died at the time of the sacrifice; and, conceived in her early 90’s. This means Abraham would have been a very old man; and, his son would have been the stronger one that could have resisted if he wanted too. Like the Savior, he was willing to make this sacrifice. It sheds a whole new light with the story is properly understood.

32 — That’s only an error if it’s wrong, which remains to be established. Odd that that’s the only presumption you take issue with.

33 — Sorry that you reject the God described in the Bible and the Book of Mormon, because he has commanded people to kill or outright killed people for offending him. You can, I suppose, presume that all of those accounts are fictions. I find that an overly convenient easy answer.

34 — With you on that. Pretty much all of that.

35 — Also a good point the story neglects.

#34, I’m reminded of this account when Joseph attempted to take the plates from Cumorah before he was ready.

Joseph: “Why can I not obtain this record?”

Moroni: “Because you’ve not kept the commandments of the Lord.”

Joseph: “I can keep the commandments of the Lord.”

Moroni: “No, you only think you can.”

It is nice to see folks discussing the need for relevance from the messenger of such an extreme request as to kill someone.

I don’t understand the many people saying Julia’s response is nutty? In this story she sounds like she is angry over a number of relevant issues.

1.The bishop is representing a God who would ask fanatical actions from his people. (I think we all agree)
2.That the priesthood has a pecking order that promotes the seeking of positions. (Ouch!!)
3.She has some feelings about men using the priesthood to keep strong women at bay, rather than including them in matters of theology.(Another Ouch!

I believe I am the only one who thinks Julia makes a very good point in Stan accepting this one doctrine can easily take him other unhealthy places? Not in a Dan Lafferty kind of way, but if Stan is open to this mindset what does this say about his belief in his family? His desire to protect them and place them first above his own interests?

Hawk — The story doesn’t work for me in that they are both idiots,

Dave P. — liked that reminder.

Interesting how we have different layers of meaning in the Isaac/Abraham story and people’s reaction to it.

#34 — “People do not know just how full of crap they are.” Should be on a bumper sticker.

#36: “33 — Sorry that you reject the God described in the Bible and the Book of Mormon, because he has commanded people to kill or outright killed people for offending him.”

I believe in both books only insofar as they are translated correctly. I’ll add that I reject the heck out of the God who’s described as having flooded the whole earth, too, because it didn’t happen.

“You can, I suppose, presume that all of those accounts are fictions. I find that an overly convenient easy answer.”

Historically, the conveniently easy thing to do has been to just go along with the big guys with swords who announce that God wants various people dead. Telling them to get bent often has had some extremely inconvenient consequences…as evidenced by the fact that only one of the Cedar City militiamen apparently had the stones to do so in 1857. Who’s really “easy” here?

40 — Sorry, but you can’t excuse every case of God commanding people to kill as an error in translation without providing a language-based argument for why the words don’t mean what they say they mean. You mean you reject the validity of the text because they don’t fit your beliefs. Have fun on that slippery slope — it ends with the Buddy Jesus who asks nothing you don’t want to give.

And you face none of those dangers, so why bother bringing them up? You’ve wound up with a God who only agrees with you — what could be more convenient?

Blain – I agree with you insofar that not all “God commanding people to kill” stories are equal. Some of them sure look like tribal warfare or revenge or “let’s kill those guys and take their land.” The LDS version of the Abraham story that I have usually heard is along the lines of #35 – that it was a type of Christ to illustrate to Abraham how animal sacrifice related to the atonement, and that Isaac willingly participated as an adult. Even so, this is a story that is thousands of years old and was handed down verbally for a lot of that time. Errors creep in.

The one thing I am sure of in this story is that it has nothing to do with Abraham, Isaac or the hypothetical of this dad killing his boy on God’s command.

What we do have here is a wife that has gone totally unhinged at an inappropriate but not frankly that uncommon question raised in church, a husband who has responded with utter cluelessness, and a kid stuck unfairly in the middle. The hypothetical and frankly impossible-to-please-all-angles philosophical question (though I like kuri’s “I’d assume I was insane” answer to shut down the meaningless babblings and because it would probably be the safest actual thin to do) is not the question here. The Bishop’s questioning is not the issue here: even if inappropriate, that’s not how you deal with it on either an individual or group level. The real question is why did the wife freak out? That’s the piece of behavior that steps way outside the bounds of “normality” for admitted lack of a better word. Possibilities could include:

-The husband has been abusive on some level for years and this situation broke the camel’s back. Like many abusers, he’s used to putting on a good face in public and using her totally understandable (in a context of abuse) public outbursts (that he has often provoked) to make her look nuts when it’s really his deliberate fault.

