This piece was written on an old electronic typewriter, which probably dates it to the late 1970s when we had that at home. A snapshot is given above of the original manuscript. Those were the days of "Tippex" for mistakes!
I rather think I was heavily influenced by G.K. Chesterton in writing style at that time, and I had also been reading works on existentialism at the time, including John Macquarie, and that also feeds through into this piece. I’d also read some Claus Westermann on the book of Genesis – a renown Old Testament scholar.
It’s an interesting vignette, a time capsule of my writing at the time, but a little bit too much “purple prose” for my liking, and while there are interesting ideas, I think they could be expressed better; as it is, the narrative arguments become rather difficult for me to follow now.
I was to be a lot clearer a few years later when I wrote my thesis at St Lukes, Exeter, “The Logic of Religious Discovery”, but by then my writing style had (I hope) improved, and I was probably more influenced stylistically by the unadorned prose styles of Karl Popper and George Orwell. That’s a style that I still feel happiest with today.
Unmitigated Circumstances.
The story of Cain and Abel is very old indeed, with roots stretching far back beyond the dawn of recorded history; it is very likely that this tale would have been part of a tribal tradition, passed ever on by word of mouth, until, eventually, it was written down in final form.
It is easy to spot the noticeable neglect of any clear details of time and place, and that lack of confusing cross-currents such as mark a recorded history; and this makes it certain that this is a folk-tale, or a legend, and not history.
To say this in no way depreciates the authority of the story; on the contrary, it is better understood as a cautionary tale than as an anecdote about ancestors. It is only a prejudiced materialism that dislikes legends, finding fault with them on the grounds that "they are not history"; yet it is just as logical to dislike Sherlock Holmes stories on the ground there was no real sleuth, or in other words, that those stories are also not history.
For the reasoning is the same in each instance, showing that the argument is groundless, serving only as an excuse to avoid any real thinking. we do not read the criminological exploits of the Great Detective to learn the history of Greater London; history has nothing to do with it, it is the Three Pipe puzzle which we ought to ponder. And, in like manner, reading a folk—story can provide plenty of food for thought, despite the fact that it is not history. The lesson is there, but it is up to us to find it. And the Story of Cain and Abel is a lesson of warning, a tale about temptation taking root.
As I have said, the story is a very ancient one, and as scholars have surmised, may well have had its origin in Babylonian tribal customs and rituals; it is related that Abraham came from Ur, and certainly Ur had known of many barbaric practices, perhaps derived from Babylon. So we may suppose that Abraham brought some tribal tales from the city; yet it also seems, as when he began a holy pilgrimage, those same tales were also purged and purified of all the stench of the city, all the evil of Us.
That Ur was an exceedingly wicked place is well illustrated by the "Death Pit of Ur", in which there were found the remains of seventy-four women, laid down as a human sacrifice in front of the king's grave.
As scholars say, there may remain traces of some such horrid rituals in the story of Cain and Abel, of a preference for a bloody, living sacrifice over the good grain of the land, yet such has faded into the background of the story as we have it now. It cannot be, as has been suggested, that Cain's ritual was unsuccessful because it did not involve a living sacrifice; the ending of the tale is with a living sacrifice, and a greater one than that of Abel, and no good came of that shedding of blood; it was not a triumph, but a tragedy.
Reading the story as it is, what is striking is the apparent unfairness of God. And I have noticed people give many excuses to explain away this apparent unfairness. Invariably, Cain is made to look the villain of the piece, he is given a jealous character, always displeased that Abel was given more attention as a child; or, alternatively, he is not the obvious ‘perfectionist that Abel was, and only brought any old crop to give to God, uncaring about its excellence. This certainly provides plenty of reason for God's rejection of his offering; yet, unfortunately, it is all groundless. There is no clear evidence one way or the other.
But when the question is asked: would such an imagined history of Cain's character give God some mitigating circumstances for acting as He did? - then it becomes all too readily apparent that the idea that Cain was already a bad character is only a device to get us out of a tight corner.
After all, if Cain was as wicked already, why did God bother to give him such a stern warning about not going off the rails? If we assume that Cain was a good-for-nothing lazybones (perhaps with a grudge against his brother), then that would lead us to expect God to give him an explanation, in the form of a harsh telling off; instead, we have what appears like a provocation, almost inviting Cain to feel worse about the matter. So in honesty, the idea that Cain was already flawed is a too simplistic solution, which really raises even more ponderous problems.
Let us assume that both brothers came to God with the same good faith, each bringing the best instance of offering. Had God rejected both, God would act fairly; if He had accepted both, God would act fairly; but to accept one and not the other seems to display an unfair favouritism. And given such a situation, the question must be asked: is God really good, fair, just in all his ways?
Certainly that was the problem posed for Cain; and with it arose that terrible temptation - to doubt the goodness of God. Had he overcome that temptation, had he trusted in God, then surely his trust would have been that much the greater, for having been tested, and found true? Yet he was found wanting: he distrusted the goodness of God, and sought a scapegoat to blame for what had happened. Seeing this, God warns Cain, that emphatic and terrible warning. But the warning went unheard; the only cry that arose was the sound of his brother's blood, crying out from the ground, that justice be done. So God punishes Cain with that harsh punishment that God alone may give: the brand of Cain, where justice is done, but mercy also leaves a mark.
It is when we refuse to take refuge in excuses, when we do not defend God by mitigating circumstances, that the whole actually fits together; then the tale is told: temptation in thought leading to temptation of action. But we are left to wonder of how mighty a man of God there might have been, if Cain had been tested but held firm to God's goodness; and how wise we would be to avoid the path he did take, that bloodstained road to hell.
