Rethinking Cain’s Famed Remark, ‘Am I My Brother’s Keeper?’

The Trial of Cain: A Jewish Courtroom Drama by Rabbi Dr. Dan Ornstein; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society; © 2021; ISBN: 0827614675; 232 pages; $20.93.

By Rabbi Dr. Michael Leo Samuel

Rabbi Dr. Michael Leo Samuel

CHULA VISTA, California — Rabbi Dan Ornstein’s excellent book, The Trial of Cain: A Jewish Courtroom Drama, reminded me of something I once did with a Confirmation class, where we acted out a scene from the book Sedra Scenes. The class really enjoyed doing Bibliodrama with the weekly portion.

This book, however, is written more for adults. Rabbi Ornstein writes toward the introduction of his book, obviously alluding to the response Cain most famously expressed: Am I my brother’s keeper?

As individuals, we might therefore feel we lack the influence to combat human violence and to effect positive change on a global level. However, each of us still plays a critical role in effecting change, through how we behave toward others in our daily lives. The popular contemporary concept of tikkun olam, “repairing the world,” through social justice, is founded in part on the mystical idea that each Jewish person helps God to heal the cosmos through mitzvot, Jewish ritual, and ethical commandments and practices. Yet tikkun olam takes place concurrently with what some teachers of Jewish spirituality call tikkun atsmi — “self-repair.” Rabbi Ornstein suggests that the story of Cain and Abel appears in the Bible to challenge every generation of readers— Jews, and, by extension, all human beings — to work at both kinds of repair.

The book’s strength is that it encourages the reader to think more situationally about one of the most important stories of the Bible. In general, many Christians tend to think of Adam and Eve’s sin in the Garden of Eden as the defining moment for humankind. But in Jewish tradition, we look at Original Sin as a crime not against God, so much, but rather as a sin against our fellow human beings. In Genesis 3, Adam blames Eve, then Eve blames the serpent, and the serpent doesn’t have a leg to stand on!

But the failure of not taking responsibility for one’s behavior remains one of the persistent themes we find throughout the Bible. Rabbi Ornstein masterfully weaves a tapestry of midrashic texts designed to elicit your response concerning Cain’s state of mind. When Cain “leaves” God’s Presence, we wonder: From where did Cain leave?
One said he “threw [‘left’] God’s admonitions about his behavior behind him, in an effort to deceive God.” A second explained, “He tried to ‘leave’ God with the false impression that he was penitent.” A third avowed, “He left God’s Presence a happy man, because he sincerely repented and God forgave him.” (Midrash Rabbah 1:191:-192). (pp. 14-15)

One of my favorite parts of the book discusses the question: “Am I my brother’s keeper?” (Gen. 4:9). Ornstein compares the word “keeper” to the guardianship God originally entrusted Adam and Eve with the responsibility of caring for the Garden of Eden. This divine imperative is given so that humanity will not let the world dissolve into a state of neglect and chaos. By caring for the world, God encouraged Adam and Eve to be co-partners in caring for the world. But in Cain’s mind, Ornstein argues, after the expulsion, all bets were off. “‘It is every man for himself.’ In that circumstance could You really expect me to be my brother’s guardian and keeper”? (p. 31).

When I read a book like this, I will often jot down some of my own questions and observations on paper. Whether one reads an ancient or modern perspective or interpretation, dialogue with rabbis is one way to keep the Bible’s moral message alive and challenging.

I would have added the term “shomer” also implies someone who acts as a shepherd and caregiver. Cain was, after all, a shepherd who cared for his flock. God also expects human beings to care for one another as God’s personal “flock.” Rabbi Ornstein’s comments here are excellent. In the event he updates his book in a second edition, I strongly recommend he include an exposition from the early 19th-century Baptist preacher, C.H. Spurgeon (1834-1892). His response to Cain’s question, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” will leave a lasting impression on anyone studying and contemplating that divine question.

I put it to the consciences of many silent Christians, who have never made known to others what God has made known to them, how can you be clear from guilt in this matter? Do not say, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” for I shall have to give you a horrible answer if you do. I shall have to say, “‘No, Cain, you are not your brother’s keeper, but you are your brother’s killer.’ If, by your effort you have not sought his good, by your neglect you have destroyed him.”

Yes, Jewish exegesis can also learn a lot from Christian wisdom.

In the end, you might wonder: How did the court rule? Rabbi Ornstein’s people’s court finds Cain guilty of willful homicide (p. 148).

There is one perspective Ornstein might have considered: Cain was not guilty of willful homicide, but was guilty of manslaughter. The reason for this argument is that death had not yet become known to the world. Perhaps Cain pushed his brother down a pit, where he fell upon sudden impact. This would explain why God is somewhat easy when dealing with him and his ultimate fate.

The city that Cain built thus became a “city of refuge,” which is the antecedent for the latter biblical legislation found in the Book of Numbers and Deuteronomy. Yet, even with this approach, I think Ornstein’s exegetical novelty of Cain participating in “restorative justice” fits just as well.

The Trial of Cain: A Jewish Courtroom Drama does a great job weaving midrash and exegetes alike and provides a grounded commentary on common sense and morality. To make the book even more relevant for Bible study groups and classes, Rabbi Ornstein included a discussion and activity guide to a community engaged in fruitful dialogue (pp. 185-196). Such a book is all the more necessary because of the dangerous times we are witnessing in our nation today. The story of Cain and Abel is a haunting moral allegory about the human penchant for violence that has caused untold suffering throughout recorded human history. As beings created in the image of the divine, the presence of moral evil in the world does not derive from God — it derives from human beings, and human beings alone.
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Rabbi Dr. Michael Leo Samuel is spiritual leader of Temple Beth Shalom in Chula Vista. He is the author of Rediscovering Philo of Alexandria, Maimonides’ Hidden Torah Commentary, and The Forgotten English Torah Commentator (2022). He may be contacted via michael.samuel@sdjewishworld.com