Parshat Beresheet

Parshat Beresheet
October 24, 2008/24 Tishrei 5769

"Your brother's blood cries out at me from the ground!" (Genesis 4:10)

A few days ago, we celebrated Simchat Torah, the festival of ending the annual reading of the Torah and the beginning of a new cycle. Consequently, this week we no longer find ourselves wandering in the Desert, but back once again at the Beginning of the World.

One of the most famous accounts from Parshat Beresheet is the story of Cain and Abel. When God favors Abel's offering over that of his brother Cain, the elder brother commits the first murder in human history. When God shows up and asks Cain about the location of Abel, Cain feigns ignorance saying: "I don't know. Am I my brother's keeper?" God responds by calling his bluff: "What have you done? Your brother's blood cries out at me from the ground!" Cain is cursed to wander forever as punishment for his crime.

There are voices in the Jewish tradition, which suggest that Cain did not get a fair deal. After all, Cain had no prior experience with death, therefore it seems unjust that God holds him responsible for a crime he didn't even know that he could commit.

One midrash (rabbinic legend) goes even further, it suggests that while Cain really isn't to blame, Someone else is:

"Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai said: This is a difficult thing to say and it is impossible to say it clearly [so I will use a parable]: Once two athletes were wrestling in front of the king. If the king wanted, the two could be separated, but the king didn't want them separated, and one killed the other. The loser cried out as he died: 'Who will get justice for me from the king?' That is why it is written: 'Your brother's blood cries out at me from the ground'" (Genesis Rabbah 12:9)

This Midrash places the blame for Abel's death squarely with God. God is compared to an indifferent king, who might have separated the dueling brother's before the bloody end, but failed to do so. Abel's blood isn't crying out to God about Cain's guilt, it's crying out against God, accusing Him of negligence!

What I love about this Midrash is that Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, one of the great sages and mystics of the Jewish tradition, sees no contradiction between his own deep religiosity and a his willingness to accuse God of being unfair. Many of us have internalized the message that being religious means meekly accepting tragedy as "God's will." The Midrash challenges that assumption and teaches us that piety does not mean being a doormat-- crying out at God is sometimes exactly what the religious conscience demands.

Our Tradition grants us permission to be angry at God, to question and to challenge. That is not an expression of lack of piety-- rather, it's the highest embodiment of what it means to be Am Yisrael, the People who Wrestle with God.