-She is suffering from some kind of mental illness and is losing her ability to manage her public behavior in socially acceptable ways. She needs help and her husband and others haven’t understood properly what is going on in her mind to help.

-She’s been going through a long crisis of faith and he husband has been totally uncaring and/or baffled on how to respond. This situation again was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.

-She’s just a an angry person by nature who has not made the effort to control her rage over time and she’s snapped in this scenario. It could be unusually bad, or it could well be a common occurrence for her where she always walks away wondering to herself “why does everyone else freak out at *me* when I ask these questions when I’m just expressing how I feel?” She fails to get or acknowledge how hurtful and difficult her behavior is to others.

In all these and many cases it seems the question raised in church was inappropriate and the Bishop presumably should have known not to ask something that has seemingly only hurtful answers. On the other hand, ultimately the behavior of this husband and wife wasn’t really about this question but about longer-term personal issues that almost surely would have come up in the context of a different trigger if not this one. Her behavior in public was clearly the one that was most unhinged, but it could well have been his fault, her fault, or nobody’s fault in particular. We don’t have enough facts from such an out of context story to know for sure.

If you really believe in the immortality of the soul, then it is not truly possible for Abraham to kill his son.

Mothers kill their sons all the time. They send them to war, they send them on missions. They help them get driver’s licenses. They encourage their sons to follow in their fathers’ footsteps: to become a police officer, a firefighter, a coal miner.

If I were asked, “Would you kill your only son if God commanded you to?” I would answer, “Why should I? I don’t even do my home teaching.”

re #33
“I trust that the true God (who’s not a murderer) will take care of me in such a case.”
Thomas, you have obviously thought this out, how do you view the scriptures? Are they just stories to you?
I am a scriptural literalist so read my post accordingly.

As far as God being a murderer, or being able to take our lives, the scriptures are loaded with cases of just that. The flood, Sodom and Gomorrah, etc. Even in our day if you believe in a God that created this world how can you believe that he is not in control of the disasters that kill people every day? Does this mean that it is evil for God to kill? I say no, it is evil for man to murder.
What is the difference? We all die anyway. God has set up a world where we die, period.(Enoch and company excluded) This world is temporary and so are the physical bodies we reside in. He is also our judge. If God prematurely (by our standards) takes someone off the earth He does so with all the information.

But God has asked men to really kill other men also. There is the Nephi/Laban story but there are plenty of others. The book of Joshua alone exhibits this with shocking clarity.

Something I do not remember reading in this discussion is if God asked you to kill your own son or anyone else, how would you know it was really God? Even if an angel appeared to you, despite pissing your pants from shock would you have the presence of mind to ask to shake his hand? I think in the case of something this extreme God would have to put on a pretty impressive display to get me to put my soul on the line. Even then would I have what it took to go through with it? Maybe there is a good reason why I am not Abraham or Nephi.

Nice writing by the author, it is good to challenge our beliefs and discuss what makes us uncomfortable.

Oh yes, I forget to acknowledge the correction to my getting the names wrong in the Heber/Vilate Kimball story. Ironically I had only read about that in a student manual years ago, then after mentioning and being corrected on it here I saw no less than two other references to the story from completely different sources.

Not only was Isaac the promised child, he was the child of the Abrahamic Covenant: ie. that the entire world would be blessed through him, the seed of Abraham.

This wasn’t just a test to see if Abraham would do what God commanded him, it was also a test to see if he understood the covenant he had made with God.

Matthew Chapman – profound comment about mothers killing their sons all the time. It reminds me of the snake-eating-itself motif that represents life. In choosing mortality, we chose death. It also reminds me of Agammemnon murdering his child on an altar at the start of the Trojan War to symbolize his willingness to do what he was asking all the parents under his leadership to (potentially) do as they waged war for the next 10 years. It seems a bloody and senseless act (well, maybe war often does too), but it is also a very powerful symbol of leadership in that story.

So… Are you saying I was wrong and took the Bible too literally when I followed Noah’s example and began construction of a giant boat in my backyard?

We need to understand that there are general commandments (where only a few are excepted) and individual commandments (where everyone else on the planet is excepted).

