Yahweh Loves The Mist
“An author walks, step by step
In stride with his creation,
The character in perfect joy,
Alive by desire within his writer,
Dew on blades of greenery,
Gentle fog in the cool of tree-shade,
Peace in context, rooted and true,
What sorrow, the loss of this perfection…”
The scriptures tell us that the first man walked with the creator of the universe “in the garden during the evening breeze,” painting a picture of Adam’s repetitive, peaceful, present, and joyful life alongside Yahweh God. And on the day when God went looking for him and found him trying to hide away… (that moment of overwhelming pit-in-God’s-stomach, dread-in-Adam’s-heart…) on that day the heartbreak which flowed from God’s own self was rooted in his desire for the protection and restoration of his beloved humanity. And the rest of the story of the scriptures details God’s beautifully creative and powerful decision-making as he solves this failed-intimacy-and-life problem.
When the man and woman are removed by God’s grief from the garden of life, it doesn’t seem like they travel very far. They live their life of exile right by the doorway back in. It paints a picture in my mind of them sharing stories with their children about the way that the fruit from the garden-trees used to taste back when they lived on the inside. Telling them wonderful tales of what it felt like to put good work into the soil and watch it produce without toil or hardship — nothing like this red dirt that taunts us year over difficult year. I wonder what it would’ve been like to be their children, growing up hearing those stories, and yet still knowing that God wants to know you. He wants to have a relationship with you. He speaks with gentleness and candor. Even still here, he gives you everything you need to live a full life, albeit not a perfect or unending one.
And then one day, you and your brother are out preparing your gift offerings to your creator God… thanking him for the way he still provides even here outside the garden. And you both bring what you have, for the reasons you have — you come to your own conclusions about how much of what you have you’re planning to offer up in tribute. But something curious happens: God seems to like your brother’s offering more. What’s that about? That would make you angry right? Doesn’t that seem unfair? And you know what? We don’t get a reason. The story doesn’t seem interested in describing whether this is fair or unfair. It simply doesn’t give us enough information to comprehend the gritty details. What we know, is that Cain became sad, distraught, and frustrated at the realization that what he brought to God was not received by him with joy. But herein lies one of the most fascinating stories in these beautifully puzzling scriptures. Right there on page three. “The LORD said to Cain…” (Gen. 4:6a, NET) and let’s stop there. Don’t miss it. Yahweh comes to Cain.
Yahweh God Comes To Cain
God comes to him. He speaks with him. Gently. Honestly. When Cain’s circumstances make him feel like life’s not fair, and like God’s not kind, God comes to him in love. And what does he say? Let’s keep going.
“Why are you angry, and why is your expression downcast? Is it not true that if you do what is right, you will be fine? But if you do not do what is right, sin is crouching at the door. It desires to dominate you, but you must subdue it.”
(Gen. 4:6b-7, NET)
What is it that’s truly making you angry Cain? Let’s look directly at it together. Let’s talk about it. Let’s spend time honoring your perspective, determining how valid it is. Let’s correct parts of it that might be off kilter. Let’s try to make sure we’re living in reality together. But the last thing God says to Cain can only be described as a warning. There’s this animal-like-crouching-prowling thing hanging out near the garden door called “sin” and it wants to eat you for breakfast. Don’t let it. You’re capable. It doesn’t need to win. You can do this. Listen to me. You can do this. You can subdue it. You must subdue it.
Unfortunately you probably know how this story goes… Cain becomes catnip for the prowler. Sin takes Cain over. And in this story what that means is that he finds himself caught in the grip of a devilish desire to murder his own brother. And sadly he follows through.
The next time Cain has an interaction with the source of all reality and truth and goodness he is faced with two questions: (1) Where is your brother Abel? And (2) What have you done? God asks Cain to come face to face with reality. Don’t hide from me. Speak the simple truth about what you’ve done. Speak. The truth. It’s reminiscent of something Jesus told his followers:
“The truth shall set you free.”
(Jn. 8:32, NET)
What that tells me is profound. As I read this scripture in light of Jesus’ insight, I come to realize that God invited Cain into actual freedom here even after his sin-infested-wreckage. God longed for Cain to come clean about the way that his sin had taken a chomp out of his life, and he pointed the way back for him to his truly-alive-walking-with-God-life. Speak. The truth. And it will set you free.
