Original Meaning
Birth of Cain and Abel (4:1–2)
INTERESTING DISCUSSION HAS surrounded verse 1 on a number of points. Was the conception of Cain prior to the Fall or subsequent to it (or, as those who see the Fall as involving sexual intercourse may suggest, a direct result of it)? What is the nature of Eve’s postpartum response? These questions can only be addressed through a study of the syntax and grammar.
The syntax and grammatical form of the first verb suggest a pluperfect translation: The man had lain with his wife and she conceived. This may simply be a vague reference to their past intercourse. Since the text is reporting the birth, the intercourse and conception are in the past. There is nothing in the syntax or grammar that locates intercourse relative to the Fall. If we were to try to identify an allusion to intercourse and conception in chapter 3, the logical choice would be at 3:20. The first intercourse would logically follow the Fall and pronouncement as we have interpreted them and would certainly be a suitable moment to address the naming of Eve.1
Eve’s naming statement is much more difficult to interpret. It is common in the Old Testament for a naming statement to accompany a report of someone’s birth.2 These naming statements typically include a wordplay between the name and something in the circumstances surrounding the birth. Genesis 29:32 serves as a good typical example: “Leah became pregnant and gave birth to a son [birth report]. She named him Reuben [naming formula by mother or father], for she said, ‘It is because the LORD has seen my misery [naming statement including wordplay—here the verb ‘to see’]. Surely my husband will love me now.” Sometimes the order is reversed with the reason for the name given before its citation. The wordplay in 4:1 is between the name Cain (Heb. qayin) and the verb that the NIV translates “brought forth” (Heb. qaniti).
But the sequence is a bit compacted in verse 1. Rather than the expected “She gave birth to a son and called his name Cain,” the text just has “She gave birth to Cain.” This same pattern occurs several other times in this chapter (vv. 17–22), but not in connection with a wordplay that explains the name. There are no other instances of the reason being given for the name without the inclusion of the naming formula. Up until here in Genesis, the act of naming has been an exercise of authority, but there is too little to conclude that the omission of the naming formula suggests breakdown in the authority structure.
Eve’s statement at the end of the verse is problematic on two counts. (1) The verb qnh (NIV “brought forth”; NASB “gotten”; NRSV “produced”) usually means “to acquire” in the Old Testament, though a few passages suggest “to create.”3 Either sense of the verb can be incorporated successfully into this context. (a) “Create” finds support in Ugaritic4 and in the Akkadian bilingual text that speaks of the creatrix deity, Aruru, helping Marduk in the process of creating people.5 On this interpretation, Eve sees herself in the role of cocreatrix through procreation. (b) “Acquire” finds support in Akkadian personal names. In Mesopotamia a name such as Itti-ili ašamšu (“I acquired him from the gods”) attests that such a statement is appropriately expressed in a name. Hebrew names rarely feature prepositions before the divine element6 or first-person statements.7 But note that Eve’s quoted statement does not contain the name itself. Comparison to the Akkadian name shows that Eve’s statement contains a sentiment known in the ancient world—recognition that deity is responsible for granting offspring.
Since either “acquire” or “create” works in this passage, the main interpretive question is whether Eve sees herself as taking part in the creation process (“I have created along with Yahweh”) or as having relied on Yahweh to get through the process (“I have obtained with the help/consent of Yahweh”). In my opinion, the latter should be preferred because this is a more logical affirmation for Eve to make since chapter 3 indicated the anguish that would accompany childbearing and thereby suggests the need to rely on Yahweh throughout the process.
(2) The second problem concerns the translation of the last two Hebrew words, ʾet-yhwh (NIV and most translations, “with the help of the LORD”). (a) The word ʾet can be understood as a preposition, usually translated “with.” However, this translation (“I have acquired a man with the LORD”) doesn’t make much sense. The NIV’s expanded “with the help of” makes sense, but is difficult to support from Hebrew usage of the preposition. (b) The alternative is to treat ʾet as the direct object marker. In that case ʾet-yhwh must be taken appositionally (i.e., “I have acquired a man, that is, the LORD”), as suggested by Luther. This same grammatical construction is used in the next verse, “his brother, Abel.” Grammatically this is not impossible, but it makes for very difficult theology to describe Yahweh as a man. Those who choose this option usually make reference back to 3:15 and speculate that Eve mistakenly believes she has given birth to the Messiah. Even if 3:15 were taken to refer to Messiah (see discussion in ch. 3), it is unique in the Old Testament to refer to the Messiah as Yahweh himself. Such was not the nature of messianic expectation in the Old Testament.
Even though the nuance “with the help of” cannot be substantiated from Hebrew, the usage of the Akkadian cognate itti provides support for such a meaning. In the Akkadian personal name referred to above, the preposition itti is properly translated “from.” There is also an Akkadian occurrence in which a battle is lost itti DINGIR-lim, “with (the consent of) the gods.”8 Since the Akkadian cognate preposition itti has a comparable semantic range as the Hebrew preposition ʾet, either of these nuances can legitimately be used in Genesis. In conclusion, then, the NIV translation is about the best that can be done given the current state of the data.
Bridging Contexts
AS WE SEEK to understand the focus of this text, it is important to note its economy on certain issues and its expansiveness on others. For instance, we have noted the lack of clear indication concerning why Cain’s sacrifice was unacceptable or Abel’s acceptable, how or where God communicated, how Cain lured Abel to his death, or what Cain’s mark was. Genesis 4 does not intend to offer instruction for sacrifices; it only gives the barest essentials necessary for the dialogues to take place. Dialogue has a more central role than plot.
The issues referred to above are important to us as interpreters in that they direct us through the narrative, but they are not so to the author. He refuses to digress into inconsequential details. His reticence to digress (better understood as a determination to stay focused) is not an invitation for us to speculate about the gaps or lament the omission of details. We need to practice the discipline of reading the lines instead of reading between the lines. A successful interpretation is not the one that fills in the gaps most persuasively; it is the one that lets the gaps remain gaps and articulates the cohesiveness of the text as it stands.
Most of the chapters in Genesis either document the advance of sin or the advance of blessing. This section starts out with a blessing focus, but that is quickly preempted by a sin focus. The blessing, as modified in the pronouncement of chapter 3, indicated that humans would be able to procure offspring and food as they depended on God’s help. Eve’s statement in verse 1 began with acknowledgment of a child from the Lord, and the offerings of verse 3 show acknowledgment of food from the Lord. But even as Cain makes a pretense of offering gratitude, the nature of his offering somehow betrays an underlying dissatisfaction. The situation escalates quickly to jealousy and murder, and sin takes center stage.
In this second narrative of sin, we see the tragic descent from Adam and Eve’s sin. Eve was envious of God (3:4–6), Cain was envious of Abel. Eve’s actions can be seen in quasi-noble terms (wanting to be like God), while Cain’s action has nothing noble about it. Perhaps decline into sin sometimes begins with rationalization or pretensions of nobility. But, as with Cain’s bitter violence against his brother, in the end all that is left is seething self-indulgence.
This episode not only shows an increased level of depravity, but it also shows the effects of sin infiltrating into new areas. In chapter 3, the blessing was affected by obstacles that interfered with procuring family and procuring food. In chapter 4, family (the result of procuring children) is disrupted by murder and exile. Just as Cain is cut off from his family, he is cut off from food supply. The blessing is therefore further hindered, but still is not retracted. As 4:17–22 goes on to show, Cain still is able to have a family, and the lack of agricultural success is offset by technological development.
If chapter 3 represents the fall of humankind, chapter 4 represents the fall of the family. If chapter 3 shows the infiltration of sin into the human race, chapter 4 documents the impact of sin on the family. Sin brings internal strife to the family and eventual alienation among members of the family. The ramifications of this are not only evidenced in the events that transpire in this chapter. Its subtleties begin to be revealed when Cain poses the rhetorical question, “Am I my brother’s keeper?”
The word “keeper” translates the Hebrew šamar, which we have already encountered twice before in chapters 2–3. It was one of the terms in the original job description of Adam in 2:15 and was used in the job description of the cherubim in 3:24. It is a word that concerns responsibility. People lost the job of being responsible for the sacred space of the garden, and the tree had to be guarded from them when they were cast out. Now Cain has denied any sense of responsibility for his own family, even though he is directly responsible for Abel’s death. When we refuse to accept responsibility, we have paved the way for refusing to accept blame. In this process, accountability has already begun to disintegrate.
Contemporary Significance
OUR ATTENTION WILL ultimately focus on God, but we will travel through Cain’s territory to arrive there, as the text does, for we can only appreciate the depth of God’s character as it is seen alongside of the shallow depravity of Cain.
