Abel is the first character in the Bible that we meet who worships God as he deserves. He brings the first fruits of his sheep as a sacrifice to God, but Cain did not, betraying his contempt for God. Rather than despising his brother, Cain should have humbled himself and followed his brother’s righteous example. But, in a fit of envy, Cain murders Abel. He spills innocent blood on the ground. The God who sees all, who sees in darkness as though it were daytime, confronts Cain with a rather peculiar question: Where is Abel your brother?
The question wisely draws out Cain’s heart and provokes him to respond, “I do not know; am I my brother’s keeper?” At this hard-hearted response, Yahweh replies, “What have you done? The voice of your brother’s blood is crying to me from the ground. And now you are cursed from the ground, which has opened its mouth to receive your brother’s blood from your hand” (Gen 4:10–11).
This personification of blood is intriguing for a few reasons. First, the Lord makes it clear that Cain’s deflection doesn’t hold water to the voice of his dead brother’s blood. We could attribute Yahweh’s awareness of this sin to his omniscience, but that’s not the reason God gives. Instead of saying, “I saw it happen,” God says “your brother’s spilled blood tells me otherwise.” Abel is appealing to God for justice.
Second, if we turn to the last book of the New Testament, we’ll notice that this is not an unfamiliar event. John recounts in his vision, “When he opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of those who had been slain for the word of God and for the witness they had borne. They cried out with a loud voice, ‘O Sovereign Lord, holy and true, how long before you will judge and avenge our blood on those who dwell on the earth?’” (Rev 6:9–10).
From the moment man left the garden, the murder of righteous saints became a reality. In one sense, Abel is the first martyr. All other martyrs follow in his footsteps—slain for their right worship of the true God. In fact, Jesus affirms this very typological relationship.
In Matthew 23, Jesus issues seven woes to the scribes and Pharisees. He refutes their claim that they would not have murdered the prophets like their fathers. But prophesies that “Therefore I send you prophets and wise men and scribes, some of whom you will kill and crucify, and some you will flog in your synagogues and persecute from town to town, so that on you may come all the righteous blood shed on earth, from the blood of righteous Abel to the blood of Zechariah the son of Barachiah, whom you murdered between the sanctuary and the altar” (Matt 23:34–35).
Jesus is referring to his apostles and disciples, who will soon spread the gospel throughout the earth, and who the Jews will hunt down and martyr. Therefore, Jesus in effect says the scribes and Pharisees are descendants of Cain. They have inherited not only his superficial worship, but his hatred of the righteous to the point of spilling blood.
The blood of Abel then, patterns the persecution of the righteous that will continue until Christ returns. However, it also demonstrates an universal, ethical principle: the spilled blood of an innocent man always incurs judgment. What was Abel’s blood saying when it cried out to God? The same thing that the martyrs cry out to God from underneath the altar: “Judge and avenge our blood!” The “word” that Abel’s blood spoke to God was one of condemnation. And if this principle is true, then that means that every time the blood of a human being is spilled unjustly, that blood condemns the individual who spilled it. Judgment is due.
This principle is true from Abel all the way to the last days depicted in John’s vision. Blood always condemns. Of course, the Old Testament gives us categories that non-human blood that can function in an atoning sense. But never are we to suspect that human blood can do anything but condemn.
That is, until the perfect Lamb of God spilled his blood for us.
We have come “to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel” (Heb 12:24). In a death of the most unsavory nature, Christ turned our expectations upside down. If Abel’s blood cries out for condemnation, then Jesus’s blood cries out for pardon. The “better word” that Jesus’s blood speaks is that of forgiveness for those covered by his blood.
Not only is this good news of pardon made available, but it is made available by the spilled blood of the Righteous One—a means that is utterly contrary to all expectation. We would have thought that Jesus’s blood would only condemn, just like all other innocently murdered men. But in fact, its primary voice is that of mercy.
In a marvelous act of wisdom, God unveils in Christ that the blood of the God-man does the exact opposite of Abel’s: It forgives.
Now make no mistake, Jesus’s blood indeed will condemn all who reject him, especially those who were immediately culpable for his crucifixion (Matt 27:25). Indeed, even Abel’s blood is still appealing to God for judgment, alongside all those who have been slain for the gospel (Heb 11:4) But the primary word of Christ’s blood is forgiveness. A word that he continues to speak over us before the Father (Heb 7:25).
In our tumultuous cities, we all feel the deep desire for justice to be done. We want God to bring about justice so that we can live peaceful and quiet lives. In light of recent events, there are two truths from which we can draw comfort and confidence.
First, God hears those who cry out to him. He hears Abel, and every saint who cries out to him for justice. God will not forget the innocents who trust in him to vindicate them. And he will remember the pleas for mercy of those guilty sinners who have been made righteous by Christ’s blood.
Second, God will sincerely bring about justice at the eternal judgment. We are not always able to discern who is guilty or innocent at present. And as Christians who stand upon the truth, we must strive to pronounce God’s sentence on the guilty, when that guilt is sufficiently clear. However, things are not always clear. It is in these scenarios that we must entrust the true, final judgment to God. We trust in the one who sees all things—whose judgments are not impaired by ignorance nor partiality. He sees the wicked and the just with unincumbered precision and will give to each according to their works. And on that final day, we will rejoice in the condemnation of the guilty (Rev 18:20; 19:1–2), and the redemption of the righteous (Rev 19:6–9).
Ultimately, we may not now see justice, but when Christ returns, we most certainly will. In the meantime, we must not get distracted or downcast. Instead, we must trust and proclaim the good and just God who will let no rebel escape his wrath, but all the more gives grace to sinners by the blood of his Son.
Kyle Jackson, 4th-Year Seminarian