CHAPTER ONE. A First Case: The Story of Cain and Abel
ONE OF the first stories in the Bible is about a homicide:
1Now, the man had known his wife Eve, and she conceived
and gave birth to Cain, saying, “I have acquired a male child with
[the help of] the Lord.” 2 Once again, she gave birth, [this time]
to his brother Abel. Abel became a keeper of sheep, and Cain became
a tiller of the soil. 3 In time, Cain brought an offering to the
Lord from the fruit of the soil, 4 and Abel, for his part, brought
the choicest of the firstlings of his flock. The Lord looked with
favor upon Abel and his offerings 5 but did not look with favor
upon Cain and his offerings. Cain was depressed1 and saddened.
6 The Lord said to Cain, “Why are you depressed, and why are
you saddened? 7 Is it not true that whether2 you are good at being
1A distinction is to be drawn between -l hrj, “to be depressed, be despondent,” and #a hrj,
“to be angry.” Cf. Mayer Gruber, “The Tragedy of Cain and Abel: A Case of Depression,” in
The Motherhood of God and Other Studies (South Florida Studies in the History of Judaism
57; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1992), 121–131.
2In this clause, !a functions as a coordinating conjunction introducing two alternatives in
a protasis, byfyt al !aw ta` byfyt !a awlh, contra the translations and commentaries. Another
example of this may be found in Ezek 2:5 (“And they – whether they listen or not, for they are
a house of rebellion – they will know that there was a prophet among them”). The word byfyt
patient3 or not, sin is a demon at the door; toward you is its desire,
but you control it.” 8 Cain said to his brother Abel, and when
they were in the field, Cain arose against his brother and killed him.
9 The Lord said to Cain, “Where is your brother Abel?” He said, “I
do not know. Am I my brother’s keeper?” 10 The Lord said, “What
have you done? Listen, your brother’s blood is crying out to me from
the soil. 11Now, you are cursed from the soil, which has opened its
mouth to take your brother’s blood from your hands. 12When you
till the soil, it will no longer yield its strength to you. You will be
a fugitive and a wanderer on the earth.” 13 Cain said to the Lord,
“My punishment is greater than I can bear. 14Today you have driven
me from the soil, and I shall be hidden from your face. I will be a
fugitive and wanderer on the earth, and anyone who meets me may
kill me.” 15 The Lord said to him, “Therefore, whoever kills Cain
will suffer sevenfold vengeance.” The Lord put a mark on Cain so
that no one who came upon him would kill him. 16 Cain went away
from the presence of the Lord and settled in the land of Nod, east of
Eden. (Gen 4:1–16)
The forcefulness of this narrative is that it is about social relations and
violence; it is not just an internal linguistic affair of signs and signifiers.4
Cain is portrayed not simply as a cold mechanical killer, but as one drawn
in subtle emotional nuances. The story of Cain and Abel is fraught with
dramatic, psychological, and social possibility, and each turn of the story
escalates the tension and complexity. God confronts Cain with a warning
about the unpredictability and tenacity of the impulse to sin and then returns
to confront him about his role in his brother’s slaying. God does not mention
Abel’s death explicitly at first but asks Cain about his brother’s whereabouts.
Cain evades the question, knowing exactly what befell his brother, but unwilling
to admit his part in it. When God rebukes Cain and announces his
punishment, Cain is filled with feelings of shame and acute despair, and his
acts adverbially in describing ta`. The adverbial usage of the root bfy in Hiphil is discussed in
Bruce K. Waltke and Michael O’Connor, An Introduction to Biblical Hebrew Syntax (Winona
Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns, 1990), 592.
3The verb a`n rarely appears intransitively in Qal, and since it is used so infrequently, translators
have failed to understand it. NJV translates, “If you do well, there is uplift . . .” reflecting the pun
on “Why is your face fallen?” from the previous verse, but it is unclear what “uplift” signifies.
E. A. Speiser, Genesis (AB; Garden City, New York: Doubleday, 1962), 33, suggests, “If you
do well, there is exaltation . . . ,” but the root in Niphal, not Qal, means “exaltation.” RSV’s
translation, “If you do well, will you not be accepted?” also transforms the root into its Niphal
meaning. However, in our passage, Gen 4:7, the root appears in Qal. The meaning of a`n in
Qal depends on whether it has an object. When this root is used intransitively in Qal, it means
“patient,” as can be extrapolated from Ps 99:8.