A true story is told in the setting of New Orleans in the 1980s by policeman John Dillman.14 Two men had contrived a get-rich-quick scheme. One of them developed a relationship with and married an innocent young woman and took out a sizeable insurance policy on her life. During their honeymoon he took her for a walk and, just as his accomplice was driving by in a rental car, pushed her to her death under the wheels of the speeding vehicle. The suspicions of the insurance company eventually brought the two conspirators to trial. What struck Dillman as unbelievable during the trial was the total lack of remorse on the part of the two criminals. What reminds me of Cain is the next part of the description by Plantinga:
Pointing to the way the police kept interfering in their lives by pursuing, interrogating, and charging them, the two men complained that they were themselves the real victims in this whole affair and implied that they ought to be not punished but consoled.15
In this illustration can be seen one of the most insidious aspects of human fallenness: a refusal to be held accountable.
Effects of sin.
Our nature. When we refuse to take responsibility for our sin, to accept blame for the consequences of our actions, and to be held accountable for what we do and say, we burn down the bridges of reconciliation. The only way back to reconciliation, forgiveness, and God has as its first step a recognition of the problem and repentant desire to do something about it. To put the problem another way, distance from God is not just because we sin; it is because we enjoy sin, cherish sinful ways, even protect our right to sin, and resist any attempt to harness our depravity.
In the 1999 film The Matrix, astonishing for its theological framework (and at the same time, distressing for its depictions of violence), the reality we all experience is portrayed as artificially produced by intelligent computers that are dependent on human beings for the supply of their energy needs. Though every human is in reality in a comatose state sustained in egg-shaped containers filled with amniotic-like fluid, impulses to the brain create all the sensations of living. These electronic impulses give them a sense of identity, create the sensations of eating, and do everything else to maintain the deception. This system that creates the electronic facsimile of existence is the matrix. People are unaware of the matrix and believe that the existence they are experiencing is reality, and that it is all there is. One of the characters describes it this way:
The matrix is everywhere, it is all around us. . . . It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth . . . that you are a slave . . . born into bondage, born into a prison that you cannot smell or taste or touch; a prison for your mind.
In a similar way, today we live in a fallen world where sin is the matrix. It controls all that we do or think though we often choose to be unaware of its presence. It is pervasive and insidious in every way, and most people go about their lives not realizing that the world of sin is not the real world. In the film a resistance group has broken free of the matrix and seeks to subvert it, bring people out of it, and eventually destroy it. But there is one Judas in the group, who has become bored with the hard realities of the resistance movement and betrays the group in order to get back into the matrix. He chooses slavery rather than to give up its benefits:
I know that this steak doesn’t exist. I know that when I put it in my mouth the matrix is telling my brain that it is juicy and delicious. After nine years [with the resistance] you know what I realize? Ignorance is bliss!
Likewise, many, like Cain, would choose not to leave the sin matrix, having become too attached to their sinful and selfish ways. As Zacharias observes, “Evil is not just where blood has been spilled. Evil is in the self-absorbed human heart.”16 And the violence a person commits soaks into the heart and corrupts.
Violence harms the one who does it as much as the one who receives it. You could cut down a tree with your axe. . . . Wood is soft compared to steel, but the sharp steel is dulled as it chops, and the sap of the tree will rust and pit it. The mighty axe does violence to the helpless tree, and is harmed by it. So it is with men, though the harm is in the spirit.17
Thus, through Cain, we come to understand more of the nature of depravity. Sin forms the matrix of our artificial existence in which spiritual realities seem distant. Even given the chance, we often choose not to leave the matrix. Our reluctance to fully take account of the reality of the spiritual world allows us to condone our own selfish behavior, refusing to take responsibility for the spiritual ramifications of our behavior. It is not surprising, then, that we find only despair as we discover the inevitability of evil. We live in Cain’s world and follow in his footsteps.
Family and society. Sin does not just impact our relationship with God; it impacts our relationship to our families and the people around us. The hardened man of the world has been heard to say, “I may as well go to hell, all my friends will be there.” One of the problems with that reasoning is that it fails to recognize our inherent dysfunctionality. There are no dysfunctional relationships in heaven, and by its very definition “relationship” is a paradox that hell cannot afford. It is not enough for sin to deprave each and every individual. Sinful people inevitably result in dysfunctional families and societies. The best families and the best friendships are only shadows of what relationships should be and could be but for sin.
Sin’s impact in Cain’s relationships is that he became jealous of his brother’s success and ended up becoming an outcast. Both of these impacts are related to the issues of attention and acceptance. It is in our nature to crave attention and acceptance from others. This craving can motivate socially acceptable behavior and even high levels of achievement. But it is fragile because it can also lead to destructive behavior and calculated failure. So it is, for instance, that anorexia can linger in the shadow of success and accomplishment.
In the 1970s, when my peers were imbibing the rebellious hard rock of Jethro Tull, Carlos Santana, and Sly and the Family Stone, I was enjoying the rich harmony of the easy listening music of the Carpenters (much to the chagrin of my college roommates). Karen and Richard Carpenter were talented musicians and attractive individuals who radiated wholesomeness and health. Blessed with talent, fame, fortune, good looks, and all the rest, one could hardly imagine a more desirable condition. Undoubtedly insiders had foreseen for some time what the world was shocked by on February 4, 1983, when it was announced that Karen Carpenter had died at the age of 32 as a result of a heart attack brought on as a complication of anorexia nervosa. Karen Carpenter’s need for acceptance by her audience, her family, and herself did not lead her to destroy someone else; instead, it led her to destroy herself.
Today anorexia continues to claim those troubled with insecurity, and suicide becomes an option for those who have not received the attention they need. At other times, the destructive behavior targets others, as Cain did. Shootings at middle schools and high schools are becoming so commonplace that we are no longer shocked or horrified that such a thing happens. Kids who feel rejected by their classmates or perhaps neglected by their parents find this a shocking way to attract attention.
How can we combat the insecurity that results from the sin that permeates our fallen world? In Genesis 4, the text is not offering solutions, it is describing the problem. There is no final solution to insecurity as long as there is sin, and the only solution to sin is that provided by God through Jesus, as recorded in the New Testament.
Character of God. As we observe the character of God in this passage, a couple of startling realities can be observed. First, we must be struck with the fact that Cain does not receive the death penalty. It seems a stark contrast to a passage such as 2 Samuel 6:6–7:
When they came to the threshing floor of Nacon, Uzzah reached out and took hold of the ark of God, because the oxen stumbled. The LORD’s anger burned against Uzzah because of his irreverent act; therefore God struck him down and he died there beside the ark of God.
Why does the Lord’s anger not burn against Cain? Undoubtedly it did. But though capital punishment was the way God directed Israel to respond to murder cases, it is not always the way God chooses (see, e.g., 2 Sam. 11–12). Already we see a God who holds justice in his right hand and mercy in his left. God is depicted as patient and conciliatory toward Cain as he grows angry over the sacrifice. God is encouraging in the context of failure. In their second conversation, after Cain’s crime has been committed, God shows his concern and demonstrates his grace.
So begins the Bible’s quest. We need to know God, and the Bible is his story. Genesis 4 is only secondarily the story of Cain and Abel; it is primarily part of God’s story. When we first come to know someone, we do so by relating parts of our stories to one another. The first pages we open include our name, our hometown, and other basic information. As we move from acquaintances to friends, we unfold more and more of our stories to each other. We discover likes and dislikes, past history, present struggles and joys, and future hopes and dreams. We gauge how well we know a person by how much we know of his or her story. When people come to love one another, they want to know every story and delight in hearing those stories over and over.18
How can we come to know God? By relating stories to one another. God relates his story through his Word; we relate our stories through prayer. God’s story is intended to help us get to know him. When we see his attributes in action, we come to understand the implications of those attributes. If I were to boast of a friend’s kindness, my assessment would be most persuasive if I were able to tell of some of the incidents in which that kindness was evident in unique ways.
Once in an initial conversation with a real-estate agent, we discovered we had a mutual acquaintance. My statement that this mutual acquaintance was a good friend could have been understood at various levels. But when I elaborated by saying that his family lived at our house for three weeks while their house was being remodeled, the person had a lot better idea of the level of our friendship. So it is with God. It is not enough to say simply that he is sovereign, just, faithful, loving, gracious, compassionate, or anything else. We know God by hearing his story and by hearing others tell of things he has done. We know God by seeing his attributes in action and thereby gaining insight into the warp and woof of his character.
