Blood Covenant Origins

by C. A. Gray

  “I don’t have flocks, I have fruit!” I shouted. “You want me to offer what I don’t even have?”

  “You could have respected My words and asked your brother for an offering,” the Lord chided. “Instead you offered Me not even the best of what you had, but your leftovers. Your brother’s heart is to serve and obey Me. Your heart longs only for your own glory.”

  I kicked the basket with the last of my offering as hard as I could, and the rotted fruits and vegetables spilled out upon the ground.

  “Fine!” I shouted at the sky, and stormed off in the direction of my tent.

  I did not sleep at all that night. I was too angry. Finally when I rose in the early morning before dawn, I went outside my tent and the Lord spoke to me.

  “Why are you angry? And why is your face gloomy? If you do well, will your face not be cheerful? And if you do not do well, sin is lurking at the door; and its desire is for you, but you must master it.”

  “Is sin a person?” I shot back, making a mocking show of looking around me. “I see no serpent here!”

  The Lord said nothing more. I huffed and turned toward my fields. But on the way I saw my brother Abel crossing to where his flocks grazed.

  I had never liked Abel; not from my earliest memories. But as I watched his silhouette in the early morning light, I was seized with a new feeling that felt almost like it came from outside of me: a sudden, searing hatred.

  The Lord accepts him, but not me, I thought. My family accepts him and not me. He sneers and laughs at me behind my back.

  Abel deserves to die , I thought with sudden realization. My life would be better if Abel were dead. The thought brought with it a sort of steely resolve.

  I watched my brother’s movements. considering now. I was far stronger than he was; I could probably overpower him with my bare hands, but he still might struggle. It would be better if I had a weapon of some kind. I seized one of my sharpened stone pickaxes used for tilling the ground, and slung it casually over my shoulder as I went to meet him. He would think nothing of this; it was a tool of my trade.

  “Abel!” I called out, keeping my tone light and friendly. I did not want him to be on his guard.

  He was anyway, though; I could see it from his expression. Probably my very friendliness made him wary, unusual as it was.

  “Cain,” he replied, his tone guarded. “You are up earlier than usual.”

  I shrugged as I closed the distance between us. “I couldn’t sleep,” I explained. Then I heaved a dramatic sigh. “I was thinking about your offering to the Lord. Your offering of blood.” He watched me with a frown, and I went on, my tone dripping with honey, “I made Him an offering of the produce of my ground, but He told me He was not pleased with that, as He was with your offering.”

  “I… would be happy to give you a lamb from my flocks to offer,” Abel said, searching my face. I noticed that he squared his stance toward me, though. He must have sensed that something was amiss.

  I shrugged. “It need not be a lamb, though, right?” I said. “What matters is that it’s a sacrifice… of blood .”

  I lunged at him as I said this, swinging my pickaxe directly at his skull. His eyes widened, and he barely had a chance to throw his hands up over his face before I was upon him. The confrontation lasted only seconds. Then the deed was done.

  Abel’s body crumpled, and a strange mixture of elation and nausea rolled over me at once. There was so much blood. It stained the ground, my hands, my axe, my clothing…

  Horror succeeded the elation as the enormity of what I had just done struck me, followed by waves of panic. I had to hide the body. I had to pretend I had no idea what happened to Abel. He went out into the wilderness and was mauled by a wild beast! I decided. But no, we had dominion over the animals and Abel knew this—he would not have permitted a beast to attack and overpower him. Perhaps he was tending flocks too close to a ravine, and fell in! Yes, that’s what I’d suggest, once enough time had elapsed…

  As I thought all of this, I hooked my forearms beneath Abel’s armpits and dragged the body to an area where the soil was loose enough to dig a grave where I could hide his body. My heart hammered in my chest as I dug, racing against the sun as it rose. The later the hour, the more likely that my other brothers and sisters, or my parents, might happen upon me. In my haste, I dug only a shallow grave, shoveling dirt on top of my brother’s body as fast as I could. Then I ran over to the place where I had struck him, and mixed the dirt there too, to hide the stained blood among the soil. I was pouring sweat by this time.