4Cf.William Ian Miller, Bloodtaking and Peacemaking: Feud, Law, and Society in Saga Iceland
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1990), 3.
pleading inspires God to mitigate the punishment. In addition to the dramatic
and psychological, the story reflects or raises questions about typical
social and legal matters. What motives serve as causes for murder? Can a
killer ever justify his actions? Who remedies the crime? What is the appropriate
sanction for a slaying? What rules, customs, and norms govern the
prosecution and punishment of a killer? And if a killer is not punished by
execution, what kind of life can he be expected to lead?
Genesis 4 is a good entryway into many of the issues of central concern
in the adjudication of homicide in the Hebrew Bible. It adumbrates the
considerations that inform the treatment of homicide in other biblical texts.
The focus on Cain’s psychology and the impulse to sin reflects a desire to
determine the killer’s responsibility, an essential element in the biblical adjudication
of homicide. The selection of a slaying as the first offense committed
by one human being upon another indicates the seriousness with which slaying
is taken. The killing is set in the field, a place often the site of crime
where the infrequency of bystanders complicates the determination of guilt
(cf. Deut 22:25; 2 Sam 14:6). Divine protection of Cain reflects the anxiety
over the appropriate form of punishment for a killer. And the !ymd,“blood,”
of Abel is not simply a powerful image invented by a creative author for the
tale of Cain and Abel. It is something real that has an existence of its own,
and when blood is spilled, serious consequences result. The story of Cain
and Abel thus opens up some of the critical issues in homicide for the Bible.
There is a preoccupation, even a morbid fascination, with the inner life
of the killer in Genesis 4. The narrative is concerned with the circumstances
leading up to the killing, the motive and mens rea, the state of mind, of the
slayer.5 Cain’s enmity and jealousy toward his brother are aroused by the
5The other main line of interpretation of the story of Cain and Abel shifts the focus from murder.
Rather, this episode illustrates the inevitable conflict between nomads and farmers, between the
desert and the sown. The murder arose naturally and invariably out of this inevitable conflict
and, therefore, the implication is that the killer himself does not really bear responsibility. (Cf.
D. Bernhard Stade, who worked out the interpretation in detail, “Das Kainszeichen,” in Ausgewahlte
Akademische Reden und Abhandlungen [Giessen: J. Ricker’sche Verlagsbuchhandlung,
1899], 229–273; G. S. Kirk, Myth: Its Meaning and Functions in Ancient and Other Cultures
[Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1970], 146; Speiser, Genesis, 31.) According to this
interpretation, Cain is a symbol for the nomadic tribe of the Kenites, who live in the desert
south of Judah and who are at odds with those who live settled lives. However, there is a basic
incoherence at the heart of this analysis. (Cf. Umberto M. D. Cassuto, The Book of Genesis:
Part I: From Adam to Noah; Part II: From Noah to Abraham [Hebrew] [Jerusalem: Magnes
Press, 1986 (1944)], 120–122; Claus Westermann, Genesis 1–11 [trans. John J. Scullion; CC;
Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1985], 282–284.) Which figure represents the pastoral and which the
agricultural? At the start, Cain is the farmer, that is, the one leading a settled existence, and
Abel the pastoralist. Then Cain is condemned to wander but settles in the land east of Eden.
Furthermore, there is no indication that Cain’s progeny wanders like Cain. His eldest son founds
a city. (Cain himself may be the founder of this city if the name Enoch is a misreading for Irad.)
Cain’s condition is confined to him alone. He is not emblematic of any nomadic or agricultural
group.
seemingly arbitrary evaluation of their offerings. There is only the barest of
implications that Cain’s offering was incorrect in the comparison of Cain’s
offering, “the fruit of the soil,” to Abel’s “choicest of the firstlings of his
flock.”6 The seemingly mercurial judgment of God and the innocence of
Cain in this regard are amplified by the disjunction between the events of
the narrative in vv. 1–6 and God’s words. We would expect God to offer
criticism of Cain’s offering. Rather, God mentions controlling the impulse to
sin.7 After the deed is done, the narrative then explores the inner life of the
killer. When God asks obliquely about Abel’s whereabouts, Cain avoids the
questions and disavows knowledge, so typical of an offender who knows very
well what he has done and is attempting to evade punishment. Cain’s plea
for mitigation of punishment borders on poignancy. This narrative shaping
explores the psychology of the killer before and after the killing as an avenue
for determining the responsibility of the killer for his actions.