We have all experienced forgiveness from God, but for many of us, the experience may have lacked the poignancy of being caught red-handed, standing face-to-face with God. If that is so, perhaps we can only come to appreciate such bold grace secondarily. Such poignancy is powerfully captured in Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables. Jean Valjean, the subject of the novel, steals a loaf of bread. As a result he spends nineteen years in prison and, when finally released, finds it difficult to escape his past. On one occasion, taken in by the kindly Monseigneur Bienvenue, he finds himself unable to resist temptation and, in the middle of the night, steals away with a cache of silverware. He does not get far before being throttled by the police. The next day he is hauled back to the house to return the valuables. He is startled at the Monseigneur Bishop’s response.19
“Ah! here you are!” he exclaimed, looking at Jean Valjean. “I am glad to see you. Well, but how is this? I gave you the candlesticks too, which are of silver like the rest, and for which you can certainly get two hundred francs. Why did you not carry them away with your forks and spoons?”
“My friend,” resumed the Bishop, “before you go, here are your candlesticks. Take them.” He stepped to the chimney-piece, took the two silver candlesticks, and brought them to Jean Valjean. Jean Valjean was trembling in every limb. He took the two candlesticks mechanically, with a bewildered air [and] was like a man on the point of fainting.
The Bishop drew near to him, and said in a low voice: “Do not forget, never forget, that you have promised to use this money in becoming an honest man.”
Jean Valjean, who had no recollection of ever having promised anything, remained speechless. The Bishop had emphasized the words when he uttered them. He resumed with solemnity: “Jean Valjean, my brother, you no longer belong to evil, but to good. It is your soul that I buy from you; I withdraw it from black thoughts and the spirit of perdition, and I give it to God.”
This indeed becomes the turning point in Valjean’s life, and the remainder of the novel traces the reverberations of grace in his life. When we read this account of mercy and compassion and see its impact in the recipient’s life, we are appropriately bewildered and awestruck. How much more should we be in awe of God’s mercy and compassion. We can never know whether Cain responded with such gratitude to God, though his initial response might suggest not. But it is irrelevant how Cain responded. What is important is how we respond once we are impressed with the power of God’s mercy and grace.
Original Meaning
The Sacrifice (4:3–5)
IN POPULAR CIRCLES, the tradition that Cain’s offering is unacceptable since it is not a blood sacrifice is still common, despite the fact that no major evangelical commentary on Genesis in the last several decades endorses it. The offerings that Cain and Abel bring are both described in the text by the term minḥa. Leviticus 2 discusses the minḥa, where the NIV translates it as “grain offering.” Its purpose is simply to give a gift to honor deity and is usually given in a context of celebration. It often accompanies an animal sacrifice but is usually comprised of grain. Outside ritual contexts, minḥa can be used in personal or political senses. In political contexts it refers to tribute paid from a vassal or subordinate state to the overlord (2 Kings 17:3–4). When individual persons are involved, the term refers to a gift to give deference or honor (Gen. 32:18; 43:11; 2 Kings 8:9). These usages are duplicated in cognates across Semitic languages.9
Consequently, the problem with Cain’s sacrifice clearly does not have anything to do with the absence of blood. Fruit and vegetable offerings are as appropriate for a minḥa as animal offerings. Moreover, note that even Abel’s offering is described in terms of “fat portions” with no reference to blood. Finally, blood is usually used in the sacrificial system to accomplish kpr (NIV “atonement”). Genesis 4 neither mentions a need for kpr nor the procurement of it for Abel. Also, the blood from a sacrifice was typically applied to one of the sancta in the temple, and there are no sancta to cleanse here. We must look elsewhere to identify the fault in Cain’s offering.
Abel chooses his offering from the firstborn of his flock (v. 4). Cain’s offering is not specifically criticized for its poor quality, but neither does the text specify that it is from the firstfruits. It is true that the firstfruits are to be set aside for the Lord under the law (Ex. 23:19; Neh. 10:35), but fruit that was not firstfruits could legitimately be given to the Lord (Neh. 10:37). Genesis 4 does not indicate that Cain failed or refused to bring firstfruits. Furthermore, under the law the firstfruits were usually given to the priests (Num. 18:12–13), so that would be of little significance in this context, there being no officiating priest.
In the end, the only thing the text makes clear is that Cain, in some way, does not “do what [was] right” (v. 7). Whatever the cause of Cain’s rejection, the text is more interested in his response to it than it is in delineating the details. The offense under scrutiny is the murder of Abel, not the unacceptable offering. The offering scenario is recounted only as far as is necessary to set the stage for the murder.
We must be equally noncommittal regarding the means by which God’s acceptance or nonacceptance is indicated. One common interpretation suggests that the smoke of Abel’s sacrifice went up while the smoke of Cain’s went down, but this is spurious speculation. There is no terminology here that even suggests something is being burnt.10 It is not impossible that God continued to meet with Adam and Eve and their children at the edge of the garden and may have personally conveyed his pleasure or displeasure, though the text admittedly falls short of suggesting this. Nevertheless, verses 6–16 imply face-to-face meetings.
Bridging Contexts
AS WE SEEK to understand the focus of this text, it is important to note its economy on certain issues and its expansiveness on others. For instance, we have noted the lack of clear indication concerning why Cain’s sacrifice was unacceptable or Abel’s acceptable, how or where God communicated, how Cain lured Abel to his death, or what Cain’s mark was. Genesis 4 does not intend to offer instruction for sacrifices; it only gives the barest essentials necessary for the dialogues to take place. Dialogue has a more central role than plot.
The issues referred to above are important to us as interpreters in that they direct us through the narrative, but they are not so to the author. He refuses to digress into inconsequential details. His reticence to digress (better understood as a determination to stay focused) is not an invitation for us to speculate about the gaps or lament the omission of details. We need to practice the discipline of reading the lines instead of reading between the lines. A successful interpretation is not the one that fills in the gaps most persuasively; it is the one that lets the gaps remain gaps and articulates the cohesiveness of the text as it stands.
Most of the chapters in Genesis either document the advance of sin or the advance of blessing. This section starts out with a blessing focus, but that is quickly preempted by a sin focus. The blessing, as modified in the pronouncement of chapter 3, indicated that humans would be able to procure offspring and food as they depended on God’s help. Eve’s statement in verse 1 began with acknowledgment of a child from the Lord, and the offerings of verse 3 show acknowledgment of food from the Lord. But even as Cain makes a pretense of offering gratitude, the nature of his offering somehow betrays an underlying dissatisfaction. The situation escalates quickly to jealousy and murder, and sin takes center stage.
In this second narrative of sin, we see the tragic descent from Adam and Eve’s sin. Eve was envious of God (3:4–6), Cain was envious of Abel. Eve’s actions can be seen in quasi-noble terms (wanting to be like God), while Cain’s action has nothing noble about it. Perhaps decline into sin sometimes begins with rationalization or pretensions of nobility. But, as with Cain’s bitter violence against his brother, in the end all that is left is seething self-indulgence.
This episode not only shows an increased level of depravity, but it also shows the effects of sin infiltrating into new areas. In chapter 3, the blessing was affected by obstacles that interfered with procuring family and procuring food. In chapter 4, family (the result of procuring children) is disrupted by murder and exile. Just as Cain is cut off from his family, he is cut off from food supply. The blessing is therefore further hindered, but still is not retracted. As 4:17–22 goes on to show, Cain still is able to have a family, and the lack of agricultural success is offset by technological development.
If chapter 3 represents the fall of humankind, chapter 4 represents the fall of the family. If chapter 3 shows the infiltration of sin into the human race, chapter 4 documents the impact of sin on the family. Sin brings internal strife to the family and eventual alienation among members of the family. The ramifications of this are not only evidenced in the events that transpire in this chapter. Its subtleties begin to be revealed when Cain poses the rhetorical question, “Am I my brother’s keeper?”
The word “keeper” translates the Hebrew šamar, which we have already encountered twice before in chapters 2–3. It was one of the terms in the original job description of Adam in 2:15 and was used in the job description of the cherubim in 3:24. It is a word that concerns responsibility. People lost the job of being responsible for the sacred space of the garden, and the tree had to be guarded from them when they were cast out. Now Cain has denied any sense of responsibility for his own family, even though he is directly responsible for Abel’s death. When we refuse to accept responsibility, we have paved the way for refusing to accept blame. In this process, accountability has already begun to disintegrate.
Contemporary Significance
OUR ATTENTION WILL ultimately focus on God, but we will travel through Cain’s territory to arrive there, as the text does, for we can only appreciate the depth of God’s character as it is seen alongside of the shallow depravity of Cain.
