Bereishit: Cain and Abel: A lesson how not to be a parent.

(Bereishit 4:1)

Most of us go through life with a child’s Bible story concept of the story of Kayin and Hevel (Cain and Abel). We recall that Kayin, a farmer, brought an offering of vegetables, and according to the Midrash not especially good produce.  Hevel by contrast, sacrificed a nice fat sheep. God preferred Hevel’s offering, triggering a jealous fit in Kayin – resulting in his murdering his younger brother.

Yet this is hardly the narrative one finds in Bereishit.

(Bereishit 4:3-4)

Based just on these two verses, one can conclude two things:

1. It was Kayin who took the initiative in terms of acknowledging God’s bounty, while Hevel took his cues from his elder brother’s action.
2. In a non-carniverous world, when consuming flesh was forbidden for all creatures, it was Hevel who violated the ethos by killing a sheep, while the agrarian Kayin had obeyed God’s ruling by bringing a strictly vegetarian offering.

(Bereishit 1:29-30)

Even the wild beasts were limited to a vegetarian diet. So where did Hevel get the idea that it was okay to kill a lamb, and that this would actually find favor in God’s eyes?

It appears Hevel was not merely a copycat. He was a rebel, even a provocateur, who took it upon himself to violate convention and spill blood in order to to end-run his brother and gain favor with the Almighty.

Thus, it is especially puzzling that God acknowledges Hevel’s offering while ignoring that of Kayin.

Not surprisingly, Kayin is crestfallen: …

(Bereishit 4:4-5)

Yet, contrary to our childhood Bible story notions, Kayin did not immediately murder his younger brother.  Rather God only now notices Kayin and his depressed state:

(Bereishit 4:6-7)

Verses 4 and 6 are cryptic to say the least. What motivation is God offering Kayin to enable him to lift his spirits? If anything, God sounds like the classic authoritarian father, utterly insensitive to his crestfallen child, telling him “Boy get a grip or things will only be worse for you”.

Not only does God offer no explanation as to why he would allow the killing of a sheep, but He  provides no explanation as to why Hevel’s offering was acknowledged while Kayin’a was ignored. And He certainly makes no attempt to lift Cain’s flagging spirit.

Kayin, in his misery, and with no one else to turn to, reaches out to his brother Hevel in one of the most incomprehensible, truncated verses in the entire Torah.

(Bereishit 4:8)

The big mystery here is what was the substance of the brothers’ conversation? The Torah offers no clue. But clearly whatever it was, it served as the straw that broke the camel’s back, pushing Kayin from simple misery into outright fury.

Now let us return for a moment to Bereishit 4:1.  Hava is impregnated by Adam, but she views God as her true partner. Adam merely serves as a biological conduit.  Understandably, therefore, Kayin and Hevel are raised to view God as their real father. The relationship is filial in a very direct sense.

For whatever reason, God favors Hevel.  Hence Kayin attempts to win favor with his father (God) – as every rejected child does – by presenting him with a gift.

The favored child, noticing his sibling’s attempt to win a sign of love, goes for an end-run. He cuts his brother off at the pass – thereby adding insult to injury when the father, yet again, gives the cold shoulder to the rejected child while showering affection on his favorite. What’s more, Hevel has the nerve to break the rules by making a gift that violates normative behavior, knowing he can, and will, get away with it.

And then, in a final blow to the rejected son’s already battered ego, God – as father – tells Kayin to get his act together, or else.

Left with no one to speak to, and hoping, foolishly, for a word of sympathy from the favored brother, Kayin approaches Hevel.  We are not privy to the conversation. Yet, from the terrible denouement we can readily surmise that Hevel did nothing to assuage his brother’s pain. If anything, it appears he may have poured salt on Kayin’s emotional wounds, resulting in the world’s first recorded case of fratricide.

For Biblical literalists (fundamentalists), who believe every story in the Torah is true, the legend of Kayin and Hevel as it appears in Bereishit is troublesome for the reasons stated above. And, it was no less troubling for CHaZaL, the Sages of the Talmud. Hence, as was their wont when a story doesn’t quite add up, they would craft a Midrash that would smooth over or clarify the nettlesome details. In fact, this is pretty much what Midrash is; literary plastic surgery to help explain – or explain away – a problem with the original text.

A classic example is when Avraham descends from Moriah after the Akedah, he is alone without Yitzhak (who had ostensibly been spared.) To airbrush away any perplexity over the glaring absence of Yitzhak, the Midrash tells us that he went to recuperate in the mythical Yeshiva of Shem and Ever, for which there is zero historical, literary or archaeological evidence.

Regarding the story of Kayin and Hevel, Rashi (whose commentaries are primarily Midrash-based) tells us that Hevel shunned farming because God had cursed the soil.  This is, of course, absurd. God had cursed the soil PRECISELY in order to make breadwinning difficult for humans. Hevel had no right, let alone justification, for defying God’s clear order to farm the land.

And Midrash Rabbah describes how Kayin’s offering was rejected because he brought inferior produce, not the best of his harvest, as if this explains God’s rejection.

Above all, at a time when even wild animals were forbidden to consume the flesh of another creature, Hevel was the first human being to actually spill blood. Bad enough he eschewed agriculture, but to kill an innocent lamb was unprecedented and unacceptable. And yet, God chooses Hevel.

With the Midrash-induced understanding that Hevel had a rationale for choosing shepherding over farming, and that God had a justification for rejecting Kayin’s offering, we are now meant to believe the story is historically factual. Yet, while this may work for a child, it really does not hold water despite CHaZAaL’s and Rashi’s best efforts.

I would suggest that this story is allegorical. The Torah never meant for it to be taken literally. Rather it is a lesson in pedagogy – or better yet a lesson in how NOT to act as a parent. It was given to us at a time when there was no prior parental experience to serve as an example. Hence a story is needed to illustrate some key points in parenting,

The legend of Kayin and Hevel is a cautionary tale.  A demonstration of what happens when a callous parent plays favorites; when a child in pain is given a dressing down rather than a warm embrace. When a favored child, knowing he can get away with anything, aggravates his sibling’s emotional wounds.

Despite this brilliant illustration of what not to do, it happens all the time.  The pattern is classic. And, while fratricide is rarely the outcome, there often ensues a lifetime of pain and estrangement, of being lost perpetually in the emotional wilderness of Nod. And we are also given a first illustration of מידה כנגד מידה – measure for measure.  Hevel was the first to shed the blood of an animal. In turn, his was the first human blood to be shed.