Cain’s impulse to kill is depicted as capricious and powerful, illuminating
a theory of sin and personal responsibility. God cautions Cain: “Is it not
true that whether you are good at being patient or not, sin is a demon
at the door; toward you is its desire, but you control it” (Gen 4:7). Sin
is personified as a demon, Akkadian r ¯ abis.u.8 The Akkadian word r ¯ abis.u
originally referred to a high official who held judicial responsibility as an
examining magistrate in preliminary court investigations. Later on, it was
applied to deities, reflecting their judicial role in bringing the guilty party
to judgment.9 This term was then demonized: The fearsome nature and
6Cf. Cassuto, The Book of Genesis . . . [Hebrew], 138.
7Cf. N. H. Tur-Sinai, “At the Door Sin Couches” [Hebrew], Tarbiz 16 (1944), 8.
8Hans Duhm identifies the demonological aspect in Die bo‥ sen Geisten im Alten Testament
(Tu¨bingen/Leipzig: J. C. B. Mohr, 1904), 8–10. Claus Westermann objects that the word $=o
could not refer to a demon because such a personification of sin was unlikely in so early a text
and was simply unparalleled elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible (Genesis 1–11, 300). In defense of
the demonological interpretation, it is in all events difficult to date this text. Although opinion
on the direct dependence of Genesis 1–11 on Mesopotamian texts has waxed and waned in the
last century of scholarship, even those advocating a minimalist connection recognize elements
developing from a shared common tradition/culture. (Cf. Richard S. Hess, “One Hundred
Fifty Years of Comparative Studies on Genesis 1–11,” in “I Studied Inscriptions from Before
the Flood”: Ancient Near Eastern, Literary, and Linguistic Approaches to Genesis 1–11 [ed.
Richard S. Hess and David Toshio Tsumura; Sources for Biblical and Theological Study 4;
Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns, 1994], 3–26, and David Toshio Tsumura, “Genesis and
Ancient Near Eastern Creation Stories,” in “I Studied Inscriptions from Before the Flood,”
27–57, esp. 55–56.) In light of the Mesopotamian background of Genesis 1–11, a reference to
a Mesopotamian concept seems a strong possibility. Gerhard von Rad’s suggestion to transfer
the t from the end of tafj to the beginning of $br to yield $brt eliminates the problem in the
gender agreement between subject and verb but would necessitate the emendation of the thirdperson
masculine suffixes in the following clauses (Genesis [revised edition; OTL; Philadelphia:
Westminster, 1972], 105) and so in solving one problem creates an equally difficult problem.
9AHw, s.v. r ¯ abis. u, 2.935; A. Leo Oppenheim, “‘The Eyes of the Lord,’” JAOS 88 (1968), 173–
180; Dietz Otto Edzard and F. A. M.Wiggermann, “Maˇskim, Kommissar, Anwalt, Sachwalter,”
power of the official were analogized to the character of lesser divine beings,
demons. These demons were not to be treated lightly, just as the officials
should not be treated lightly. Like the officials, the demons possessed a dual
nature, both negative and positive: They could be benevolent or malevolent.
Their presence is ambivalent because of this contrast. They are found at
entrances of palaces and temples in order to protect and to attack.10
The analogy of sin to r ¯ abis.u reflects a conception of wrongdoing as a
powerful impulse that can either control Cain or be controlled by him, just
as the r ¯ abis.u can be beneficial as well as detrimental. Its dual nature is also
reflected in the use of the term tafj, which can refer to “sin” or “purification
from sin.” Furthermore, the root $br, while referring to a demon, is also twosided:
It is not necessarily meant in a threatening sense. The root $br signals
an animal in repose, referring mostly to domestic animals but also to wild
animals.11 Wild animals are potentially harmful but are of little immediate
threat while lying down in their lair.12 Similarly, the potent impulse to sin is
subject to the commands of its master, albeit requiring a firm hand in control.