A true story is told in the setting of New Orleans in the 1980s by policeman John Dillman.14 Two men had contrived a get-rich-quick scheme. One of them developed a relationship with and married an innocent young woman and took out a sizeable insurance policy on her life. During their honeymoon he took her for a walk and, just as his accomplice was driving by in a rental car, pushed her to her death under the wheels of the speeding vehicle. The suspicions of the insurance company eventually brought the two conspirators to trial. What struck Dillman as unbelievable during the trial was the total lack of remorse on the part of the two criminals. What reminds me of Cain is the next part of the description by Plantinga:
Pointing to the way the police kept interfering in their lives by pursuing, interrogating, and charging them, the two men complained that they were themselves the real victims in this whole affair and implied that they ought to be not punished but consoled.15
In this illustration can be seen one of the most insidious aspects of human fallenness: a refusal to be held accountable.
Effects of sin.
Our nature. When we refuse to take responsibility for our sin, to accept blame for the consequences of our actions, and to be held accountable for what we do and say, we burn down the bridges of reconciliation. The only way back to reconciliation, forgiveness, and God has as its first step a recognition of the problem and repentant desire to do something about it. To put the problem another way, distance from God is not just because we sin; it is because we enjoy sin, cherish sinful ways, even protect our right to sin, and resist any attempt to harness our depravity.
In the 1999 film The Matrix, astonishing for its theological framework (and at the same time, distressing for its depictions of violence), the reality we all experience is portrayed as artificially produced by intelligent computers that are dependent on human beings for the supply of their energy needs. Though every human is in reality in a comatose state sustained in egg-shaped containers filled with amniotic-like fluid, impulses to the brain create all the sensations of living. These electronic impulses give them a sense of identity, create the sensations of eating, and do everything else to maintain the deception. This system that creates the electronic facsimile of existence is the matrix. People are unaware of the matrix and believe that the existence they are experiencing is reality, and that it is all there is. One of the characters describes it this way:
The matrix is everywhere, it is all around us. . . . It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth . . . that you are a slave . . . born into bondage, born into a prison that you cannot smell or taste or touch; a prison for your mind.
In a similar way, today we live in a fallen world where sin is the matrix. It controls all that we do or think though we often choose to be unaware of its presence. It is pervasive and insidious in every way, and most people go about their lives not realizing that the world of sin is not the real world. In the film a resistance group has broken free of the matrix and seeks to subvert it, bring people out of it, and eventually destroy it. But there is one Judas in the group, who has become bored with the hard realities of the resistance movement and betrays the group in order to get back into the matrix. He chooses slavery rather than to give up its benefits:
I know that this steak doesn’t exist. I know that when I put it in my mouth the matrix is telling my brain that it is juicy and delicious. After nine years [with the resistance] you know what I realize? Ignorance is bliss!
Likewise, many, like Cain, would choose not to leave the sin matrix, having become too attached to their sinful and selfish ways. As Zacharias observes, “Evil is not just where blood has been spilled. Evil is in the self-absorbed human heart.”16 And the violence a person commits soaks into the heart and corrupts.
Violence harms the one who does it as much as the one who receives it. You could cut down a tree with your axe. . . . Wood is soft compared to steel, but the sharp steel is dulled as it chops, and the sap of the tree will rust and pit it. The mighty axe does violence to the helpless tree, and is harmed by it. So it is with men, though the harm is in the spirit.17
Thus, through Cain, we come to understand more of the nature of depravity. Sin forms the matrix of our artificial existence in which spiritual realities seem distant. Even given the chance, we often choose not to leave the matrix. Our reluctance to fully take account of the reality of the spiritual world allows us to condone our own selfish behavior, refusing to take responsibility for the spiritual ramifications of our behavior. It is not surprising, then, that we find only despair as we discover the inevitability of evil. We live in Cain’s world and follow in his footsteps.
Family and society. Sin does not just impact our relationship with God; it impacts our relationship to our families and the people around us. The hardened man of the world has been heard to say, “I may as well go to hell, all my friends will be there.” One of the problems with that reasoning is that it fails to recognize our inherent dysfunctionality. There are no dysfunctional relationships in heaven, and by its very definition “relationship” is a paradox that hell cannot afford. It is not enough for sin to deprave each and every individual. Sinful people inevitably result in dysfunctional families and societies. The best families and the best friendships are only shadows of what relationships should be and could be but for sin.
Sin’s impact in Cain’s relationships is that he became jealous of his brother’s success and ended up becoming an outcast. Both of these impacts are related to the issues of attention and acceptance. It is in our nature to crave attention and acceptance from others. This craving can motivate socially acceptable behavior and even high levels of achievement. But it is fragile because it can also lead to destructive behavior and calculated failure. So it is, for instance, that anorexia can linger in the shadow of success and accomplishment.
In the 1970s, when my peers were imbibing the rebellious hard rock of Jethro Tull, Carlos Santana, and Sly and the Family Stone, I was enjoying the rich harmony of the easy listening music of the Carpenters (much to the chagrin of my college roommates). Karen and Richard Carpenter were talented musicians and attractive individuals who radiated wholesomeness and health. Blessed with talent, fame, fortune, good looks, and all the rest, one could hardly imagine a more desirable condition. Undoubtedly insiders had foreseen for some time what the world was shocked by on February 4, 1983, when it was announced that Karen Carpenter had died at the age of 32 as a result of a heart attack brought on as a complication of anorexia nervosa. Karen Carpenter’s need for acceptance by her audience, her family, and herself did not lead her to destroy someone else; instead, it led her to destroy herself.
Today anorexia continues to claim those troubled with insecurity, and suicide becomes an option for those who have not received the attention they need. At other times, the destructive behavior targets others, as Cain did. Shootings at middle schools and high schools are becoming so commonplace that we are no longer shocked or horrified that such a thing happens. Kids who feel rejected by their classmates or perhaps neglected by their parents find this a shocking way to attract attention.
How can we combat the insecurity that results from the sin that permeates our fallen world? In Genesis 4, the text is not offering solutions, it is describing the problem. There is no final solution to insecurity as long as there is sin, and the only solution to sin is that provided by God through Jesus, as recorded in the New Testament.
Character of God. As we observe the character of God in this passage, a couple of startling realities can be observed. First, we must be struck with the fact that Cain does not receive the death penalty. It seems a stark contrast to a passage such as 2 Samuel 6:6–7:
When they came to the threshing floor of Nacon, Uzzah reached out and took hold of the ark of God, because the oxen stumbled. The LORD’s anger burned against Uzzah because of his irreverent act; therefore God struck him down and he died there beside the ark of God.
Why does the Lord’s anger not burn against Cain? Undoubtedly it did. But though capital punishment was the way God directed Israel to respond to murder cases, it is not always the way God chooses (see, e.g., 2 Sam. 11–12). Already we see a God who holds justice in his right hand and mercy in his left. God is depicted as patient and conciliatory toward Cain as he grows angry over the sacrifice. God is encouraging in the context of failure. In their second conversation, after Cain’s crime has been committed, God shows his concern and demonstrates his grace.
So begins the Bible’s quest. We need to know God, and the Bible is his story. Genesis 4 is only secondarily the story of Cain and Abel; it is primarily part of God’s story. When we first come to know someone, we do so by relating parts of our stories to one another. The first pages we open include our name, our hometown, and other basic information. As we move from acquaintances to friends, we unfold more and more of our stories to each other. We discover likes and dislikes, past history, present struggles and joys, and future hopes and dreams. We gauge how well we know a person by how much we know of his or her story. When people come to love one another, they want to know every story and delight in hearing those stories over and over.18
How can we come to know God? By relating stories to one another. God relates his story through his Word; we relate our stories through prayer. God’s story is intended to help us get to know him. When we see his attributes in action, we come to understand the implications of those attributes. If I were to boast of a friend’s kindness, my assessment would be most persuasive if I were able to tell of some of the incidents in which that kindness was evident in unique ways.
Once in an initial conversation with a real-estate agent, we discovered we had a mutual acquaintance. My statement that this mutual acquaintance was a good friend could have been understood at various levels. But when I elaborated by saying that his family lived at our house for three weeks while their house was being remodeled, the person had a lot better idea of the level of our friendship. So it is with God. It is not enough to say simply that he is sovereign, just, faithful, loving, gracious, compassionate, or anything else. We know God by hearing his story and by hearing others tell of things he has done. We know God by seeing his attributes in action and thereby gaining insight into the warp and woof of his character.
We have all experienced forgiveness from God, but for many of us, the experience may have lacked the poignancy of being caught red-handed, standing face-to-face with God. If that is so, perhaps we can only come to appreciate such bold grace secondarily. Such poignancy is powerfully captured in Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables. Jean Valjean, the subject of the novel, steals a loaf of bread. As a result he spends nineteen years in prison and, when finally released, finds it difficult to escape his past. On one occasion, taken in by the kindly Monseigneur Bienvenue, he finds himself unable to resist temptation and, in the middle of the night, steals away with a cache of silverware. He does not get far before being throttled by the police. The next day he is hauled back to the house to return the valuables. He is startled at the Monseigneur Bishop’s response.19
“Ah! here you are!” he exclaimed, looking at Jean Valjean. “I am glad to see you. Well, but how is this? I gave you the candlesticks too, which are of silver like the rest, and for which you can certainly get two hundred francs. Why did you not carry them away with your forks and spoons?”
