Why Abraham’s Call Reveals the Moral Power of Biblical Stories

This lecture delves into the profound significance of biblical stories, particularly the narrative of Abraham, to understand the human condition, the nature of good and evil, and the call to a meaningful life. The speaker, initially drawn to the problem of evil through historical events like Nazi Germany and the Soviet Gulags, found that a purely rationalistic or sociological approach was insufficient. His journey led him to explore the psychological and spiritual dimensions of human behavior, ultimately finding answers in ancient narratives.

The Problem of Evil and the Moral Landscape

The speaker's initial fascination with the problem of evil stemmed from his shock at the atrocities committed in Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union. He realized that understanding such evil required confronting the capacity for it within oneself. This personal introspection was a crucial step, moving beyond external explanations to acknowledge the individual's role in the moral landscape.

He observed that the mere ability to distinguish between good and bad decisions implies inhabiting a moral landscape. This landscape has far-reaching borders defined by good and evil, and every decision, from the mundane to the monumental, is made within this framework. The speaker's study of totalitarianism further solidified his belief that the core issue was not merely political or economic, but deeply psychological. He was particularly interested in how individuals could not only commit terrible acts but also derive enjoyment from them, and how this was possible for seemingly ordinary people.

A pivotal experience was visiting a maximum-security prison, where encounters with inmates, including a seemingly normal man who had brutally murdered two police officers and a psychopathic narcissist, forced him to confront the banality of evil. These experiences, coupled with his reading of Solzhenitsyn, Orwell, and Rand, led him to the conclusion that the capacity for evil is inherent in all individuals. He realized that assuming one is immune to such acts is a dangerous delusion, as history shows that under the right circumstances, most people can be led down a path of atrocity, one small step at a time.

This realization led to two key convictions: 1. The fundamental issue of malevolence is individual. The problem of Nazi Germany, for instance, boils down to the "normal" camp guard who enjoys his work. This forces a personal question: "Is that me, or is that someone else?" If it's "someone else," the problem is externalized and dismissed. If it's "me," it becomes a profound psychological and spiritual challenge. 2. Evil is real, and we have a personal responsibility for it. The sheer scale of suffering in the 20th century's totalitarian states makes the reality of evil undeniable. Furthermore, the pathway to totalitarianism is paved with deception and lies, where individuals lie to themselves and others about everything they think, say, and do. A totalitarian state is not just run by psychopaths, but by a society where the grip of falsehood is complete, making anything possible.

The Transcendent Good and the Power of Stories

The recognition of abysmal evil naturally led to the question of ultimate good. The speaker argues that the dissolution of God or religious belief, as famously proclaimed by Nietzsche, does not eliminate the problem of evil; rather, it highlights the absence of a transcendent good. However, the existence of evil implicitly points to a transcendent good, which is "whatever gets you the farthest possible away from that."

This understanding led him to the realization that the landscape of good and evil is the landscape of stories. Stories, he explains, vary in their depth, with deeper stories having a more profound impact on our perception and understanding. The deepest stories, by definition, are religious.

The domain of the religious is characterized by experiences of awe—whether from observing the night sky, the Grand Canyon, or falling in love. These experiences reveal "what's beyond" and are not mere propositions but profound encounters. Stories often revolve around what inspires awe, and admiring someone deeply is a form of awe, leading to a compulsion to imitate, which is akin to worship.

The speaker then turned to psychoanalysis, particularly the works of Freud and Jung, and mythology to understand how stories distill and purify the moral landscape. He explains that when we engage with the world, we constantly prioritize our attention, choosing what to focus on and what to ignore. This prioritization is a reflection of our values. Our character and personality are stable representations of this habitual sifting of the world through a structure of value.

Stories, therefore, are crucial because they show us how others prioritize their attention and actions. This is why we are drawn to them; they offer invaluable insights into human character and the consequences of different choices. A well-crafted villain, for example, is a distillation of villainy, representing the essence of what makes many individuals villainous. This purification of the moral landscape provides a powerful, generalizable tool for understanding.

The deepest distillations, he reiterates, are religious characterizations. The ultimate fictional character, in this sense, becomes a god. This is not to reduce religion to mere fiction but to highlight that fictionalization, at its best, is an abstraction that sifts and winnows reality to its purified essence, making it "the most real, not the least." The biblical corpus, in particular, offers a series of characterizations: an inquiry into what should be placed highest, and a depiction of humanity's relationship to that highest ideal. This distillation has evolved over thousands of years, both in story and in behavior.

Abraham and the Call to Adventure

The lecture then focuses on the story of Abraham, specifically the command: "Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and from thy father's house unto a land that I will show thee." Abraham, at 75, is living a life of infantile satiation, provided for by his wealthy father. This state, the speaker argues, is not true fulfillment. Drawing on Dostoevsky's critique of utopia, he suggests that humans would actively disrupt a hedonistic utopia to introduce something interesting, demonstrating that an effortless, comfortable existence is not what we truly desire. We are not infants in a crib; we are built for romantic adventure.

