The Offering of Cain

There’s one part of the story of Cain and Abel that always bothered me: why wasn’t Cain’s offering good enough?

Cain was a farmer. He offered what he had: fruit. Abel was a shepherd. He offered what he had: sheep. Why is what the brothers offered more important than that they made offerings? I’d be angry and gloomy too if God held no regard for my offering. Now, it’s not Abel’s fault, and Cain definitely shouldn’t have let the anger consume him and lead him to kill his brother. But, why was his offering rejected to begin with? Does God really require flesh over fruit?

Well, it turns out that what they offered wasn’t equal (“he offered what he had”). Revisiting the text, Abel offered “from the firstborn of his flock and from their fat portions” (Gen. 4:4): the first and the best. Gen 4:3 says, “So it came about in the course of time that Cain brought an offering to the Lord from the fruit of the ground.” There’s a footnote after “course of time” indicating at the end of day(s). So while Abel offered his first and best, Cain offered his leftovers as an afterthought. Later, God will accept offerings of first fruits from His people. It’s not about what was offered but how it was offered. Abel wanted to give the best he had; Cain was willing to give something but not the first/best and didn’t make it a priority.

This is a big relief for me, because Christians aren’t sacrificing and burning animals on altars. Our altars hold bread and wine. I recently heard a priest refer to them as the offerings of Cain—we offer things from the earth. “They weren't accepted in Cain’s hands,” he said. “Should they be accepted in ours as suitable offerings before God?” Cain is marked because of his sin. If we are associating ourselves and our offerings with Cain, what does that say about us? Well, that we’re marked by sin. That’s not exactly a new revelation. But what do we have to offer except our sin-marked lives?

Offer to God the best of what you have, even if it’s not that good. Make Him a priority, not an afterthought. It’s not about what is offered but how it’s offered. God does not need perfect offerings. He wants them, but He also knows us and loves us. He knows we’re imperfect. And He’s given us the freewill to choose what to offer Him, or to offer nothing and go off to Nod. He takes our imperfect offerings, freely given, and makes them perfect. The bread and wine, fruit of the earth, becomes Christ, heavenly manna. The offering of Cain becomes the offering of Abel—the unblemished, first-born Lamb of God and our salvation.