“My friend,” resumed the Bishop, “before you go, here are your candlesticks. Take them.” He stepped to the chimney-piece, took the two silver candlesticks, and brought them to Jean Valjean. Jean Valjean was trembling in every limb. He took the two candlesticks mechanically, with a bewildered air [and] was like a man on the point of fainting.
The Bishop drew near to him, and said in a low voice: “Do not forget, never forget, that you have promised to use this money in becoming an honest man.”
Jean Valjean, who had no recollection of ever having promised anything, remained speechless. The Bishop had emphasized the words when he uttered them. He resumed with solemnity: “Jean Valjean, my brother, you no longer belong to evil, but to good. It is your soul that I buy from you; I withdraw it from black thoughts and the spirit of perdition, and I give it to God.”
This indeed becomes the turning point in Valjean’s life, and the remainder of the novel traces the reverberations of grace in his life. When we read this account of mercy and compassion and see its impact in the recipient’s life, we are appropriately bewildered and awestruck. How much more should we be in awe of God’s mercy and compassion. We can never know whether Cain responded with such gratitude to God, though his initial response might suggest not. But it is irrelevant how Cain responded. What is important is how we respond once we are impressed with the power of God’s mercy and grace.
Original Meaning
Confrontation (4:6–7)
IN THIS BRIEF section, Yahweh encourages Cain to do the right thing. Again, the text does not make clear exactly what this entails, but it does indicate that God’s favor is achievable. The threshold at which Cain is poised is indicated in verse 7b by a line that is both familiar and cryptic. Its familiar ring comes from its similarity to 3:16. The vocabulary is the same (“desire” and “master”) though the pronouns are reversed.11 As defended in chapter 3, the desire is best understood as a basic instinct that can take on many different distinctions depending on whose desire it is (here the instinct would be to deprave).
The main exegetical problem with 4:7 comes in trying to interpret the phrase that the NIV translates “sin is crouching at your door.” The word translated “sin” is a feminine form, yet the participle robeṣ (“is crouching”) is clearly masculine singular as are the pronominal suffixes connected to “desire” and “rule.” Recent commentators have preferred repointing robeṣ to rabiṣ, seeing it as a reference to a well-known Mesopotamian demon who lingers around doorways. This would make sense of the reference to the doorway in this verse. “Sin” is then being portrayed as a doorway demon waiting for its victim to cross the threshold. From the Old Babylonian period on in Mesopotamia, such demons were considered evil and were thought to ambush their victims.
An alternative is available, however, if we access earlier Akkadian texts where the rabiṣu was not a demon but an important administrator who served a judicial function. In Ur III texts he was responsible for preliminary examination at trials. By mid-second millennium, texts from Amarna and Ugarit showed the role of the rabisu respectively as local ruler and important witness of documents or at trials.12 Nevertheless, the fact that the text mentions the desire to master Cain favors the interpretation of sin personified as a crouching demon waiting to strike.
Bridging Contexts
AS WE SEEK to understand the focus of this text, it is important to note its economy on certain issues and its expansiveness on others. For instance, we have noted the lack of clear indication concerning why Cain’s sacrifice was unacceptable or Abel’s acceptable, how or where God communicated, how Cain lured Abel to his death, or what Cain’s mark was. Genesis 4 does not intend to offer instruction for sacrifices; it only gives the barest essentials necessary for the dialogues to take place. Dialogue has a more central role than plot.
The issues referred to above are important to us as interpreters in that they direct us through the narrative, but they are not so to the author. He refuses to digress into inconsequential details. His reticence to digress (better understood as a determination to stay focused) is not an invitation for us to speculate about the gaps or lament the omission of details. We need to practice the discipline of reading the lines instead of reading between the lines. A successful interpretation is not the one that fills in the gaps most persuasively; it is the one that lets the gaps remain gaps and articulates the cohesiveness of the text as it stands.
Most of the chapters in Genesis either document the advance of sin or the advance of blessing. This section starts out with a blessing focus, but that is quickly preempted by a sin focus. The blessing, as modified in the pronouncement of chapter 3, indicated that humans would be able to procure offspring and food as they depended on God’s help. Eve’s statement in verse 1 began with acknowledgment of a child from the Lord, and the offerings of verse 3 show acknowledgment of food from the Lord. But even as Cain makes a pretense of offering gratitude, the nature of his offering somehow betrays an underlying dissatisfaction. The situation escalates quickly to jealousy and murder, and sin takes center stage.
In this second narrative of sin, we see the tragic descent from Adam and Eve’s sin. Eve was envious of God (3:4–6), Cain was envious of Abel. Eve’s actions can be seen in quasi-noble terms (wanting to be like God), while Cain’s action has nothing noble about it. Perhaps decline into sin sometimes begins with rationalization or pretensions of nobility. But, as with Cain’s bitter violence against his brother, in the end all that is left is seething self-indulgence.
This episode not only shows an increased level of depravity, but it also shows the effects of sin infiltrating into new areas. In chapter 3, the blessing was affected by obstacles that interfered with procuring family and procuring food. In chapter 4, family (the result of procuring children) is disrupted by murder and exile. Just as Cain is cut off from his family, he is cut off from food supply. The blessing is therefore further hindered, but still is not retracted. As 4:17–22 goes on to show, Cain still is able to have a family, and the lack of agricultural success is offset by technological development.
If chapter 3 represents the fall of humankind, chapter 4 represents the fall of the family. If chapter 3 shows the infiltration of sin into the human race, chapter 4 documents the impact of sin on the family. Sin brings internal strife to the family and eventual alienation among members of the family. The ramifications of this are not only evidenced in the events that transpire in this chapter. Its subtleties begin to be revealed when Cain poses the rhetorical question, “Am I my brother’s keeper?”
The word “keeper” translates the Hebrew šamar, which we have already encountered twice before in chapters 2–3. It was one of the terms in the original job description of Adam in 2:15 and was used in the job description of the cherubim in 3:24. It is a word that concerns responsibility. People lost the job of being responsible for the sacred space of the garden, and the tree had to be guarded from them when they were cast out. Now Cain has denied any sense of responsibility for his own family, even though he is directly responsible for Abel’s death. When we refuse to accept responsibility, we have paved the way for refusing to accept blame. In this process, accountability has already begun to disintegrate.
Contemporary Significance
OUR ATTENTION WILL ultimately focus on God, but we will travel through Cain’s territory to arrive there, as the text does, for we can only appreciate the depth of God’s character as it is seen alongside of the shallow depravity of Cain.
A true story is told in the setting of New Orleans in the 1980s by policeman John Dillman.14 Two men had contrived a get-rich-quick scheme. One of them developed a relationship with and married an innocent young woman and took out a sizeable insurance policy on her life. During their honeymoon he took her for a walk and, just as his accomplice was driving by in a rental car, pushed her to her death under the wheels of the speeding vehicle. The suspicions of the insurance company eventually brought the two conspirators to trial. What struck Dillman as unbelievable during the trial was the total lack of remorse on the part of the two criminals. What reminds me of Cain is the next part of the description by Plantinga:
Pointing to the way the police kept interfering in their lives by pursuing, interrogating, and charging them, the two men complained that they were themselves the real victims in this whole affair and implied that they ought to be not punished but consoled.15
In this illustration can be seen one of the most insidious aspects of human fallenness: a refusal to be held accountable.
Effects of sin.
Our nature. When we refuse to take responsibility for our sin, to accept blame for the consequences of our actions, and to be held accountable for what we do and say, we burn down the bridges of reconciliation. The only way back to reconciliation, forgiveness, and God has as its first step a recognition of the problem and repentant desire to do something about it. To put the problem another way, distance from God is not just because we sin; it is because we enjoy sin, cherish sinful ways, even protect our right to sin, and resist any attempt to harness our depravity.
In the 1999 film The Matrix, astonishing for its theological framework (and at the same time, distressing for its depictions of violence), the reality we all experience is portrayed as artificially produced by intelligent computers that are dependent on human beings for the supply of their energy needs. Though every human is in reality in a comatose state sustained in egg-shaped containers filled with amniotic-like fluid, impulses to the brain create all the sensations of living. These electronic impulses give them a sense of identity, create the sensations of eating, and do everything else to maintain the deception. This system that creates the electronic facsimile of existence is the matrix. People are unaware of the matrix and believe that the existence they are experiencing is reality, and that it is all there is. One of the characters describes it this way:
The matrix is everywhere, it is all around us. . . . It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth . . . that you are a slave . . . born into bondage, born into a prison that you cannot smell or taste or touch; a prison for your mind.