Brett,

Another thought provoking story! I don’t know about the rest of the posters here, but I like your writing style. You’ve exemplified one of my pet peeves about religion in general. Anything and I mean anything that should shock and offend normal sane people somehow becomes acceptable in the name of God. Murder, adultery, incest, lying, steeling, war, and the list goes on and on. Thank goodness in our modern society we’ve found ways to deal with people who profess God’s permission in carrying out horrific deeds.

I feel very comfortable in stating that the God I believe in has no part in any of these. I think people can believe in any kind of God they want to, but as for me and my house…

I enjoyed reading the story and the comments. The story of Abraham is beloved by Christians and Muslims alike (although Muslims believe that Abraham was commanded to sacrifice Ishmael.) I found the misuse of authority by the bishop, who had no right to ask a member if they would follow Abraham’s example, particularly valuable in our patriarchal culture, where I have observed a misuse of authority by both bishops and stake presidents.

I find the account of Abraham more palatable, and even inspiring, when I read Paul’s account of Abraham in Hebrews 11, where Paul explains that Abraham’s faith was so great that he believed God would raise up his son from the dead. With that said, I wonder how many children have been murdered and how many women and children have been abused by those who misunderstand the role of Abraham and his relationship to God.

$41: “40 — Sorry, but you can’t excuse every case of God commanding people to kill as an error in translation without providing a language-based argument for why the words don’t mean what they say they mean. You mean you reject the validity of the text because they don’t fit your beliefs. Have fun on that slippery slope — it ends with the Buddy Jesus who asks nothing you don’t want to give.”

I understand the word “translate” in this context to include not only grammatical translation, but the whole process by which the perfect Word of God is transmitted into human language. That includes historical errors as well as grammatical.

I’ve discussed the “slippery slope” above, and recognize the danger. It’s unavoidable — at least if you want to avoid a whole different slippery slope, that of fundamentalism, which is a dead end unless you affirmatively reject the reason God gave you. And I believe that’s a sin all by itself.

Moroni himself, by the way, skated out on that “slippery slope” of yours: He expressly rejected Joshua 10:12-13, which says the sun goes around the earth, because it “didn’t fit his beliefs”:

“Yea, if he say unto the earth—Thou shalt go back, that it lengthen out the day for many hours—it is done; And thus, according to his word the earth goeth back, and it appeareth unto man that the sun standeth still; yea, and behold, this is so; for surely it is the earth that moveth and not the sun.

(Helaman 12:14-15)

In any event, we can take an objective measure of whether I’m doomed to water down Jesus into a “tame lion,” who never asks anything hard of me. Short version: it hasn’t yet. I am not the adulterous, beer-swilling, Sabbath-breaking nihilist I’m supposed to have become; in fact, I’ve remained active in the Church while plenty of one-time fundamentalists have bitten the dust. Maybe you’re a holier man than I am, or maybe not. I’m perfectly willing to let God judge when the time comes.

You insist that questioning one particular story, where God is seen to act in what appears to be gross violation of at least two principles of the eternal moral law (“thou shalt not kill” and dishonesty”), amounts to switching the true God for a personal idol. No, it only means that I remain open to the possibility that not everything a bunch of flea-infested desert dwellers wrote in a book was supposed to get written there. (The Song of Solomon apparently wasn’t, so there’s a precedent.) As you point out, this is not likely to affect me, or anyone else, personally, so this is absolutely nothing like the kind of self-justifying that leads to people deciding the moral commandments that do apply to them, don’t. When I start rationalizing away the Law of Chastity, then I’ve got a problem. Here, the issue is simply that reading Scripture as a whole, I’ve concluded that the most reasonable interpretation of the Abraham/Isaac story is that what we’ve received, is not a full accurate account of what God actually did that day.

#45 Hebron: “Even in our day if you believe in a God that created this world how can you believe that he is not in control of the disasters that kill people every day?”

Interesting thought. Yes, I believe God created the world — the physical universe — but no, I do not believe, as a Muslim would, that every aspect of the working of the physical world, right down to the spin of each electron, happens because of the express will of God. I think He created a physical universe that works according to natural law, because for some reason, living in such a random place is a necessary condition for a being to rise to the kind of life God lives, which is His whole purpose for his creation.