  When it was done, I fell to my knees, panting. The blood that had been on my own hands and arms had now been obscured by the dirt, but the skins I wore were still stained. I hurried back to my tent, and changed into another garment. Then I took the one I had been wearing back to the altar and burned it. That way the ashes would mingle with the ashes already present, leaving no trace.

  “Where is Abel your brother?”

  My heart galloped all over again as I heard the Lord’s voice, just as I finished this task.

  “I do not know,” I shot back before considering. “Am I my brother’s keeper?” Some part of me knew this was useless. How had it not occurred to me earlier that even if I managed to keep what I had done secret from my family, the Lord would still see?

  “What have you done?” the Lord demanded. “The voice of your brother’s blood is crying out to Me from the ground. Now you are cursed from the ground, which has opened its mouth to receive your brother’s blood from your hand. When you cultivate the ground, it will no longer yield its strength to you; you will be a wanderer and a drifter on the earth.”

  This struck me like a blow. I was banished . And not banished only to find a new land—I would never find a new land, would never be prosperous enough to settle anywhere else! I sank to my knees, and buried my face in my filthy hands. “My punishment is too great to endure!” I wailed. “You have driven me from the face of the ground; and I will be hidden from Your face, and I will be a wanderer and a drifter on the earth. Whoever finds me will kill me!”

  A soft breeze rustled around me, like a caress. In the midst of this, I felt a burning sensation upon my forehead and cried out. On instinct, my hand flew to my skin, and when the burning receded, I felt an indentation that had not been there before, like a brand.

  “Whoever kills Cain, vengeance will be taken on him seven times as much,” the Lord said to me, His tone surprisingly gentle. It brought tears to my eyes. I knew what I deserved was death, and instead the Lord had shown me mercy. He would drive me away from the land where my parents dwelt, yes—but after what I had done, I realized I would have gone anyway. “Behold, this mark will protect you from any of your brothers and sisters who might find you.”

  I fingered the mark, wondering what it was. With a heavy heart, I trudged back toward my tent and collapsed it, tossing all my scant belongings in its center and then closing it up again to use as a sack.

  I did not know where I would go, nor what I would do. The Lord had told me I would be a nomad for the rest of my life. But I would not die. At least not today.

  When I came upon a pool of clear, still water, I remembered the brand upon my forehead and crept toward it to see my reflection. I saw the new brand there and wondered at it. It was just two simple intersecting lines, the horizontal one shorter than the vertical.

  Like a cross.

  Afterword

  I extrapolated a lot, of course, as this story is very short. But I am guessing that Cain’s decision to commit the first murder against his own brother was not the work of a single moment of jealousy. How common for an older only child to envy a new arrival who steals away his parents’ attention—so I assumed the strife between Cain and Abel began with Abel’s birth. By the time the boys grew up and assumed their respective professions, presumably there were a lot more children in the family, but the first rivalry may have still burned hottes
t. The issue of the sacrifice to the Lord, in my retelling, was just the final straw.

  There is no indication that God ever told Adam and Eve, or Cain and Abel, that he required sacrifices, though this story shows that God was still speaking to them regularly. The sacrifice for Adam and Eve’s clothing in the garden surely led to a conversation, and I cannot imagine that it would have been Abel’s own idea to sacrifice the firstborn of his flock. The concept of blood covenants is found in nearly every ancient culture, probably because all of them carried down the knowledge first imparted to their ancestors directly from God. God accepted Abel’s sacrifice and rejected Cain’s because Cain’s offer did not involve blood: the necessary sin offering which would ultimately have its fulfillment in the redemptive blood of Christ. Many times in the Old Testament, God insisted that things be done just so, and did not bother to explain why, as presumably the people at the time would not have understood the bigger symbolism He was trying to achieve until later generations would have the benefit of hindsight. He insisted that the tabernacle and later the Temple be designed in exact imitation of its heavenly counterpart, for instance (Hebrews 8:5). The lamb for the sin offering had to be an unblemished male, etc.