In a similar way, today we live in a fallen world where sin is the matrix. It controls all that we do or think though we often choose to be unaware of its presence. It is pervasive and insidious in every way, and most people go about their lives not realizing that the world of sin is not the real world. In the film a resistance group has broken free of the matrix and seeks to subvert it, bring people out of it, and eventually destroy it. But there is one Judas in the group, who has become bored with the hard realities of the resistance movement and betrays the group in order to get back into the matrix. He chooses slavery rather than to give up its benefits:
I know that this steak doesn’t exist. I know that when I put it in my mouth the matrix is telling my brain that it is juicy and delicious. After nine years [with the resistance] you know what I realize? Ignorance is bliss!
Likewise, many, like Cain, would choose not to leave the sin matrix, having become too attached to their sinful and selfish ways. As Zacharias observes, “Evil is not just where blood has been spilled. Evil is in the self-absorbed human heart.”16 And the violence a person commits soaks into the heart and corrupts.
Violence harms the one who does it as much as the one who receives it. You could cut down a tree with your axe. . . . Wood is soft compared to steel, but the sharp steel is dulled as it chops, and the sap of the tree will rust and pit it. The mighty axe does violence to the helpless tree, and is harmed by it. So it is with men, though the harm is in the spirit.17
Thus, through Cain, we come to understand more of the nature of depravity. Sin forms the matrix of our artificial existence in which spiritual realities seem distant. Even given the chance, we often choose not to leave the matrix. Our reluctance to fully take account of the reality of the spiritual world allows us to condone our own selfish behavior, refusing to take responsibility for the spiritual ramifications of our behavior. It is not surprising, then, that we find only despair as we discover the inevitability of evil. We live in Cain’s world and follow in his footsteps.
Family and society. Sin does not just impact our relationship with God; it impacts our relationship to our families and the people around us. The hardened man of the world has been heard to say, “I may as well go to hell, all my friends will be there.” One of the problems with that reasoning is that it fails to recognize our inherent dysfunctionality. There are no dysfunctional relationships in heaven, and by its very definition “relationship” is a paradox that hell cannot afford. It is not enough for sin to deprave each and every individual. Sinful people inevitably result in dysfunctional families and societies. The best families and the best friendships are only shadows of what relationships should be and could be but for sin.
Sin’s impact in Cain’s relationships is that he became jealous of his brother’s success and ended up becoming an outcast. Both of these impacts are related to the issues of attention and acceptance. It is in our nature to crave attention and acceptance from others. This craving can motivate socially acceptable behavior and even high levels of achievement. But it is fragile because it can also lead to destructive behavior and calculated failure. So it is, for instance, that anorexia can linger in the shadow of success and accomplishment.
In the 1970s, when my peers were imbibing the rebellious hard rock of Jethro Tull, Carlos Santana, and Sly and the Family Stone, I was enjoying the rich harmony of the easy listening music of the Carpenters (much to the chagrin of my college roommates). Karen and Richard Carpenter were talented musicians and attractive individuals who radiated wholesomeness and health. Blessed with talent, fame, fortune, good looks, and all the rest, one could hardly imagine a more desirable condition. Undoubtedly insiders had foreseen for some time what the world was shocked by on February 4, 1983, when it was announced that Karen Carpenter had died at the age of 32 as a result of a heart attack brought on as a complication of anorexia nervosa. Karen Carpenter’s need for acceptance by her audience, her family, and herself did not lead her to destroy someone else; instead, it led her to destroy herself.
Today anorexia continues to claim those troubled with insecurity, and suicide becomes an option for those who have not received the attention they need. At other times, the destructive behavior targets others, as Cain did. Shootings at middle schools and high schools are becoming so commonplace that we are no longer shocked or horrified that such a thing happens. Kids who feel rejected by their classmates or perhaps neglected by their parents find this a shocking way to attract attention.
How can we combat the insecurity that results from the sin that permeates our fallen world? In Genesis 4, the text is not offering solutions, it is describing the problem. There is no final solution to insecurity as long as there is sin, and the only solution to sin is that provided by God through Jesus, as recorded in the New Testament.
Character of God. As we observe the character of God in this passage, a couple of startling realities can be observed. First, we must be struck with the fact that Cain does not receive the death penalty. It seems a stark contrast to a passage such as 2 Samuel 6:6–7:
When they came to the threshing floor of Nacon, Uzzah reached out and took hold of the ark of God, because the oxen stumbled. The LORD’s anger burned against Uzzah because of his irreverent act; therefore God struck him down and he died there beside the ark of God.
Why does the Lord’s anger not burn against Cain? Undoubtedly it did. But though capital punishment was the way God directed Israel to respond to murder cases, it is not always the way God chooses (see, e.g., 2 Sam. 11–12). Already we see a God who holds justice in his right hand and mercy in his left. God is depicted as patient and conciliatory toward Cain as he grows angry over the sacrifice. God is encouraging in the context of failure. In their second conversation, after Cain’s crime has been committed, God shows his concern and demonstrates his grace.
So begins the Bible’s quest. We need to know God, and the Bible is his story. Genesis 4 is only secondarily the story of Cain and Abel; it is primarily part of God’s story. When we first come to know someone, we do so by relating parts of our stories to one another. The first pages we open include our name, our hometown, and other basic information. As we move from acquaintances to friends, we unfold more and more of our stories to each other. We discover likes and dislikes, past history, present struggles and joys, and future hopes and dreams. We gauge how well we know a person by how much we know of his or her story. When people come to love one another, they want to know every story and delight in hearing those stories over and over.18
How can we come to know God? By relating stories to one another. God relates his story through his Word; we relate our stories through prayer. God’s story is intended to help us get to know him. When we see his attributes in action, we come to understand the implications of those attributes. If I were to boast of a friend’s kindness, my assessment would be most persuasive if I were able to tell of some of the incidents in which that kindness was evident in unique ways.
Once in an initial conversation with a real-estate agent, we discovered we had a mutual acquaintance. My statement that this mutual acquaintance was a good friend could have been understood at various levels. But when I elaborated by saying that his family lived at our house for three weeks while their house was being remodeled, the person had a lot better idea of the level of our friendship. So it is with God. It is not enough to say simply that he is sovereign, just, faithful, loving, gracious, compassionate, or anything else. We know God by hearing his story and by hearing others tell of things he has done. We know God by seeing his attributes in action and thereby gaining insight into the warp and woof of his character.
We have all experienced forgiveness from God, but for many of us, the experience may have lacked the poignancy of being caught red-handed, standing face-to-face with God. If that is so, perhaps we can only come to appreciate such bold grace secondarily. Such poignancy is powerfully captured in Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables. Jean Valjean, the subject of the novel, steals a loaf of bread. As a result he spends nineteen years in prison and, when finally released, finds it difficult to escape his past. On one occasion, taken in by the kindly Monseigneur Bienvenue, he finds himself unable to resist temptation and, in the middle of the night, steals away with a cache of silverware. He does not get far before being throttled by the police. The next day he is hauled back to the house to return the valuables. He is startled at the Monseigneur Bishop’s response.19
“Ah! here you are!” he exclaimed, looking at Jean Valjean. “I am glad to see you. Well, but how is this? I gave you the candlesticks too, which are of silver like the rest, and for which you can certainly get two hundred francs. Why did you not carry them away with your forks and spoons?”
“My friend,” resumed the Bishop, “before you go, here are your candlesticks. Take them.” He stepped to the chimney-piece, took the two silver candlesticks, and brought them to Jean Valjean. Jean Valjean was trembling in every limb. He took the two candlesticks mechanically, with a bewildered air [and] was like a man on the point of fainting.
The Bishop drew near to him, and said in a low voice: “Do not forget, never forget, that you have promised to use this money in becoming an honest man.”
Jean Valjean, who had no recollection of ever having promised anything, remained speechless. The Bishop had emphasized the words when he uttered them. He resumed with solemnity: “Jean Valjean, my brother, you no longer belong to evil, but to good. It is your soul that I buy from you; I withdraw it from black thoughts and the spirit of perdition, and I give it to God.”
This indeed becomes the turning point in Valjean’s life, and the remainder of the novel traces the reverberations of grace in his life. When we read this account of mercy and compassion and see its impact in the recipient’s life, we are appropriately bewildered and awestruck. How much more should we be in awe of God’s mercy and compassion. We can never know whether Cain responded with such gratitude to God, though his initial response might suggest not. But it is irrelevant how Cain responded. What is important is how we respond once we are impressed with the power of God’s mercy and grace.