The “disasters that kill people every day” — earthquakes, floods, tsunamis, hurricanes, plagues — occur because in order for the conditions to exist to sustain mortal life on a planet this size and this close to the sun, you need plate tectonics, atmospheric convection, and evolution. The upside of those things is nice beautiful mountains and soft breezes and puppy dogs. The downside is the aforementioned disasters. It’s all part of the deal.

God is generally responsible for the existence of the universe, but — like a manufacturer of cars, a certain percentage of which will predictably be the instruments of fatal crashes — He’s not morally liable for damages unavoidably caused by the universe’s operation. Applying a principle from negligence law, the good that comes from the existence of the universe as presently constituted, outweighs the bad.

So no, I don’t think God, as a general rule, sends earthquakes or plagues to kill people. The accounts in Scripture of this occuring, were written as the writers understood God. I believe what is more likely, is not that God specifically brews up a hurricane and sends it at people, but rather than He may (when people are beyond hearing him) not be able to inspire them to take precautions against disasters, and they are left to their fate. That’s how I view the story of Noah: The Black Sea basin was going to flood entirely by natural processes; Noah was the only man spiritual enough to hear the promptings of the Lord that were beyond broadcast to everyone warning them to get out of Dodge.

#45, part 2: “If God prematurely (by our standards) takes someone off the earth He does so with all the information.

But God has asked men to really kill other men also. There is the Nephi/Laban story but there are plenty of others. The book of Joshua alone exhibits this with shocking clarity.”

Again, not being an across-the-board scriptural literalist, I don’t necessarily credit every account in Scripture of God killing someone. I don’t believe, for instance, that God killed Onan simply for practicing birth control. (Gen. 38:8-10.) I believe it’s irrational to believe in an arbitrary and capricious God, and it sure seems arbitrary and capricious to kill a guy for “spilling it on the ground,” when men do a lot worse without getting struck down.

Even so, I’m more willing to consider that God may occasionally engage in a surgical smite to further his legitimate purposes. If it’s moral for a country to kill a personally innocent enemy soldier to further the cause of victory in a just war, then (in light of the element of immortality you mentioned), it wouldn’t necessarily be immoral for God to take a piece or two off the playing field. I’m less convinced that God actually commands others to do the dirty work. It’s a precedent too easily abused. The vast majority of people killed because God supposedly willed it, is surely far greater than the number of true righteous kills. Why select a tactic that involves so much collateral damage?

#44 — “Mothers kill their sons all the time. They send them to war, they send them on missions. They help them get driver’s licenses. They encourage their sons to follow in their fathers’ footsteps: to become a police officer, a firefighter, a coal miner.”

I’m not sure it’s proper to say that mothers actually “kill” their sons in those situations. In law, there’s a distinction between actual causation, and legal causation. To oversimplify, it means that even though many actions may have contributed to an occcurence (like, for example, a woman giving birth to someone who grows up to be a serial killer), moral or legal responsibility for the occurence is only imputed when the connection between an act and an occurence is relatively close. A mother sending her child on a mission is certainly not intending his death, or sending him into a situation where death is so certain to call it “killing.”

BTW, being a policeman or a fireman is ridiculously safe compared to being an inner-city convenience store clerk, or a farmer, logger or fisherman. Mothers, don’t let your children work at the Kwik-E-Mart.

Thomas,

Interesting comments, I particularly like the commentary about natural laws. I too struggle with some of the stories in the Bible, particularly the Old Testament. For example, the whole concept of the flood and how much water it would take to consume the whole earth; and, the most recent lesson I taught in Gospel Doctrine about Jonah and the “Big Fish”.

I find solace in the counsel the Lord gave to Joesph Smith in the 91st section of the D&C about the Apocryha:

“Verily, thus saith the Lord unto you concerning the Apocrypha —there are many things contained therein that are true, and it is mostly translated correctly; there are many things contained therein that are not true, which are interpolations by the hands of men.”

I think this applies to almost anything we read in the Church and the counsel the Lord provides should be applied to the Bible, BofM, D&C and PofGP.

“Therefore, whoso readeth it, let him understand, for the Spirit manifesteth truth; and whoso is enlightened by the Spirit shall obtain benefit therefrom; and whoso receiveth not by the Spirit, cannot be benefited”

I do have one objection with what you said, what’s wrong with an “adulterous, beer-swilling, Sabbath-breaking nihilist”. Oh, and I do like the Kwik-E-Mart reference – go Apu.