The impulse to kill is also described in terms of the sexual urge.13 Sexual
desire can be powerful and capricious and can dominate the object of desire
if allowed to; it can be controlled by a stronger will. In short, the impulse to
kill may be capricious, it may be irrational, it may be powerful, but it can
be reined in. In other words, although the impulse to kill someone may be
sudden and overwhelming, the killer nonetheless bears responsibility for his
action because human beings have the capacity to control this impulse.
Attention is paid to homicide because it is an event of the utmost gravity.
Without a doubt, the most heinous violation of the social bond between
human beings is homicide. The story of Cain and Abel highlights the seriousness
by emphasizing the relationship between the brothers and by placing
homicide as the first crime by a human being against another human being.
Although there is no indication that the most heinous occurrence of homicide
is fratricide, the relationship is foregrounded by the emphasis on the fraternal
relationship between Cain and Abel: The word “brother” is repeated
RLA 7.449–455; M. L. Barr´e, “Rabis.u,” in Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the Bible (2nd
edition; ed. Karel van der Toorn, Bob Becking, and PieterW. van der Horst; Leiden: Brill, 1995),
cols. 1287–1290.
10G. E. Closen, “Der ‘Da¨mon Su¨nde,’” Bib 16 (1935), 436–440.
11John Van Seters, Prologue to History: The Yahwist as Historian in Genesis (Louisville,
Kentucky: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1992), 138.
12Cf. Gen 49:9; Ezek 19:2, 29:3; Ps 104:22.
13The word hqw`t appears three times in biblical Hebrew, Gen 3:16, 4:6; Song 7:11. Its meaning
in Song 7:11 is clearly “sexual desire; sexual urge,” which would work well in Gen 3:16.
However, it is unclear what sexual import this word would have in our passage, Gen 4:6.
Appeal to other languages yields nothing since there are no cognates. The appearance of this
rare word may be due to the construction of a parallel narrative, as we shall see, to Genesis 2–3
in Genesis 4 by the use of verbal reminiscences.
seven times within the episode, six of which are within the description and
aftermath of the murder (Gen 4:2, 8 [twice], 9 [twice], 10, 11).
The killing of Abel is presented in the Bible as the first crime in human
society.14 The heinous nature of the slaying of Abel is intensified by the
way the story is shaped. The story of Cain and Abel in Genesis 4 and the
story of the Garden of Eden in Gen 2:4b–3:24 have been composed to form
parallel narratives about human sinfulness. The narrative of Cain and Abel
has an almost complete verbal parallel with the previous story: Gen 4:7b,
“toward you is its desire, but you control it,” echoes Gen 3:16b, “Toward
your husband is your desire, and he will rule over you.” There are also striking
reminiscences of the story of the Garden of Eden in the story of Cain
and Abel: Gen 4:9, 10, 11 (“Where is . . . What have you done . . .You are
cursed . . .”), in parallel language to Gen 3:9, 13, 17 (“Where are . . . What
have you done . . .You are cursed . . .”). Both narratives possess the same
sequence of sin, investigation, and punishment, the equivalent use of dialogue
at the climax of the narrative, and attention to psychological analysis.
The “trial” takes place face to face. The pronouncement of punishment is
expressed in the form of a curse. The punishment itself is expulsion, and
the sentence is mitigated: God is responsible for the action that protects the
transgressor from the full consequences of the crime. The intention of the
author/compiler is unmistakable – to construct in Genesis 4 a narrative of
crime and punishment corresponding to Genesis 3. Cain’s deed is as serious
a transgression as Adam and Eve’s violation of God’s command.
Killing is serious because the harm done cannot be undone. An amount
stolen can be repaid. Embarrassment, medical fees, and lost work time can
be compensated in a case of assault. But Cain’s deed leaves behind permanent
harm whose repair is difficult. The !ymd, blood, of Abel cries out from the
ground. Although a casual reader might take this as a compelling metaphor
invented by a gifted writer, the image plays on a technical legal term for
responsibility for homicide, !ymd, “bloodguilt.” This term is derived from
14John Van Seters argues that Gen 4:1–16 assumes an earth populated with many people, not
the second generation of humanity, and therefore the story of Cain and Abel does not have a
primordial valence as does the story of the Garden of Eden (Prologue to History: The Yahwist
as Historian in Genesis, 136). By contrast, the narrative of Gen 2:4b–3:24 assumes a tone of
primeval time and origins. Enmity, for example, is established between the descendants of Eve
and the descendants of the serpent (Gen 3:15). Genesis 4 appears ambivalent in comparison to
Genesis 2–3, and it possesses both nonprimordial and primordial elements. The nonprimordial,
on the one hand, is reflected in the assumption of the institution of offerings to God in two
varieties, grain and first-born animals (Gen 4:3–4). The text does not present the punishment of
Cain as the practice to be established for all time (Gen 4:11–12). The occupations of Cain and
Abel as farmer and shepherd appear as typical, not prototypical (Gen 4:2). On the other hand,
this is in sharp contrast to Gen 4:20, where Jabal is explicitly named the first shepherd. Other
elements, the founding of a city and naming it after a child (Gen 4:17) and the designation of
individuals as the ancestors of people with certain occupations (Gen 4:20, 21, 22), suggest the
initiation of institutions of human society.