Original Meaning
Murder and Its Aftermath (4:8–16)
THE ACTUAL DESCRIPTION of the deed that is the focus of the narrative is reported in so brief a manner that it almost appears incidental. There is no report of temptation, of weighing the ramifications, or of struggles with conscience—simply a wanton act of violence flamed by bitter jealousy. From a literary standpoint the same proportions are evident as in chapter 3, where a single line describing the offense is accompanied by several sentences of dialogue between deity and offender(s). Also as in chapter 3, the conversation begins with God asking questions. In 3:11 God’s question concerning whether they have eaten of the fruit is parried by deflecting blame to others. Cain’s response to God’s probing question is simply a lie (“I don’t know”), followed by an evasive denial of responsibility. Perhaps we should see irony in how far one chapter has brought us from wanting to know everything about good and evil to knowing nothing.
As 3:13 introduced the pronouncement with a statement that assigned guilt (“What is this you have done?”), so 4:10 introduces Yahweh’s pronouncement with essentially the same statement. As in 3:17 the ground was put under a curse (i.e., removed from God’s favor and protection), so now Cain himself is put under the same sort of curse. As we noted in chapter 3, this is not a hex or a spell. Actually the wording of 4:11 is more reminiscent of the curse on the serpent because it is modified by a min clause.13 The serpent is cursed min the other animals, while Cain is cursed min the ground. Based on what appears to be a clarifying statement in 4:12, I am inclined to translate, “cursed are you relative to the ground.” Becoming a restless wanderer is a consequence of the land not providing for his food; rather, he will be forced to wander to get food.
Adam and Eve were expelled from the sacred space of the garden and thus removed a distance from God’s presence, but in the present pronouncement Cain is expelled from God’s presence and protection, which he himself recognizes in verse 14. If we use the tabernacle model as an analogy, Adam and Eve were banned from the antechamber while Cain is driven outside the camp. In the garden there was lush provision of food; outside the garden there was arable land with cultivation being possible; Cain is driven to a place that has no hope of agriculture, so that one must survive by hunting and gathering. Thus, food provision again takes a central place as the blessing becomes more and more difficult to attain. Likewise, since Cain denies responsibility for family, he is deprived of family (the other component of the blessing).
Finally, a word must be said about Cain’s fears and God’s response to those fears. Who does Cain think is out there to kill him, and what is the mark affixed by Yahweh? The presence of other people can either be attributed to the idea that Adam and Eve are only one of many couples that were created or that the other people represent a rapidly expanding family from the offspring of Adam and Eve. The text of Genesis is silent in this regard, but Pauline theology leads us to favor the second option. It is difficult to determine how sin came to all humanity unless all humans are descendants of Adam and Eve. This theological inference cannot be elaborated since the text offers no further information.
In 4:11 the use of a curse statement puts Cain in the same category as the serpent. In 4:15, the provision of a sign/mark treats Cain comparably to how his parents were treated. The mark placed on Cain plays a parallel role in this narrative to the garments provided for Adam and Eve in 3:21. These acts of grace serve as God’s protective provision for the new environment. In both cases it is God’s response to their recognition of the vulnerability that resulted from their offense (Adam and Eve had used fig leaves to try to cover themselves; Cain complained that he would be killed). Just as it did not matter where God got the animal skin or what it looked like, it is of little importance what the sign is like and how it functions. In both cases the importance of the gift is in the One who gave it.
Bridging Contexts
AS WE SEEK to understand the focus of this text, it is important to note its economy on certain issues and its expansiveness on others. For instance, we have noted the lack of clear indication concerning why Cain’s sacrifice was unacceptable or Abel’s acceptable, how or where God communicated, how Cain lured Abel to his death, or what Cain’s mark was. Genesis 4 does not intend to offer instruction for sacrifices; it only gives the barest essentials necessary for the dialogues to take place. Dialogue has a more central role than plot.
The issues referred to above are important to us as interpreters in that they direct us through the narrative, but they are not so to the author. He refuses to digress into inconsequential details. His reticence to digress (better understood as a determination to stay focused) is not an invitation for us to speculate about the gaps or lament the omission of details. We need to practice the discipline of reading the lines instead of reading between the lines. A successful interpretation is not the one that fills in the gaps most persuasively; it is the one that lets the gaps remain gaps and articulates the cohesiveness of the text as it stands.
Most of the chapters in Genesis either document the advance of sin or the advance of blessing. This section starts out with a blessing focus, but that is quickly preempted by a sin focus. The blessing, as modified in the pronouncement of chapter 3, indicated that humans would be able to procure offspring and food as they depended on God’s help. Eve’s statement in verse 1 began with acknowledgment of a child from the Lord, and the offerings of verse 3 show acknowledgment of food from the Lord. But even as Cain makes a pretense of offering gratitude, the nature of his offering somehow betrays an underlying dissatisfaction. The situation escalates quickly to jealousy and murder, and sin takes center stage.
In this second narrative of sin, we see the tragic descent from Adam and Eve’s sin. Eve was envious of God (3:4–6), Cain was envious of Abel. Eve’s actions can be seen in quasi-noble terms (wanting to be like God), while Cain’s action has nothing noble about it. Perhaps decline into sin sometimes begins with rationalization or pretensions of nobility. But, as with Cain’s bitter violence against his brother, in the end all that is left is seething self-indulgence.
This episode not only shows an increased level of depravity, but it also shows the effects of sin infiltrating into new areas. In chapter 3, the blessing was affected by obstacles that interfered with procuring family and procuring food. In chapter 4, family (the result of procuring children) is disrupted by murder and exile. Just as Cain is cut off from his family, he is cut off from food supply. The blessing is therefore further hindered, but still is not retracted. As 4:17–22 goes on to show, Cain still is able to have a family, and the lack of agricultural success is offset by technological development.
If chapter 3 represents the fall of humankind, chapter 4 represents the fall of the family. If chapter 3 shows the infiltration of sin into the human race, chapter 4 documents the impact of sin on the family. Sin brings internal strife to the family and eventual alienation among members of the family. The ramifications of this are not only evidenced in the events that transpire in this chapter. Its subtleties begin to be revealed when Cain poses the rhetorical question, “Am I my brother’s keeper?”
The word “keeper” translates the Hebrew šamar, which we have already encountered twice before in chapters 2–3. It was one of the terms in the original job description of Adam in 2:15 and was used in the job description of the cherubim in 3:24. It is a word that concerns responsibility. People lost the job of being responsible for the sacred space of the garden, and the tree had to be guarded from them when they were cast out. Now Cain has denied any sense of responsibility for his own family, even though he is directly responsible for Abel’s death. When we refuse to accept responsibility, we have paved the way for refusing to accept blame. In this process, accountability has already begun to disintegrate.
Contemporary Significance
OUR ATTENTION WILL ultimately focus on God, but we will travel through Cain’s territory to arrive there, as the text does, for we can only appreciate the depth of God’s character as it is seen alongside of the shallow depravity of Cain.
A true story is told in the setting of New Orleans in the 1980s by policeman John Dillman.14 Two men had contrived a get-rich-quick scheme. One of them developed a relationship with and married an innocent young woman and took out a sizeable insurance policy on her life. During their honeymoon he took her for a walk and, just as his accomplice was driving by in a rental car, pushed her to her death under the wheels of the speeding vehicle. The suspicions of the insurance company eventually brought the two conspirators to trial. What struck Dillman as unbelievable during the trial was the total lack of remorse on the part of the two criminals. What reminds me of Cain is the next part of the description by Plantinga:
Pointing to the way the police kept interfering in their lives by pursuing, interrogating, and charging them, the two men complained that they were themselves the real victims in this whole affair and implied that they ought to be not punished but consoled.15
In this illustration can be seen one of the most insidious aspects of human fallenness: a refusal to be held accountable.
Effects of sin.
Our nature. When we refuse to take responsibility for our sin, to accept blame for the consequences of our actions, and to be held accountable for what we do and say, we burn down the bridges of reconciliation. The only way back to reconciliation, forgiveness, and God has as its first step a recognition of the problem and repentant desire to do something about it. To put the problem another way, distance from God is not just because we sin; it is because we enjoy sin, cherish sinful ways, even protect our right to sin, and resist any attempt to harness our depravity.
In the 1999 film The Matrix, astonishing for its theological framework (and at the same time, distressing for its depictions of violence), the reality we all experience is portrayed as artificially produced by intelligent computers that are dependent on human beings for the supply of their energy needs. Though every human is in reality in a comatose state sustained in egg-shaped containers filled with amniotic-like fluid, impulses to the brain create all the sensations of living. These electronic impulses give them a sense of identity, create the sensations of eating, and do everything else to maintain the deception. This system that creates the electronic facsimile of existence is the matrix. People are unaware of the matrix and believe that the existence they are experiencing is reality, and that it is all there is. One of the characters describes it this way:
The matrix is everywhere, it is all around us. . . . It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth . . . that you are a slave . . . born into bondage, born into a prison that you cannot smell or taste or touch; a prison for your mind.
