Well, surely it was kinder to lie? Anyway, the point is he could have given his child a barbiturates injection that he died in sleep. As I said, it's about the sacrifice of his son, not about the knife and the altar. It's not pretty, but we're not supposed to like it. We all know the world's not a pretty place, much of the time?Also, he lies to the child about his real intentions. This story goes very deep.
It sounds horrible. I do believe we have to make the effort to get over childhood stuff as we get older -- as a stick to beat the Bible/God with, I mean? I went to boys only boarding school from the age of 7yrs. Jesuits. First nuns and later priests.Back in childhood and adolescence, I was more in the other situation, of being the sacrificial token confidant of adult parents in a dysfunctional relationship with each other. So that was what I got from the story from early on.
We came from farms hundreds of miles from the nearest city. Most of us were boarders. Dormitories sleeping about 40 boys, with a metal locker each, We had to make our beds and polish our shoes. If we reported sick we really had to be sick. I was called by my surname, never my first name. Everybody was.
We showered together and ate together, there was always threat of corporal punishment, and we were bullied all the time by the seniors. Never a moment of privacy. I was saturated with religion all the time.
But as I said before: it didn't make me a poor abused child. And it didn't turn me against religion. It gave me a respect for the value of religion in what was actually quite a tough life. It taught me to think for myself.
There was enough regimentation and discipline every day, that it was my own right to my own mind that was my real privacy. No-one was going to tell me what I had to believe. I could pretend to agree, but my thoughts were my own.
(edited, sorry)
Yuk! Pig's blood. I'd rather starve ...Spiritual purity cannot be achieved by eating black pudding ...
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