Thanks, Will. Good point re: the Apocrypha.

“For example, the whole concept of the flood and how much water it would take to consume the whole earth…”

Enough that, if it were suspended as vapor in the pre-flood atmosphere, the heat and pressure on the Earth’s surface would have been similar to the inside of a steam locomotive’s boiler.

Thank you Brett,I think you challenge your reader to find personal meaning in this piece. As your story suggests there are many interruptions of any one thing, writings, pictures, questions or God. Who’s to say what is the right Perception?

I have thought about this for a few days and here we go.

#44 — “Mothers kill their sons all the time. They send them to war, they send them on missions. They help them get driver’s licenses. They encourage their sons to follow in their fathers’ footsteps: to become a police officer, a firefighter, a coal miner.”

If you follow the logic behind this idea you could say that all mothers kill all their children simply by conceiving. For as soon as life embarks, death is inevitable. I think in the case of murder the whole concept of “innocent blood” is so important to reconcile our actions in eternity. Of the myriad factors that may culminate in one’s demise, such as circumstance and others influences, who could surmise ultimately which of those variables were contributing factors.

Only God can truly know our intent and he has proclaimed stipulations by which we will be held accountable. Mormonism’s concept of judgment being based on knowledge is also another interesting puzzle piece.

re 53,54

Interesting, thank you for taking the time to respond Thomas.
“I believe it’s irrational to believe in an arbitrary and capricious God, and it sure seems arbitrary and capricious to kill a guy for “spilling it on the ground,” when men do a lot worse without getting struck down.”

I can certainly side with your belief in the character of God in this sentiment because I do not believe God to be this way either. My literalist perspective renders passages like this as justifiable due to unknown reasons to us the reader, rather than categorizing the passage as spurious. Ether way as far as the burden of proof goes both sides are hard pressed to nail down something definitive in a case like this or Abraham and Issac.

All we have for now is the text and the Spirit to guide us.

42 — I don’t have an answer, yet, of how much validity I give to those stories. I’m trying to get my brain around the paradigm used by the OT writers, and don’t accept every claim they make regarding what God did or didn’t do and why. I am far from arguing for a literal face-value understanding of the text. But I think the case for rejecting all of the God-commanded or God-committed killing stories requires more of a case than I’ve seen made here — certainly more than “I’m not comfortable with it.”

I think the greatest value in the story is to be found in understanding the symbolic reference to God sacrificing his son. Yeah. And I think that needs to be taken into account in the “God wouldn’t ask that” response. However we try to understand the Atonement, there was something that required God sacrificing his son so that we could be saved. That’s an ugly thing to watch, but the result is quite beautiful. It’s not easy to resolve this in our minds, and I don’t think it should be. That’s probably why I object to the effort to come up with an easy answer about it — let the discomfort of this work in your mind as a way of coming to understand a deeper truth.

52 — I think that’s stretching the word “translate” quite out of shape. There are other errors in the text, particularly in the Bible, but those same difficulties don’t apply to Nephi killing Laban. There, the story is explicit — Nephi doesn’t want to kill Laban, and an angel tells him he has to, so he does.

I think the slope is always going to be slippery, and agree that we have no choice but to play on it. But I think that needs to produce in us a level of humility and uncertainty when it comes to the conclusions we’re trying to base on it, and I think we need to try to resolve our inner conflicts with an eye toward God’s truth, rather than toward what makes us comfortable (or, for that matter, uncomfortable).

I’m pleased with your account that you’ve not fallen into grievous sin. Please note that I’ve not claimed any kind of superiority to anybody, so your broaching the question of my relative holiness is one that I reject in the strongest terms. It has absolutely nothing to do with anything I’m talking about, and I don’t particularly care for the implication that I’m making such a claim. Please never do that again. I’m disagreeing with what you’re saying, and I’m putting my reasons for that disagreement right on the screen — I see you rejecting important things for bad reasons, and have concerns about where that can lead. That it has not led to those things in your case can only show that such dangerous outcomes do not always happen in the time-frame you’ve experienced thus far. As I’ve not made such a claim, my point and concerns remain.

I don’t care for the contempt you show for the OT writers. I wouldn’t speak of anybody in those kinds of terms. I may reject some of their claims, but that rejection is based on things more valid than whether they had fleas or lived in the desert. Ad hominem never flies with me, and disrespecting the people who took the time to record these stories doesn’t impress me much either. Sorry.

