The Bible: Commentary and Controversy

I’m not getting into the “word of God/allegory/fairy tale/divine inspiration” controversy; not my purview. The point is not what and how something was put into the Bible; the point is what you get out of it, and quite possibly what you were meant to get out of it. I believe it’s possible that the entire Bible has one goal: to tell us we must re-connect with a higher power.

In the old days (i.e., old testament) we have God as a real being who walks around and talks to people. Then in the new testament He disappears and we never see Him again (at least there are no documented accounts of His appearance that I find compelling.) So where did He go?

Well, quite obviously He went inside us. Except, of course, He was already there. But as I’ve said before in these posts, He needed to be visible in the early days to establish His presence as a reality and to give His chosen people (Moses, Joshua, etc., etc.) credibility.

But I digress. Let’s get to Cain and Abel. Everything seems to have been going along peachily until it’s time for the brothers to bring God an offering. Abel brings some of the firstborn of his flock; Cain brings some of his harvest. God checks out both offerings and decides Abel’s is acceptable, and Cain’s is not. Setting aside the obvious possibility that God doesn’t like tomatoes, or that He’s a capricious narcissist, why did He not find Cain’s offering as acceptable as Abel’s?

That seems to be another mystery no one can solve, because the Bible really doesn’t give us any clues. Note this is an “offering.” The word “zabach,” which means “to slaughter, kill, sacrifice, slaughter for sacrifice,” evidently doesn’t appear until Genesis 31:54, when Jacob offers “sacrifice upon the mount.” This “offering/sacrifice” seems to be pleasing to God, because Jacob isn’t struck by lightning as a result, and God doesn’t appear to him and tell him it’s unacceptable.

You might draw the conclusion that God’s a committed carnivore; that Abel’s “offering” gave him a taste for meat, which I personally find quite reasonable considering my limited appreciation of vegetables. (I’ll take bacon over zucchini any day.) And I see a seed of truth in it, because as far as I can tell, nowhere else in the Bible does anyone try to offer God a salad. From Abel on, it’s meat, meat, meat — even if that meat comes from your own son.

Oh, wait a minute. Just spitballing, here, but was Abel’s offering more pleasing to God because it was more of a sacrifice in the more modern sense? In other words, was it harder for Abel to part with some of his firstborn baby lambs than for Cain to come up with a basket of corn? That must be undeniably true.

So here we come to the point. Perhaps God liked Abel’s “offering” more because it meant more to Abel, not to God. Of course we can’t see into Cain’s heart the way God could, but it does make sense that we get more attached to a sentient being than to a carrot, no matter how tenderly we might have nursed it from seed to stalk.

This runs all the way through the Bible, as we know, even into the New Testament, where Jesus applauds the widow lady who gives her “two mites” while the rich men “cast their gifts into the treasury.” And Jesus says “this poor widow hath cast in more than they all… for she of her penury hath cast in all the living that she had.” She gave all she had, which the rich guys just threw something in from their wealth. Which meant more?

So obviously it’s not the size of the thing offered, or the type, or the quality, or the quantity; it’s the spirit in which it is given, and the degree of difficulty the giver has in parting with it. Remember Abraham?

So Abel brought something that he loved, and had nurtured, and was loath to part with, and Cain brought some really nice groceries. And God looked into Abel’s heart, and into Cain’s heart, and it was no contest.

Now, you can argue that it wasn’t really Cain’s fault. That he just wasn’t the kind of guy who understood what was really at stake. Of course we also don’t know what the rules were — what God had told them to do when “the appointed time” came. Or why there was an appointed time. Or what the occasion was.

So maybe God didn’t explain it properly to Cain, or maybe Cain wasn’t paying attention. Or maybe Abel was just a more sensitive person. Or maybe — and this has the ring of truth to it — he simply loved God more. Thought of Him more as a father than as a boss. Maybe Cain’s response was “Uh-oh. It’s the appointed time. I’ll get a basket of fruit together.” While Abel’s was “What is the most wonderful thing I can offer? Which of my possessions do I treasure the most?” Like my wife would have, Abel had probably been fretting about “the appointed time” for years, wondering what he could offer that would please Him most.

There’s no mystery to what happened next; it’s happening with appalling frequency today. A guy gets fired, finds a gun, goes back to the office and kills the guy who fired him, plus a bunch of other people — particularly, if he can find him or her, the person who took his place. Cain’s feelings are hurt, he gets jealous, flies into a rage, and kills Abel, primarily because he doesn’t see himself as the real source of his anger, and he can’t kill God.

And now you know… the rest of the story.