This source sheet is part of the larger Ta’amei HaPardes Commentary, a project of the Pardes Institute of Jewish Studies. This is sheet 7 of 16 on the topic of TORAH.
(ו) וַיֹּ֥אמֶר יהוה אֶל־הָ֑יִן לָ֚מָּה חָ֣רָה לָ֔ךְ וְלָ֖מָּה נָפְל֥וּ פָנֶֽיךָ׃
(6) And יהוה said to Cain,“Why are you distressed, And why is your face fallen?
This verse contains the first of five rhetorical questions posed by God to Cain. In the verses ahead, we will explore the significance of God’s choosing this style in communicating with Cain.
(ז) הֲל֤וֹא אִם־תֵּיטִיב֙ שְׂאֵ֔ת וְאִם֙ לֹ֣א תֵיטִ֔יב לַפֶּ֖תַח חַטָּ֣את רֹבֵ֑ץ וְאֵלֶ֙יךָ֙ תְּשׁ֣וּקָת֔וֹ וְאַתָּ֖ה תִּמְשׇׁל־בּֽוֹ׃
(7) Surely, if you do right, There is uplift. But if you do not do right Sin couches at the door; Its urge is toward you, Yet you can be its master.”
In a rare act of preemptive intervention, God delivers a message to a dangerously agitated Cain. But, as we will see, God’s words, conveyed in verse 7, are riddled with ambiguities, with lacunae, and with other difficulties. In fact, this verse has the distinction of being labeled by the Talmud as one of five biblical verses whose basic structure, and hence whose ultimate meaning, is impossible to definitively ascertain. In an effort to best capture the intent of God’s obscure instruction, we offer selections from various translators and commentators, along with possible alternative readings.
Is it not thus, הֲל֤וֹא
The plain sense of the word ha-lo is the rhetorical “is it not thus.” As such, the verse’s opening is consistent with the rhetorical nature of God’s words in the verses surrounding it. As we read on, we will note the significance of the rhetorical style in helping to deliver the divine message. (Rhetorical Questions)
if you improve, אִם־תֵּיטִיב֙
Rashi, basing his reading on that of Targum Onkelos, and noting the causative construction (the hif’il) of the word teitiv, translates this word as “improve.” But improve what? Missing from the verse is the object necessitated by the transitive verb. Rashi supplies the missing object, which, he believes, is implied: if you will improve your deeds. But the immediate context of God’s words is not Cain’s most recent deed – i.e., his offering. Rather, it is Cain’s furious frame of mind: his fierce competitiveness with, and resentment of, his brother who has upstaged him, his anger at himself for failing to excel, and perhaps most intensely felt, his indignation at God’s rejection, of both his gift and of him personally. As a result, we might argue that the implied object of the word teitiv is more along the lines of: if you will improve your destructive responses to life’s failures… (Syntax, Grammar, Context)
uplift, שְׂאֵ֔ת
Simply translated, the word se’et is a noun, and means “uplift.” But without a verb attached, we are left with the very awkward: “if you improve [your responses]…uplift.” The NJPS translation addresses this problem by inserting the verb “there is,” which, although absent from the text, may be inferred. Such insertions of the unstated verb “to be” are permitted according to the rules of Hebrew.
But even with the insertion of the verb “to be,” God’s words remain enigmatic. To what kind of uplift does God refer?