The story of Abraham offers an optimistic message: it's never too late to embark on this adventure, even after a life of dependency. Just as a good parent encourages their child to leave home and face the world, rather than sheltering them indefinitely, the divine call urges individuals to embrace the challenges of life. True security comes not from protection from "serpents" but from becoming "snake handlers"—courageous, adventurous, and capable of facing whatever comes.

The Nature of God's Voice

In this context, God is presented as the "voice of adventure that calls even to the unwilling." This voice is not a static entity but a dynamic force that manifests in various ways throughout biblical narratives: * The spirit that brings order to chaos (Genesis). * The spirit that punishes second-rate sacrifices (Cain and Abel). * The spirit that warns of impending disaster (Noah). * The spirit that punishes tyrants (Tower of Babel).

These are all conceptualizations of a single, monotheistic "thing that's properly put in the highest place." To have "sense" is to exist in relationship to this thing, devoted to its manifestation in one's life and decisions.

The speaker elaborates on the nature of this "voice" through the story of Moses and the burning bush. Moses, a shepherd, is drawn by something that catches his attention. This "calling" is not random; it's what genuinely interests us, acting as a "portal through which the divine light shines." Our interests are not entirely within our control, suggesting an external force at play. The biblical answer is that "what calls you is God."

This calling is an invitation, pulling us forward. However, interest alone is insufficient; it must be balanced with conscience. Conscience, also characterized as a voice of God, keeps us on the "straight and narrow." The interplay between calling and conscience, both autonomous forces to which we are subject, guides us.

The Promise of Adventure and Sacrifice

The story of Abraham promises that if one fully commits to this voice of adventure, they will become a "great nation," blessed with a "great name," and a "blessing" to all families of the earth. This is a profound offer: by pursuing one's calling with integrity, one's actions can be so beneficial that they uplift everyone. It's a "good deal" that justifies taking risks.

Life, the speaker argues, is inherently risky. The question is not whether to take risks, but what to do with them. The answer is to embrace adventure, an adventure so glorious that it justifies the inherent difficulties and suffering of life. This is what we desire for our children: a life so full and abundant that its cost, even mortality, can be celebrated.

The journey into the "land of Canaan," the promised land, represents moving into the future. This future is inhabited by "Canaanites," descendants of Cain, symbolizing the hedonistic and tyrannical forces that oppose progress. The biblical narrative suggests that if one follows the voice of adventure and makes proper sacrifices, these obstacles will scatter.

This idea is illustrated with the example of a high school sports team. A skilled player who is also a good teammate, who lifts others up and plays fairly, embodies the ideal. We believe that such a person's proper actions will lead to triumph, even if it's not always immediately apparent. This belief reflects our innate understanding that acting properly leads to a better outcome, not just for the individual but for the collective.

Abraham's journey involves continuous advancement, each step requiring a sacrifice. The speaker posits that if these sacrifices are of the "highest possible quality," progress is more rapid and better directed. This involves shedding bad habits, pride, and hedonism—a painful but necessary process.

The ultimate sacrifice in Abraham's story is the willingness to offer his son, Isaac. This terrifying act symbolizes the necessity of giving up "everything to what's highest," even what is most dearly loved. The outcome—Abraham getting his son back—illustrates that the willingness to make the ultimate sacrifice, to offer oneself fully to the highest good, is the most abundant path forward.

This concept echoes the Christian idea of Christ's sacrifice, where the "most pleasing offering to God is yourself." Learning and growth are not merely additive; they involve the painful shedding of what is wrong or unworthy. This "winnowing process" is often resisted because it means allowing parts of ourselves to "die"—a grief that manifests as tears when we realize our errors.

The story of Adam and Eve being cast out of paradise, guarded by a flaming sword, further emphasizes this point. The flaming sword, which cuts and burns in every direction, represents the inescapable force that purifies and removes all that is insufficient. To progress towards paradise, one must allow all unworthy aspects to be sacrificed.

Conclusion: The Infinite Destiny

In summary, stories represent characters in motion, and character is defined by the pattern of attentional prioritization and action. The deepest stories, particularly those in the biblical corpus, offer profound characterizations of what should be placed highest and how humanity relates to it.

The story of Abraham presents humanity as capable of responding to the call of adventure, no matter how sheltered, and God as precisely that call. The underlying message is that the proper, sacrificial heeding of this call leads to an "infinite destiny." The Christian injunction to "pick up your cross and carry it voluntarily" encapsulates this idea: life's adventure and catastrophe are intertwined, and within the catastrophe lie the seeds of adventure. If undertaken with sufficient faith, catastrophe can be averted, leading to a life of profound meaning and purpose.