the sense that the spilled blood of the victim has a concrete existence of its
own and cannot be ignored.
The text uses other technical legal terms and institutions in the interrogation
and sentence of Cain.15 Cain denies that he is the rmw`, the guardian, in
equivalent English legal terminology, of his brother. Cain’s sentence is banishment
from his home, a punishment homologous to a forced stay in a city
of refuge.
Cain’s punishment is mitigated because of the assumption that all who
commit homicide are liable to be killed by whomever they meet and, therefore,
killers like Cain need protection. In biblical law, in fact, the number
of people who have the right to kill a killer is severely limited. The statutes
on homicide in the Bible give the general impression that there is anxiety
over what constitutes appropriate punishment. Indeed, God’s protection of
a killer in Genesis 4 seems at odds with the heinous nature of the offense
committed and the gravity of the punishment, yet as we shall see, it is in
consonance with the treatment of the punishment of the killer elsewhere in
the Bible, where protections are established for killers.
A literary text like Genesis 4 opens up the issue of the nature of literature.
The presence of legal elements, such as legal institutions, technical terminology,
and factors taken into account in the judicial process, in a literary text
poses questions about law in literature. Is it even valid to focus on the legal
elements in a literary text since it is not the intention of a literary text to
describe law per se? Even if it is deemed appropriate to interpret the legal
elements in a literary text, it must be asked to what extent the law and legal
practice are accurately portrayed when legal elements might be exaggerated
or attenuated for the sake of plot or character development or theological
exposition. Furthermore, Genesis 4 poses historical questions. Genesis 4
comes across as having a historical valence for the biblical author because it
purports to tell about what occurred in the most ancient of times. The issue
with Genesis 4, thus, is not simply a question of how accurate it is about
ancient practices but whether it is legitimate to use a literary text like this
one as a document to reconstruct history.
In sum, Genesis 4 is emblematic of the issues involved in the treatment
of homicide in the Hebrew Bible. The attention paid to the inner life of Cain
and to the understanding of sin reflects a preoccupation with determining the
responsibility of the slayer. This is expressed in Cain’s story by the exposition
on the impulse to sin and on Cain’s psychology, while in other biblical texts,
the intent of the killer is extrapolated from the manner of killing or from the
15David Daube, “Law in the Narratives,” in Studies in Biblical Law (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1969), 13–15. Daube also recognizes that being another person’s guardian was
not part of the social ethics enshrined in the Bible, but he proposes that the word rmw` was being
used in a metaphorical sense derived from the legal status of being a guardian of property or of
a city. Cf. Paul A. Riemann, “Am I My Brother’s Keeper?” Interpretation 24 (1970), 485–486.
prior relationship between victim and killer. The seriousness of homicide is
reflected in its selection as the first crime and in the amount of space devoted
to it elsewhere in the Bible. Abel’s blood crying out to God is not simply
a vivid phrase conjured up by an imaginative author for the tale of Cain.
It is something palpable that has an existence of its own, a problem that is
addressed by the biblical adjudication of homicide. And God’s protection of
Cain belies an anxiety over the appropriate punishment of a killer, an issue
taken up by other biblical texts. Lastly, the question of the nature of literature
and the debate over law and literature as well as the reconstruction of history
find their touchstone in Genesis 4. The adumbration of these critical issues
is not surprising considering the placement of this narrative at the beginning
of the first biblical book, which orients it into a myth of origin, providing a
cognitive map of sociopolitical norms.