  But Cain was a farmer. He had no flocks of his own to offer, unless he borrowed or traded for one from his brother. Yet presumably God told all of them that this was what He required, and Cain decided to offer something else on his own anyway. The Mosaic law does later make provision for a firstfruit offering from the soil (Exodus 34:26), but this was not a sin offering; the firstfruits offering was meant to honor and show dependence upon God, rather than upon the fruits of one’s own labors. God’s response here suggests that Cain tried to offer fruits as a sin offering despite God’s instructions. I also chose to depict Cain as offering leftover rotted fruit rather than the first and the best of what he had, since to me, this seems consistent with the attitude of his heart.

  God’s statement to Cain when He rejected Cain’s offering is, “If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well, sin lies at the door. And its desire is for you, but you should rule over it” (NKJV). Andrew Wommack’s interpretation of this verse is very interesting, and different from the face value of the translation. The Hebrew word translated sin here is elsewhere translated as “sin offering,” which has almost an opposite meaning. The word desire is the same word used in Genesis 3:16 when God said Eve’s desire would be for her husband, “and he would rule over her,” indicating Adam’s headship. The pronouns are what made the sentence confusing, making it seem as if the subject is sin personified, rather than Cain himself—but Young’s Literal Translation has this verse as “Is there not, if thou dost well, acceptance? and if thou dost not well, at the opening a sin-offering is crouching, and unto thee its desire, and thou rulest over it.” Wommack’s interpretation is that God was telling Cain that if he would offer the right kind of sin offering, he could have his desire of headship over Abel as his birthright as firstborn. This makes sense: God is not just warning Cain, but offering him a way to have what he wants, if he’ll do things God’s way. The other interpretation of the verse may be correct also, though: that “sin” personified (as Satan) desired to have Cain, and Cain must “resist the devil and he will flee” (James 4:7). Both of these seem scripturally consistent to me. In my retelling, I intended to suggest that an unseen entity suggested murder to Cain, and Cain complied.

  The most incredible part of this story to me is how God responded to Cain’s sin. There was no law yet, against murder or anything else (this was part of the Noahic covenant, in Genesis 9:6). Until the law was given, God did not punish man’s sin (Romans 5:13), at least not as harshly as He would later when they “officially” knew better. Instead, God actually placed a mark upon Cain to protect him from his vengeful family.

  What was this mark? The scriptures don’t say, but given the heavy symbolism elsewhere in scripture, always alluding in some way to the blood of Christ as a payment for sin, I’m sure it was in some way related to the cross.

  The Scriptures

  Genesis 4:1-15

  1 Now Adam knew Eve his wife, and she conceived and bore Cain, and said, “I have acquired a man from the Lord.” 2 Then she bore again, this time his brother Abel. Now Abel was a keeper of sheep, but Cain was a tiller of the ground. 3 And in the process of time it came to pass that Cain brought an offering of the fruit of the ground to the Lord. 4 Abel also brought of the firstborn of his flock and of their fat. And the Lord respected Abel and his offering, 5 but He did not respect Cain and his offering. And Cain was very angry, and his countenance fell. 6 So the Lord said to Cain, “Why are you angry? And why has your countenance fallen? 7 If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well, sin lies at the door. And its desire is for you, but you should rule over it.” 8 Now Cain talked with Abel his brother; and it came to pass, when they were in the field, that Cain rose up against Abel his brother and killed him. 9 Then the Lord said to Cain, “Where is Abel your brother?” He said, “I do not know. Am I my brother’s keeper?” 10 And He said, “What have you done? The voice of your brother’s blood cries out to Me from the ground. 11 So now you are cursed from the earth, which has opened its mouth to receive your brother’s blood from your hand. 12 When you till the ground, it shall no longer yield its strength to you. A fugitive and a vagabond you shall be on the earth.” 13 And Cain said to the Lord, “My punishment is greater than I can bear! 14 Surely You have driven me out this day from the face of the ground; I shall be hidden from Your face; I shall be a fugitive and a vagabond on the earth, and it will happen that anyone who finds me will kill me.” 15 And the Lord said to him,“Therefore, whoever kills Cain, vengeance shall be taken on him sevenfold.” And the Lord set a mark on Cain, lest anyone finding him should kill him.