But I think you’re taking my objections to your stated reasoning as some kind of defense of everything the OT writers wrote. It quite certainly is not. At this point, I’m considering most everything in the OT narrative prior to around the Samuel/Kings/Chronicles set to be largely (perhaps exclusively) legendary material best understood for the lessons that can be drawn from the legends, as opposed to expecting them to describe literal facts based in what the translated words mean to me as a modern English speaker. I don’t think the OT writers intentionally had such a person in mind as an audience, or such an understanding in mind as the meaning of what they were writing, so I don’t think taking their words as other-than-literal is showing them disrespect. My opinion on this might change further in time — we’ll see.

Also, you might want to look more closely into the Decalogue, because it does not command not to kill, and it doesn’t command not to lie either. Exploring this more closely might be a point of entry for a deeper understanding of those issues. I think there are some interestingly nuanced layers on those questions that your approach seems to be glossing over. I think that’s a dangerous byproduct of feeling too free to reject anything uncomfortable in the text — you miss out on things that can be gained by trying to find resolution of apparent conflicts when you dismiss the whole conflict as an error on the part of the writers.

Blain,#41,61 — As an outsider looking on it sure looks like a holier than thou superiority attitude to me – “it ends with the Buddy Jesus who asks nothing you don’t want to give” – with the bullying directive “never do that again”. Are you going to spank him and send him to his room if he does?

What’s more, and ironically, it completely misses the point Thomas was trying to make. It can be more than just a language translation. As I previously pointed out and as the Lord said in the D&C “there are many things contained therein that are not true, which are interpolations by the hands of men” In other words, Men screw up the meaning and takes things out of context, like you did with Thomas. Men are influenced by their environment and by their personal experiences and put things in the scriptures that are simply not true.

62 — Sorry if I made that impression. The “Buddy Jesus” comment was pointing to the dangers of sliding too far on the slippery slope which I agreed we all have to play on. I’m not placing Thomas at that eventuality at this point — I don’t know enough to do so — but I see it as a risk. YMMV.

But I think you’re carefully avoiding all of the mitigating language I used, and, without that, I sound like much more of a jerk than I actually am. I know I said “please” at least twice in the paragraph where I requested he not characterize me as claiming moral superiority, for instance, and had no implied “or else X” attached to it. I think the problem has to do with the bluntness of my tone — many people need to be angry to get to that kind of a tone. I just choose bluntness because I think it brings better clarity than a more buffered tone does.

And now you’re arguing against a position I never took, and have explicitly rejected in one of the comments you’re nominally responding to. I have never argued for scriptural inerrency, or for a strictly literal interpretation on face value. Not just in this thread, but never (to the best of my memory). I’m well aware of ways in which errors can creep into the process, and think many of them result from flawed ways of reading (and reading things into) the text. But there’s a big difference between being flawed and being presumably inferior in all circumstances. What I’ve said is that you need to have more reason to reject the idea that God did something with than that it doesn’t match up with your preconceptions of what God will or won’t do. When there’s an apparent conflict between your preconceptions and what the scriptures say, both the scripture and your preconceptions should be re-examined to see if the conflict is real, and where each contributes to that conflict and where the errors might be. What I’ve heard has been that, when such a conflict appears, the default position is that the scripture is in error, and that’s what I’m objecting to.

And I’m objecting to describing every error in the text as a problem of being “translated correctly.” I did not bring that to the table.

I have no idea what you’re talking about where I’ve taken something out of context here. Please show me where I did that.

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” Do not question the motives of God, he himself has sacrificed his own son for every one of us. If God asked me to sacrifice my son, I would have to do it. I know in my heart that God has a reason for everything, as horrid as it may seem at the time.

To me the whole test of faith in this story is the faith that in the end God would not make him do it. From Abraham’s point of view I think he went to the Alter knowing full well he wasn’t going to go through with, because he knew in the end God wouldn’t make him do it. In likewise Issac on the other hand had to complete assurance that his father wouldn’t have gone though it. Sorry its the only way the story makes sense to me — the fact that nobody believed that would in fact go through it but we’re willing to trust enough to play though charade. Is my interpretation the correct one? I doubt it. But I don’t really care that’s the only way the story makes any sense to me and I completely reject the notion that if God told me to do it that that would override my sense of right or wrong.