Yahweh God Loves Abel
But what really amazes me about this story is the part I haven’t referenced yet. God also tells Cain that Abel’s blood is crying out to him from the ground. Fascinating image, no? That red blood (heb. dam) which seeped into the red dirt (heb. adem) when that human (heb. adam) was killed by his very own brother, it is personified in a way that gives the thoughtful reader serious pause. The blood itself is like a person wailing in agony. Crying to his creator. In the spirit of extending the analogy, I wonder what the blood might say to God. “Lord I need you,” maybe? “Let justice flow like a river,” potentially. “Bring salvation,” probably. And what that means is God doesn’t only hear Cain, he hears Abel’s very blood as it hits the ground. His ear is on the tiniest detail, even the spattering, the imperceptible sound of Abel’s life force seeping into the dirt before his rightful time. God listens. And that is a truth which sets reality in its place. The murderer may hear that truth as a terrifying signal that there is no true escape from the justice our God will bring upon us all. To the victim, know that not only does our God hear your cry, but he even hears the imperceptible details of the way you’ve been wronged. He knows it better than you do, doesn’t he? He created this world. He defined the conditions we operate within. “If you do what is right, you will be fine.” And beyond such a convicting and comforting revelation, this story brings about something all the more precious:
God loves Abel. We don’t know what caused God to accept Abel’s offering in the first place, but we know that he did accept it, and we know that God avenges Abel’s murder by way of just punishment and consequence directed toward Cain. God loves Abel. Abel, whose name literally means “mist,” or “vapor,” or “smoke.” It’s the word that the author of Ecclesiastes uses over and over which we most often have translated as “vanity.” Abel is here one second, and gone the next (an ironic naming convention within the context of this story, I’m sure). But Abel is as fading as the lilies of the field, and yet God loves him. Dearly. It sounds like something else Jesus said to his followers, when he gave his famous sermon:
“Think about how the flowers of the field grow… And if this is how God clothes the wild grass, which is here today and tomorrow is tossed into the fire to heat the oven, won’t he clothe you even more, you people of little faith?”
My rabbi told me that I matter to the creator, even as quickly fading as my life may seem. God cares for me. He loves me. He loves Abel. He loves the mist. His creation is just that, his. And whether or not you receive that as good news or bad news really comes down to one thing, and one thing alone. What do you think your creator is like?
Well? What Do You Think He’s Like?
Cain is faced with a decision long before he decides to give into sin: whether or not to trust God. God told him, “isn’t it true that if you do right, you’ll by just fine?” but Cain has the opportunity to choose to believe that, or not believe that. If he would have chosen to believe it, that would have been the same as choosing that God is trustworthy. In many ways, it would have been the same as eating from the tree of life. Clearly though, that’s not the decision he makes.
Cain thinks God is an unfair judge.
Jesus thinks God brings blessing on the good and the bad.
Cain thinks God isn’t concerned with the method.
Jesus thinks the how matters much more than the what.
Cain thinks God doesn’t care about him.
Jesus thinks God loves the even mist.
Cain thinks God is like a dad showing favoritism.
I think God is like Jesus.
And that, my friends, is the best news ever.
May we receive that as the good news that it is. May we receive God’s warning about the prowler waiting at the door to pin us down and devour. May we choose to trust that true freedom is found in the practice of naming reality as it really is; in speaking the truth. May we know that God wants us to know life and freedom. That he loves Abel. That he truly wants to walk right there next to us, in the peace of the tree-shaded-garden. That he really is good. May we believe that he loves the mist.
May that be true.
(I took this photo near the foggy edge of a river in the Adirondacks, Spring 2020)
Biblical Studies Press, The NET Bible First Edition; Bible. English. NET Bible.; The NET Bible (Biblical Studies Press, 2005), Ge 4:6–7.
Biblical Studies Press, The NET Bible First Edition; Bible. English. NET Bible.; The NET Bible (Biblical Studies Press, 2005), Jn 8:32.
James Swanson, Dictionary of Biblical Languages with Semantic Domains : Hebrew (Old Testament) (Oak Harbor: Logos Research Systems, Inc., 1997).