  Noah and the Flood

  I knew how my forefather Adam must have felt in Eden, when God brought all the animals to him to name, and he realized that none of them were of his own species. Every other creature operated on instinct; none could talk or reason, as he could. There was no one to whom he could relate, except to God Himself.

  That was exactly how I felt. I was born a little over a thousand years after Adam’s expulsion from the garden, yet so much had happened in that millennium that the world probably would have been quite unrecognizable to my forefathers. Many of the people of my generation were giants: mighty, exceedingly beautiful, and proud. They called themselves the Nephilim. Yet to me, they seemed like animals, guided by their worst emotions and their basest instincts. Their perversion, cruelty, and injustice knew no limits. My mother was one of three good people I ever knew—the other two were Enoch, my great-grandfather, and Methuselah, my grandfather. Methuselah told me how his father was so close to God that the Lord took him to be where He was before Enoch had even died. He also told me the story of the Garden of Eden and what had happened there. My mother told me about Lucifer’s betrayal in heaven, and about the angels who had rebelled against God with him and had been cast down to the earth.

  “When they fell, they roamed to and fro, seeking whom they might devour,” my mother had told me when I was a child. “After Adam gave his dominion of the earth to Lucifer, his demonic angels gained authority that God never intended for them to have. In the garden, Lucifer could only share the body of one of God’s physical creatures. But afterwards, Adam’s transgression tore the veil between heaven and earth, allowing fallen angels to appear to human women and seduce them. This was the origin of the Nephilim.”

  My eyes went wide when I heard this for the first time a child. “So… they are not even human ?”

  My mother shook her head, and put a finger to her lips. “Not entirely, but you mustn’t say that too loud. Those in power want you to believe that they are all sons of Adam, making them the rightful heirs of the earth, but it is not so. They are usurpers. And I will tell you what I think: this is all a strategy of Lucifer to thwart the Lord’s prophecy.”


  “Which one?” I asked her, breathless. “The Seed of Eve?”

  “The very same,” she nodded, speaking in a whisper. “If Lucifer can co-mingle the blood of angels with the blood of men, there will no longer be a pure line of Adam and Eve from which God can bring the promised Seed. This is what I believe he wants to do! This is why I married your father, even though—” she hesitated, and I saw the pain on her face. I understood what she meant, though. I was old enough by now to see that my father did not share my mother’s piety toward the Lord, nor her innate sense of decency. But my father was of average looks and normal stature. He was human, at least. That was what she meant.

  “So when you come of age, Noah,” she continued, her voice still hushed, “you must do the same. Seek a godly wife if you can, but seek a wife of pure bloodline at least, even if she too is wicked. I will pray to the Lord that He will preserve such a woman for you!”

  I had done as my mother commanded. I kept myself aloof from nearly everyone of my generation as I grew into manhood, walking and talking with the Lord instead. I was a carpenter by trade, building structures for houses and for businesses. When I was not working, I roamed the lush green hills, admired His fruit and flowers, streams and waterfalls, and creatures, great and small. I spent weeks at a time out in the forests, protecting the smaller creatures from their predators. At least these animals were innocent; they had no laws of right and wrong written upon their hearts, as I had, and as I therefore knew all of my kind must have also.

  Whether that applied to the Nephilim or not, I had no idea.

  Most of the time, even God did not talk back. I longed for the fellowship Adam had enjoyed with God, and I believed that He wanted the same thing with me. But I understood that everything had changed after the garden. He could not walk and talk with me, the way He had with Adam. There was a rift between us that only the Seed of Eve could overcome. Someday.

  As the years passed, I searched for a woman who met the criteria my mother laid out for me, while keeping the rest of society at arm’s length. I could tell almost by sight whose bloodline was pure and whose was not. A woman named Judith caught my eye: she was average looking and of average height, and seemed quiet and retiring like me. While she lacked the passion for righteousness that burned within my breast, other people seemed to overwhelm her, and she too seemed to prefer the countryside and the company of animals. My father approached her father, and a match was made.