And for those that say they would do it, I say strive to be more like Adam who did what he felt was right, and chose to Love others (Eve), rather the path of complete obedience to Law.

I really don’t think that it’s a question that involves god/God at all. It’s a question about yourself, about one’s state of mind.

And it’s an absurd, abhorrent question at that. What the real question is, is this: ‘Is your devotion such, that, should the creator and ruler of all things created command you to, you would kill your only child.”

Obedience really has nothing to do with the problematic side of the question. The really unsettling part is the hypothetical “Yes, I’m prepared to kill my only child.”

The reality, for me at least, is that God never issued that command. And for the record, yes: I am calling into question the veracity of the bible. Consider for a moment the source of the bible, particularly the old testament. Most of it’s contents were oral tradition for many generations. Oral traditions change and evolve, and lose much of their credibility as an actual historical text. Then consider further the culture of the audience for which the story of Abraham and Isaac was intended. Shepherds. Nomadic tribes of people with no education quite literally scratching a living out of rocks. If you look at the continuum of religious traditions, the more fundamentalist the religious belief, the more dogmatic or black & white the deity becomes.

Now, when it comes to LDS faith, black and white is a very predominant method of viewing the world, the gospel, and right/wrong. Things often become represented this way all the way down the ‘chain of command.’ I will recall to everyone’s mind President Gordon B. Hinckley’s remarks on the Book of Mormon, he declared that it is either (paraphrased) exactly what it is reputed to be; a second testament of Christ and contains the fullness of the everlasting Gospel, or that it is the single greatest hoax ever perpetrated by man.

In reality, that’s not true. It’s not A or B. It isn’t Black or White. The Book of Mormon, in reality and all honesty, can be anything on the spectrum from True to False. It is not one or the other, selectively. I find that the story of Abraham and the story of Nephi and Laban are equally absurd, and serve the same purpose to illustrate to people that the best devotion to God we could possible have is one without checks and balances.

This serves the purpose of a strict, fanatic religious belief. The question is: is a fundamentalist or fanatical religious system what you _really_ want. And that’s a tough question to ask. The short story here is bringing up these tough-as-nails questions. For many the indoctrination and cultural pressures that come from being raised or heavily involved in such a black and white, dogmatic religion such as the LDS church can cause us to bury otherwise legitimate questions on the grounds of “you shouldn’t talk like that about X/Y/Z.”

The danger for the Church is that, despite a dramatic increase in technology and resources available to the average person, it remains a slow-to-change organization still using explanations from 30 years ago. This will create a vast array of something called “Cognitive Dissonance,” which essentially is what we call the stress or conflict that arises in an individual when they hold two mutually conflicting beliefs. This is the true main character of the story above. Really Julia and Stan represent two halves of a whole person, rather than complete individuals themselves, and the purpose of the story is to raise within the reader these tough questions. That dissonance is what makes answering the question of “would you kill your son given the condition that it was commanded by God?” such a toughie.

On one hand we want to declare “absolutely not! Such an idea is reprehensible!” But on the other hand, out cultural programming sets in and our religious indoctrination urges us to say “no, I will go and I will do.”

I found the piece very intriguing, and it spoke to me in many ways.

I feel that the ‘moral’ for me was an illustration in the mechanisms we each use to rationalize the absurd aspects of our beliefs with our own individual realities. For me, the question is somewhat null, because I feel that any god that would ask me to murder my only child to prove my devotion to him is a god not worth believing in. I simply regard the story of Abraham as a relic of an older version of Judeo-Christian faith that served someone’s purpose millennia ago, but isn’t necessarily something we should still be leaning on today.

If there is a god somewhere out there in the twisting nether of existence, I hardly believe that he is concerned with your devotion being on the level of “willing to commit human sacrifice with one’s own kin” and is probably more caught up in greater issues that exist. The only applicable reason for this story to still exist inside of LDS faith is to, as the story points out, declare our allegiance to our fellow members, and even at that it’s pretty sick.

Very good job, Brett.

A comedy sketch you might like Brett

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YqC73omSk4o

Blain, your concern seems to be that setting aside uncomfortable Scripture stories too lightly carries spiritual risks. I agree. To paraphrase Dorothy Parker, some stories are not to be put aside lightly — after due reflection and prayer, they are to be hurled aside with great force.