I rather think I was heavily influenced by G.K. Chesterton in writing style at that time, and I had also been reading works on existentialism at the time, including John Macquarie, and that also feeds through into this piece. I’d also read some Claus Westermann on the book of Genesis – a renown Old Testament scholar.
It’s an interesting vignette, a time capsule of my writing at the time, but a little bit too much “purple prose” for my liking, and while there are interesting ideas, I think they could be expressed better; as it is, the narrative arguments become rather difficult for me to follow now.
I was to be a lot clearer a few years later when I wrote my thesis at St Lukes, Exeter, “The Logic of Religious Discovery”, but by then my writing style had (I hope) improved, and I was probably more influenced stylistically by the unadorned prose styles of Karl Popper and George Orwell. That’s a style that I still feel happiest with today.
Unmitigated Circumstances.
The story of Cain and Abel is very old indeed, with roots stretching far back beyond the dawn of recorded history; it is very likely that this tale would have been part of a tribal tradition, passed ever on by word of mouth, until, eventually, it was written down in final form.
It is easy to spot the noticeable neglect of any clear details of time and place, and that lack of confusing cross-currents such as mark a recorded history; and this makes it certain that this is a folk-tale, or a legend, and not history.
To say this in no way depreciates the authority of the story; on the contrary, it is better understood as a cautionary tale than as an anecdote about ancestors. It is only a prejudiced materialism that dislikes legends, finding fault with them on the grounds that "they are not history"; yet it is just as logical to dislike Sherlock Holmes stories on the ground there was no real sleuth, or in other words, that those stories are also not history.
For the reasoning is the same in each instance, showing that the argument is groundless, serving only as an excuse to avoid any real thinking. we do not read the criminological exploits of the Great Detective to learn the history of Greater London; history has nothing to do with it, it is the Three Pipe puzzle which we ought to ponder. And, in like manner, reading a folk—story can provide plenty of food for thought, despite the fact that it is not history. The lesson is there, but it is up to us to find it. And the Story of Cain and Abel is a lesson of warning, a tale about temptation taking root.
As I have said, the story is a very ancient one, and as scholars have surmised, may well have had its origin in Babylonian tribal customs and rituals; it is related that Abraham came from Ur, and certainly Ur had known of many barbaric practices, perhaps derived from Babylon. So we may suppose that Abraham brought some tribal tales from the city; yet it also seems, as when he began a holy pilgrimage, those same tales were also purged and purified of all the stench of the city, all the evil of Us.
That Ur was an exceedingly wicked place is well illustrated by the "Death Pit of Ur", in which there were found the remains of seventy-four women, laid down as a human sacrifice in front of the king's grave.
As scholars say, there may remain traces of some such horrid rituals in the story of Cain and Abel, of a preference for a bloody, living sacrifice over the good grain of the land, yet such has faded into the background of the story as we have it now. It cannot be, as has been suggested, that Cain's ritual was unsuccessful because it did not involve a living sacrifice; the ending of the tale is with a living sacrifice, and a greater one than that of Abel, and no good came of that shedding of blood; it was not a triumph, but a tragedy.
Reading the story as it is, what is striking is the apparent unfairness of God. And I have noticed people give many excuses to explain away this apparent unfairness. Invariably, Cain is made to look the villain of the piece, he is given a jealous character, always displeased that Abel was given more attention as a child; or, alternatively, he is not the obvious ‘perfectionist that Abel was, and only brought any old crop to give to God, uncaring about its excellence. This certainly provides plenty of reason for God's rejection of his offering; yet, unfortunately, it is all groundless. There is no clear evidence one way or the other.
But when the question is asked: would such an imagined history of Cain's character give God some mitigating circumstances for acting as He did? - then it becomes all too readily apparent that the idea that Cain was already a bad character is only a device to get us out of a tight corner.
After all, if Cain was as wicked already, why did God bother to give him such a stern warning about not going off the rails? If we assume that Cain was a good-for-nothing lazybones (perhaps with a grudge against his brother), then that would lead us to expect God to give him an explanation, in the form of a harsh telling off; instead, we have what appears like a provocation, almost inviting Cain to feel worse about the matter. So in honesty, the idea that Cain was already flawed is a too simplistic solution, which really raises even more ponderous problems.
Let us assume that both brothers came to God with the same good faith, each bringing the best instance of offering. Had God rejected both, God would act fairly; if He had accepted both, God would act fairly; but to accept one and not the other seems to display an unfair favouritism. And given such a situation, the question must be asked: is God really good, fair, just in all his ways?
Certainly that was the problem posed for Cain; and with it arose that terrible temptation - to doubt the goodness of God. Had he overcome that temptation, had he trusted in God, then surely his trust would have been that much the greater, for having been tested, and found true? Yet he was found wanting: he distrusted the goodness of God, and sought a scapegoat to blame for what had happened. Seeing this, God warns Cain, that emphatic and terrible warning. But the warning went unheard; the only cry that arose was the sound of his brother's blood, crying out from the ground, that justice be done. So God punishes Cain with that harsh punishment that God alone may give: the brand of Cain, where justice is done, but mercy also leaves a mark.
It is when we refuse to take refuge in excuses, when we do not defend God by mitigating circumstances, that the whole actually fits together; then the tale is told: temptation in thought leading to temptation of action. But we are left to wonder of how mighty a man of God there might have been, if Cain had been tested but held firm to God's goodness; and how wise we would be to avoid the path he did take, that bloodstained road to hell.
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