In a similar way, today we live in a fallen world where sin is the matrix. It controls all that we do or think though we often choose to be unaware of its presence. It is pervasive and insidious in every way, and most people go about their lives not realizing that the world of sin is not the real world. In the film a resistance group has broken free of the matrix and seeks to subvert it, bring people out of it, and eventually destroy it. But there is one Judas in the group, who has become bored with the hard realities of the resistance movement and betrays the group in order to get back into the matrix. He chooses slavery rather than to give up its benefits:
I know that this steak doesn’t exist. I know that when I put it in my mouth the matrix is telling my brain that it is juicy and delicious. After nine years [with the resistance] you know what I realize? Ignorance is bliss!
Likewise, many, like Cain, would choose not to leave the sin matrix, having become too attached to their sinful and selfish ways. As Zacharias observes, “Evil is not just where blood has been spilled. Evil is in the self-absorbed human heart.”16 And the violence a person commits soaks into the heart and corrupts.
Violence harms the one who does it as much as the one who receives it. You could cut down a tree with your axe. . . . Wood is soft compared to steel, but the sharp steel is dulled as it chops, and the sap of the tree will rust and pit it. The mighty axe does violence to the helpless tree, and is harmed by it. So it is with men, though the harm is in the spirit.17
Thus, through Cain, we come to understand more of the nature of depravity. Sin forms the matrix of our artificial existence in which spiritual realities seem distant. Even given the chance, we often choose not to leave the matrix. Our reluctance to fully take account of the reality of the spiritual world allows us to condone our own selfish behavior, refusing to take responsibility for the spiritual ramifications of our behavior. It is not surprising, then, that we find only despair as we discover the inevitability of evil. We live in Cain’s world and follow in his footsteps.
Family and society. Sin does not just impact our relationship with God; it impacts our relationship to our families and the people around us. The hardened man of the world has been heard to say, “I may as well go to hell, all my friends will be there.” One of the problems with that reasoning is that it fails to recognize our inherent dysfunctionality. There are no dysfunctional relationships in heaven, and by its very definition “relationship” is a paradox that hell cannot afford. It is not enough for sin to deprave each and every individual. Sinful people inevitably result in dysfunctional families and societies. The best families and the best friendships are only shadows of what relationships should be and could be but for sin.
Sin’s impact in Cain’s relationships is that he became jealous of his brother’s success and ended up becoming an outcast. Both of these impacts are related to the issues of attention and acceptance. It is in our nature to crave attention and acceptance from others. This craving can motivate socially acceptable behavior and even high levels of achievement. But it is fragile because it can also lead to destructive behavior and calculated failure. So it is, for instance, that anorexia can linger in the shadow of success and accomplishment.
In the 1970s, when my peers were imbibing the rebellious hard rock of Jethro Tull, Carlos Santana, and Sly and the Family Stone, I was enjoying the rich harmony of the easy listening music of the Carpenters (much to the chagrin of my college roommates). Karen and Richard Carpenter were talented musicians and attractive individuals who radiated wholesomeness and health. Blessed with talent, fame, fortune, good looks, and all the rest, one could hardly imagine a more desirable condition. Undoubtedly insiders had foreseen for some time what the world was shocked by on February 4, 1983, when it was announced that Karen Carpenter had died at the age of 32 as a result of a heart attack brought on as a complication of anorexia nervosa. Karen Carpenter’s need for acceptance by her audience, her family, and herself did not lead her to destroy someone else; instead, it led her to destroy herself.
Today anorexia continues to claim those troubled with insecurity, and suicide becomes an option for those who have not received the attention they need. At other times, the destructive behavior targets others, as Cain did. Shootings at middle schools and high schools are becoming so commonplace that we are no longer shocked or horrified that such a thing happens. Kids who feel rejected by their classmates or perhaps neglected by their parents find this a shocking way to attract attention.
How can we combat the insecurity that results from the sin that permeates our fallen world? In Genesis 4, the text is not offering solutions, it is describing the problem. There is no final solution to insecurity as long as there is sin, and the only solution to sin is that provided by God through Jesus, as recorded in the New Testament.
Character of God. As we observe the character of God in this passage, a couple of startling realities can be observed. First, we must be struck with the fact that Cain does not receive the death penalty. It seems a stark contrast to a passage such as 2 Samuel 6:6–7:
When they came to the threshing floor of Nacon, Uzzah reached out and took hold of the ark of God, because the oxen stumbled. The LORD’s anger burned against Uzzah because of his irreverent act; therefore God struck him down and he died there beside the ark of God.
Why does the Lord’s anger not burn against Cain? Undoubtedly it did. But though capital punishment was the way God directed Israel to respond to murder cases, it is not always the way God chooses (see, e.g., 2 Sam. 11–12). Already we see a God who holds justice in his right hand and mercy in his left. God is depicted as patient and conciliatory toward Cain as he grows angry over the sacrifice. God is encouraging in the context of failure. In their second conversation, after Cain’s crime has been committed, God shows his concern and demonstrates his grace.
So begins the Bible’s quest. We need to know God, and the Bible is his story. Genesis 4 is only secondarily the story of Cain and Abel; it is primarily part of God’s story. When we first come to know someone, we do so by relating parts of our stories to one another. The first pages we open include our name, our hometown, and other basic information. As we move from acquaintances to friends, we unfold more and more of our stories to each other. We discover likes and dislikes, past history, present struggles and joys, and future hopes and dreams. We gauge how well we know a person by how much we know of his or her story. When people come to love one another, they want to know every story and delight in hearing those stories over and over.18
How can we come to know God? By relating stories to one another. God relates his story through his Word; we relate our stories through prayer. God’s story is intended to help us get to know him. When we see his attributes in action, we come to understand the implications of those attributes. If I were to boast of a friend’s kindness, my assessment would be most persuasive if I were able to tell of some of the incidents in which that kindness was evident in unique ways.
Once in an initial conversation with a real-estate agent, we discovered we had a mutual acquaintance. My statement that this mutual acquaintance was a good friend could have been understood at various levels. But when I elaborated by saying that his family lived at our house for three weeks while their house was being remodeled, the person had a lot better idea of the level of our friendship. So it is with God. It is not enough to say simply that he is sovereign, just, faithful, loving, gracious, compassionate, or anything else. We know God by hearing his story and by hearing others tell of things he has done. We know God by seeing his attributes in action and thereby gaining insight into the warp and woof of his character.
We have all experienced forgiveness from God, but for many of us, the experience may have lacked the poignancy of being caught red-handed, standing face-to-face with God. If that is so, perhaps we can only come to appreciate such bold grace secondarily. Such poignancy is powerfully captured in Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables. Jean Valjean, the subject of the novel, steals a loaf of bread. As a result he spends nineteen years in prison and, when finally released, finds it difficult to escape his past. On one occasion, taken in by the kindly Monseigneur Bienvenue, he finds himself unable to resist temptation and, in the middle of the night, steals away with a cache of silverware. He does not get far before being throttled by the police. The next day he is hauled back to the house to return the valuables. He is startled at the Monseigneur Bishop’s response.19
“Ah! here you are!” he exclaimed, looking at Jean Valjean. “I am glad to see you. Well, but how is this? I gave you the candlesticks too, which are of silver like the rest, and for which you can certainly get two hundred francs. Why did you not carry them away with your forks and spoons?”
“My friend,” resumed the Bishop, “before you go, here are your candlesticks. Take them.” He stepped to the chimney-piece, took the two silver candlesticks, and brought them to Jean Valjean. Jean Valjean was trembling in every limb. He took the two candlesticks mechanically, with a bewildered air [and] was like a man on the point of fainting.
The Bishop drew near to him, and said in a low voice: “Do not forget, never forget, that you have promised to use this money in becoming an honest man.”
Jean Valjean, who had no recollection of ever having promised anything, remained speechless. The Bishop had emphasized the words when he uttered them. He resumed with solemnity: “Jean Valjean, my brother, you no longer belong to evil, but to good. It is your soul that I buy from you; I withdraw it from black thoughts and the spirit of perdition, and I give it to God.”
This indeed becomes the turning point in Valjean’s life, and the remainder of the novel traces the reverberations of grace in his life. When we read this account of mercy and compassion and see its impact in the recipient’s life, we are appropriately bewildered and awestruck. How much more should we be in awe of God’s mercy and compassion. We can never know whether Cain responded with such gratitude to God, though his initial response might suggest not. But it is irrelevant how Cain responded. What is important is how we respond once we are impressed with the power of God’s mercy and grace.