What’s your ‘myth’?
‘Everybody acts out a myth but very few people know what their myth is.’ To see how this works, consider the ‘myth’ that guides one prominent psychologist, Jordan Peterson, himself. I’m writing here about Abraham, a man in Jewish history, also an archetype, and one that has particular relevance to Peterson’s trajectory. Looking at the life of Abraham, alongside that of Peterson, we observe points of intersection.
The Midrash teaches that Abraham’s father, Terah, sold idols. Initially, Abraham works in the family business. At a certain point, though, he deduces a first cause and designer of the world around him. Then he pulls a stunt: smashing idols, then leaving the mallet at the foot of the remaining one. Abraham tells his dad, “The big one took down the others.” Abraham leaves the family business.
By way of comparison, Peterson’s moment of awakening occurred after years in the socialist movement. At about that time, he came to a realization: his buddies seemed to hate the rich more than they liked the poor. Disenchanted, Peterson was done. Both Abraham and Peterson take leave of their initial stomping ground. Each will set off, trailblazing in a new direction.
The Hebrew Bible recounts that Abraham’s departure from his father’s land will be no picnic. He will face terrible ordeals. So will Peterson.
The Midrash tells us Abraham is sent into a fiery oven by Nimrod, a punishment for challenging the prevailing sensibility of the day. On Peterson’s end, his particular pattern of medical symptoms would normally be described — in the context of Chinese medicine — as triggered by a chronic, unrelenting heat condition.
When Abraham finally arrives in the promised land he is met by famine. Peterson, in comparison, is confronted with health problems that have him giving up virtually every food but meat. Abraham is compelled to wage war on behalf of his nephew, Lot. Peterson gets caught up in a political stance which has him reluctantly pushed into a battle that would ordinarily not be his to wage. Abraham’s wife is abducted by the Pharaoh. Peterson’s wife has a dangerous brush with death. Abraham is called to sacrifice his son. Peterson watches his daughter’s wellness deteriorate as she struggles with juvenile arthritis, followed by improvement, against all odds. And so on.
But the most important similarity is the ultimate vocation of each. Abraham travels near and far in an effort to dismantle the pervading sensibility of the day and to make the compelling case for monotheism. Ditto, Peterson.
Abraham’s initial name, Avrum, is ultimately changed. With one newly added letter, he is now Avraham, which translates as ‘father of a multitude’. Speaking of Peterson, if you read the comments under Peterson’s videos on YouTube you’ve read the myriad of comments like this one:
I want you to know that your words and ideas have helped me become the father I need to be to break the chain of poverty, addiction and abuse that plagues my family tree so that my children can have a better life than I had. You have helped me find meaning in my life; to improve myself so that those who come after can have a better chance . . . You are more of a father to me than any other mortal man has ever been.
In 2020, one young man took it upon himself to make a Father’s Day video for Peterson, splicing together Father’s Day greetings from people around the world, just some who experience Peterson as father figure, par excellance.
Even now, Peterson continues doling out classic insights that source from the Judeo-Christian sensibility, awakening reverence, morality and a sense of personal responsibility, all of which are reminiscent of the worldview that characterized an era long gone. And with the announcement of Peterson’s 2022 world speaking tour, he dusts off, and, in the Abrahamic tradition, gets back to the job at hand.
But the question remains: what is your myth?
And here is the last and most important point. Reviewing the Hebrew Bible, note that at the outset, G-d was chatty, speaking, we read, to Adam, Cain and Noah. Then what? Crickets! For 2000 years!
Until . . . the Al-mighty issues a direct command to Avrum: “Go (to yourself), go from your land, from your relatives, from your father’s house, to the land I will show you.” (Genesis 12–1)
Was there really no one else G-d could talk to? Not one person over the course of 2000 years?
One commentator gives the answer: in a subtle way, G-d speaks to literally everyone, every day. It is always the same message, too.
“Go (to yourself), go from your land, from your relatives, from your father’s house, to the land I will show you.”
Abraham was the only one who listened.
Lech Lecha. Go . . . to yourself. Leave the neurosis of childhood, ditch the dominant narrative of the day, walk away from the grip of prevailing cultural trends.
Anyone?
The task, mind you, is rather intimidating. Who would willingly undergo multiple ordeals? And what exactly does it mean to ‘be perfect and walk before G-d’, as achieved by Abraham, and described in Genesis?
Beethoven helps us here. He said,
“There is no loftier mission than to approach the Divinity nearer than other men and to disseminate the divine rays among mankind.”
Abraham did it. Peterson does it. And you can, too.
