Am I My Brother's Keeper? - Moving Forward After the Oregon Shooting

This week, we once again begin “In the Beginning” with the story of the Creation of the World.  We meet the first human beings, Adam and Eve; we celebrate the first Shabbat; we discover the first moment of love; we watch the birth of the first child.  Life seems idyllic, truly peaceful.  Unfortunately, shortly after the world was created, we also experience the first moments of pain, of struggle, and of death.

Many of us know the story of Cain and Abel, the story of the first murder.  The two brothers were complete opposites: Abel a shepherd was giving and big hearted, while Cain, a farmer, thought only of himself.  The two brought gifts to God: Abel shared his most precious animal, while Cain brought ordinary vegetables.

Cain became jealous of his brother’s many successes.  The Torah teaches, that in midst of a field, Cain approached Abel and killed him.  Afterwards, God asks Cain, “Where is your brother Abel?”  Cain replies: “I do not know.  Am I my brother’s keeper?”

These famous words, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” are renowned throughout history.  Interestingly, Cain never receives an answer to his question.  What follows is silence.  Cain is punished, required to wander the earth.  But, why does God fail to answer Cain’s question?

When God finally addresses Cain, God tells him: “your brother’s blood cries out to Me from the ground!”  The word blood, damim, is in the plural.  It should be translated as bloods, “your brother’s bloods cry out to Me…”  The rabbis teach that Cain did not only kill Abel, he also killed all of Abel’s future descendants; an entire family line was uprooted in this murder.

As I reflected upon the story of Cain and Abel, my thoughts turned towards the rampant gun violence that pervades our society.  Just as Abel’s blood cries out to God, so too do we hear the cries of innocent victims murdered last week in Oregon.  We mourn the loss of life, of families broken, of entire family lines uprooted.  Recently, I recognized how desensitized I have become to the many shootings that seem to occur month after month.  There have been too many deaths from gun violence: from Virgina Tech, to Columbine, to Charleston, and now to Oregon, and many more.  Every few weeks another massacre occurs and yet nothing seems to change.  There are words of mourning, eulogies delivered, but once again life returns back to normal.  Time after time, my thoughts turn back to Cain’s question: “Am I my brother’s keeper?” and God’s silence.

As one of the first human beings, Cain might not have known the power he possessed in his hands.  As only the third person in the world, Cain was still figuring out how life worked, how relationship worked, how anger and violence worked.  Was his crime solely the murder of his brother or could his crime be something even more profound?

I believe that the words “Am I my brother’s keeper? - are the true essence of this story.  Yes, Cain murdered his brother, this was his sin.  But, I believe that his crime was deeper than that.  Cain had an inability to recognize his responsibility for others.  Cain showed no remorse and did not seem to care that his brother was gone. 

That’s why God never answers Cain directly.  In the silence, God affirms that Cain must find the answer himself.  Yes, God punishes Cain, but God wants Cain and all those that follow after him, including us, to discover our responsibility to care for and watch out for all of humanity.

Cain didn’t discover the answer to his question as he used brunt force or after the crime was committed.  It was only later, that he was able to change and to grow.  The Torah teaches that when God doled out punishment for the crime, Cain tells God, “My punishment is too great to bear!”    The word avon – punishment – is often translated as sin.  Cain tells God: “My sin is too great to bear!”  Here, we witness a different Cain; a man who is aware of his failings, who has finally taken responsibility for his actions.  At this moment, he begins that process of teshuvah, of repentance, and taking on the repercussions of his actions.

In many ways, after each shooting, after each massacre, I feel like I’ve stepped into Cain’s shoes.  I recognize how desensitized I’ve become to the violence; how powerless I feel to change anything; how complacent I’ve become with the status quo.  After each shooting, I hear myself asking: “Am I my brother’s keeper?” Yet, all I hear is silence.  Cain found the answer himself and changed his ways.  So too, after each massacre, must each of us, and our elected officials, look deeply into that silence, answer the question, and move forward.   Judaism teaches that “to save a life, is to save the world.”  By preventing one murder, we will save a family, a community, and a world.