The Topsy-Turvy World of Beliefs

Faith, Rebellion, and the Paradoxes of Devotion

Religious narratives are among humanity’s oldest attempts to interpret the mysteries of existence, morality, and humanity’s role in the cosmos. These stories shape and reflect what societies deem virtuous, sinful, faithful, or rebellious. However, when placed side by side, some religious stories seem to suggest a world of paradox—a “topsy-turvy” realm where the same actions, judged in different contexts or traditions, are framed as either supreme obedience or ultimate defiance.

Two such tales stand out as compelling examples: Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice his son at God’s command and Tawûsê Melek’s refusal to worship Adam. Despite their intriguing similarities as narratives of fidelity to God, they are often interpreted in polar opposite ways. For many in the Abrahamic tradition, Abraham’s test of faith is hailed as the pinnacle of obedience and trust in God’s plan, while Tawûsê Melek’s refusal is condemned as an archetype of satanic rebellion. The question is: why are these two acts judged so differently by adherents of the same theological framework?

Abraham and the Sacrifice: The Ultimate Act of Faith

The story of Abraham, known in Islamic tradition as Ibrahim, and his willingness to sacrifice his son is one of the foundational tales in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. According to the story, God commands Abraham to offer his son—Isaac in the Judeo-Christian tradition, or Ishmael in most Islamic interpretations—as a burnt offering. This request, shocking in its extremity, would test any parent’s faith. Abraham does not waver. With heavy but resolute steps, he leads his son to the altar, knife in hand, ready to obey the divine command.

At the last moment, God intervenes, sending an angel to stop Abraham and providing a ram to be sacrificed instead. The test is complete, and Abraham’s faith is deemed unshakable. This willingness to kill one’s own child for his God is recast as a profound example of Abraham’s devotion and trust in his God’s will, despite the immorality and cruelty involved. The willingness to carry out one’s duty to this ‘God’, even a horrific one, is counted as righteousness. Abraham passes the test and is rewarded for his obedience. For believers, this story is a cornerstone of sacrificial faith: Abraham demonstrates total trust that his God’s wisdom surpasses his own understanding. By prioritising his God’s will, even over his natural, human love for his child, Abraham is heralded as the epitome of faithfulness, devotion, and obedience.

Yet, to an observer unfamiliar with Abrahamic theology, the story raises unsettling questions. Why would God demand such an act? Were Abraham’s unquestioning obedience and willingness to kill his son truly moral, or was this simply blind submission? The triumph of faith in this narrative hinges on the acceptance of his God’s complete sovereignty—a belief that requires no justification for divine commands, no matter how ethically perplexing they may appear.

Tawûsê Melek and the Refusal to Worship Adam: Faith or Rebellion?

In Yazidism, a monotheistic religion with ancient roots in the Middle East, a story about a being named Tawûsê Melek presents a strikingly similar theme of divine testing but leads to a profoundly different interpretation. Tawûsê Melek, the Peacock Angel, is a central figure in Yazidi cosmology. According to Yazidi tradition, God created the angels and later brought Adam into existence. God then commanded the angels to bow before Adam as a demonstration of their obedience.

Tawûsê Melek, however, refused to comply. His reasoning was anchored in loyalty to God: he argued that as God alone is worthy of worship, he would bow to no other being, including Adam. Seeing this as an act of profound devotion, God ultimately praised Tawûsê Melek for his steadfastness and made him the chief of the angels.

Yet in many retellings of this story outside Yazidi tradition, primarily within Islamic and Christian frameworks, Tawûsê Melek has been conflated with Satan, the archetype of rebellion. His refusal to bow to Adam is interpreted as prideful defiance rather than faithfulness, earning him condemnation. In these interpretations, Tawûsê Melek stands in stark contrast to Abraham, who is exalted for his obedience in a similarly extreme test of loyalty.

Reconciling the Paradox: Two Narratives, Two Lenses

So on one hand, Abraham is praised for his eagerness to commit infanticide when his God commands it. On the other hand, Tawûsê Melek is condemned as the devil for not worshipping a mere mortal man when God demands it. This reveals the topsy-turvy moral and logical inconsistencies that pervade religious beliefs.