The risk in viewing ancient scripture too metaphorically is that it does risk ending up with you worshipping your own personal “Buddy Jesus” idol. The risk in viewing it too literally is that you may end up with you worshipping someone else’s personal idol.

The question is then — which idol is it more dangerous to worship?

The sins that My Own Personal Idol might license me to commit, are more likely to be retail sins — petty dishonesties, Sabbath casualness, sins of omission in active charity, and so forth. “A disposition to commit [more great and malignant sins] was never in my nature.” It would take some pretty serious self-justification to get my conscience clear with doing someone serious harm — committing murder, or adultery. I would have to be convinced that God himself was giving me a special dispensation. So to adopt a view that God might, like a late Renaissance Jesuit, work around even the most universal commandments of natural law, might increase the risk of my committing a grave sin I would never have otherwise committed. Obtaining greater fortification against the risk of venial sin by lessening my defense against mortal sin, may not be good spiritual underwriting practice.

But maybe the Mormon theology of the eternities (which, unlike the standard heaven-hell division, holds that even “the honorable men of the earth” — those who avoid “great and malignant” sins — fall short of meriting God’s kingdom) alters the equation. Maybe exaltation requires something like going “all in” in poker — risking everything on one turn of pitch-and-toss, accepting the risk of doing grave evil not actually in God’s name, as the price of offering absolute obedience to God.

However, I’ve been able to be closely familiar with the personal moral lives of people on either side of the literalist/non-literalist divide, and danged if I can see any difference in their spirituality or commitment to holiness.

And I’m objecting to describing every error in the text as a problem of being “translated correctly.” I did not bring that to the table.

It’s a non-traditional use of the word “translate,” to be sure. Though the defenders of the antiquity of the Book of Abraham have pretty much waived the objection to alternative understandings of that word.

As for “bluntness,” fire away with as much as you think useful, provided you’re willing to take equally blunt knocks in return. If I may be so blunt, “May the fleas of a thousand camels infest your armpits.”

Just a few months ago the Sunday School teacher asked my mother while my wife and I sat in the same room how she would feel if God commanded her to sacrifice her first-born son (me). My mom immediately started sobbing, even though it was a hypothetical question.

I had always been uncomfortable with the Abraham and Issac story, but that was the clincher. Something is seriously messed up with this story and so my wife and I have categorically rejected it as a factual story and have started re-evaluating it from the ground up. We really haven’t come up with any answers, either. This paradoxical, incredibly ironic story in the Bible continues to baffle us.

Ted, that raises an interesting point: As to the question of whether the Book of Mormon is an ancient document, the correct approach is to trust your intuition over any contrary empirical evidence. However, when it comes to evaluating a story like Abraham’s, even if you have a powerful sense that there’s something terribly wrong with the way it’s now presented, you’re supposed to suppress it, and swallow it down — lest you end up worshipping a lame Episcopalian-style “Buddy Jesus.”

@Thomas/Blaine Just want to thank you both for your comments — they were very insightful and helped me have some clarity on this issue.

I think I can now pretty understand how one becomes a suicide bomber, as long as your willing to turn over all sense of what you believe to be right/wrong to another person then there is nothing that is going to far because the very sense of what is right/wrong is completely defined by that other person. For me this is contrary to the Holy Ghost which I shall now rely on more than any written/spoken word no matter who utters it. And if the Holy Ghost wants me to do something he better make me actually believe that its the right thing to do, not just simply obey which in all my experience is exactly how it works for me.

Wow, reminds me of a usual nightly conversation between my wife and I – ie, she’s all emotional and angry and hysterical, not about killing our children

We are all in some ways asked to sacrifice our children and family when we are given callings. How often do we go out and think, do I have to do this calling; I could be home playing the X-Box with the kids? There are other examples but this is enough for you to get the idea.

As far as actual sacrifice/killing, Jesus said that we should have Him and God as our first priority and that if needs be we should sacrifice our family, friends and even our life for this. Most would read this as being similar to the example I wrote above, but I think it also goes further. God has a plan for all and sometimes we will be asked to do difficult things.

For me, though, it would have to be either from an angel or directly/face-to-face from the prophet for me to believe such a thing. A Stake Pres or Bishop is not ‘official’ enough for something this extreme.

But as someone else mentioned, for Abraham and Isaac this was a test of faith. Since we have their history and we know the outcome as well as we know God does not want human sacrifice, it will end up not being a test of faith for us.