Why is Abraham celebrated for choosing his God over his personal, human attachments, while Tawûsê Melek is condemned for choosing God over God’s command? The answer lies in the interpretive frameworks that underpin these stories—how traditions define the meaning of “faith” and “rebellion,” and how ultimate loyalty is framed within their theological constructs.

Abraham’s story seems to promote the idea that one must unthinkingly follow any order from a spirit being claiming to be God, no matter how depraved. Obedience to this perceived God is the highest virtue, even to the extent of betraying one’s own moral compass and values. It is a promotion of blind faith over reason.

In Abraham’s tale, faith is defined as obedience. Abraham’s willingness to place his God’s will above his own ethical instincts and emotional ties is seen as the ultimate proof of submission. The tradition holds that his God’s commands are inherently good, even if they defy human understanding. Under this paradigm, questioning his God’s actions or motives is tantamount to doubt, and doubt undermines faith.

In contrast, Tawûsê Melek’s story operates on a different principle: faith is defined as discernment and loyalty to the divine essence rather than blind adherence to commands. For Yazidis, Tawûsê Melek’s refusal to bow to Adam is a demonstration of higher wisdom—remaining true to the principle that only God is worthy of worship, even if that meant appearing disobedient to God’s explicit directive. For outside traditions that interpret submission to supposed ‘divine command’ as the highest virtue, this act is viewed as defiant, prideful, and self-serving—traits often ascribed to Satan in the Abrahamic worldview.

What is the logical explanation for this glaring double standard? It is that religious belief often operates on an alternate plane, where the normal rules of ethics, consistency and reason do not apply. The only guiding principle is that whatever Abraham’s God commands is right by definition, even if it would normally be considered wrong. Greater evils can be justified under the guise of “God’s will.”

At the same time, any dissent from a divine decree is framed as rebellious defiance, even if based on biblical commandments like monotheism. This kind of religious belief is about surrendering one’s mind and unquestioningly accepting what one is told – Tawûsê Melek showed too much free will and original thought for that.

Ultimately, this reveals the incoherence of a worldview where morality is derived from arbitrary supposed ‘divine fiat’ rather than human reason or conscience. Abraham’s story and Tawûsê Melek’s story collectively demonstrate the intellectual and moral contradictions at the heart of religious faith. Blind obedience to Abraham’s questionable ‘God’ is elevated above adherence to one’s own moral principles. As such, religious belief can be used to justify limitless cruelty and error, as we see throughout history.

The veneration of Abraham and the demonisation of Tawûsê Melek points to the dark authoritarian undercurrent in some religious thought. It is a warning about the dangers of a belief system that teaches people they must obey their ‘God’s’ commands unquestioningly, even when they’re wrong. Until we can largely reject this pernicious idea of faith in favour of a human-centred ethics, we will continue to see evils committed in religion’s name. Personally, I think it’s vital for us to be in the habit of questioning and doubting the character of any supposed spirit being who commands blood sacrifice, whether human or animal.

This divergence illustrates how profoundly one’s cultural and theological context shapes the lens through which these stories are interpreted. And it raises an uncomfortable question: are faith and rebellion as inherently opposed as they seem, or is the line between them subjective, determined by the narratives we choose to uphold?

The Curious Mirror of Interpretation

Abraham and Tawûsê Melek are, in many ways, mirrors of each other—complex characters faced with impossible tests of loyalty. Their actions provoke profound reflection on the nature of faith, obedience, and rebellion. Is faith the unquestioning submission to a spirit being or the courageous discernment to honour divine principles even when commands seem contradictory? Is rebellion always synonymous with evil, or can it sometimes represent a more principled form of devotion?

Ultimately, these stories invite us to grapple with the paradoxes of belief. They remind us that the meanings we ascribe to faith and rebellion are often reflections of our own assumptions about divinity, humanity, and morality. Perhaps the greatest lesson for us lies in embracing the humility required to question and explore these issues. In the topsy-turvy world of religious belief, truth may often reside not in the clarity of answers but in the richness of the questions themselves.