Rashi, basing himself on Onkelos’s translation, understands se’et to be a shortened form of se’et avon, meaning forgiveness. But more persuasive is Ibn Ezra’s reading of the word. We recall that in the previous verses, Cain’s face “fell,” a result of his anger and dejection at his failure and at God’s rebuff. Now, claims Ibn Ezra, God offers Cain the corrective to his fallen face. If Cain would control his tempestuous reaction to failure – both his toxic inner disappointment and his futile tendencies to blame others – if he would resolve to act constructively, taking responsibility for his actions and living up to his own highest standards, his fallen face would transform itself into a state of “uplift.” (Syntax, Grammar, Intertextuality, Context)
and if you do not improve [your deeds], at the opening sin crouches, וְאִם֙ לֹ֣א תֵיטִ֔יב לַפֶּ֖תַח חַטָּ֣את רֹבֵ֑ץ
Suddenly, and significantly, the word “sin” (hatat) appears for the very first time in the Bible. Six verses hence, another term for sin, avon, will be employed. The double occurrence of “sin” in the Cain and Abel story is especially striking given its absence throughout the Garden of Eden narrative, which is widely considered to contain the first – many would say the “original” – sin of humanity. Through its careful word choices, the text seeks to convey a powerful, albeit unexpected, message. While eating from the forbidden fruit – the quintessential crime against God – was surely an egregious transgression, it escapes the label of “sin.” Yet when one human being descends into committing the most heinous possible crime against another – the crime of murder – that act is twice designated as sin. The presence, and absence, of the word “sin” in the early narratives of Genesis could reasonably lead to a conclusion that, colloquially speaking, if the Hebrew Bible contains its own notion of an “original sin,” it is to be found not in the Garden of Eden, but in the story of the first murder.
Moreover, if we are in search of the Bible’s hierarchy of misconduct, it appears that murder predominates over all other offenses. (Semantics, Intertextuality, Philosophy)
The remainder of verse 7 is filled with difficulties, which are addressed at length by the classical commentators; readers are encouraged to peruse their analyses to help decipher the text’s language, structure, and style. Here, we offer a small sampling of ideas culled from their comments, along with several alternative suggested readings.
sin crouches, חַטָּ֣את רֹבֵ֑ץ
The words hatat and rovetz – the subject and verb in this verse – seem to flout the basic requirements of Hebrew grammar by lacking gender agreement. How are we to understand the combination of the feminine noun and the masculine verb?
Some commentators, such as Ibn Ezra, are content to overlook the problem, glossing over it as it if did not exist. Others – see Rashi, for example – seek to address the problem by viewing the word hatat as a substitute for another, masculine, term, which conveys the true intent of the text. Rashi’s suggested replacement for the feminine hatat is the masculine yetzer ha-ra, the evil inclination.
But more compelling are the comments of twentieth-century Italian exegete Umberto Cassuto. Cassuto solves the grammatical problem by reading the word rovetz as a noun rather than a verb. In ancient Akkadian, a rabisu was a type of demon; it is likely that the word rovetz is derived from that word and shares its meaning. With this as background, Cassuto reads the second half of the verse: “if you do not improve, sin [will be] a crouching demon…” In addition to cleaning up the verse’s grammar, this rendering presents sin as an animate creature, which makes God’s warning all the more ominous. (Grammar, Ancient Semitic Languages, Personification)
his desire, you will/may rule over him, תְּשׁ֣וּקָת֔וֹ... תִּמְשָׁל־בּֽו
To be sure, the syntax and grammar of verse 7 are exceptionally difficult. But even more troubling is the philosophical problem that emerges from the verse’s final words. When God says ve-ata timshol bo, is this a promise to Cain that he will rule over sin? Or an order that he must rule over it? In either case, what becomes of his free will?
Most of the classical commentators eschew any reading of ve-ata timshol bo that would nullify human choice. These exegetes define the word timshol not as “you will” or “you must” rule over those negative inner forces that pull human beings into sin, but as “you may” rule over them. A poignant expression of this sentiment is put forth by Ramban, who sees God’s words as tantamount to a manifesto on repentance. In essence, God is saying: despite the constant, virtually irresistible, pull of sin, and regardless of how often and how deeply you have fallen prey to its forces, you, human being, have the power and the choice to reverse course at any point.
This reading is consistent with the overall narrative arc of the story. We have traced the brothers from the seemingly immutable paths set down at their births to their deviations (both positive and negative) from the expectations that were placed upon them. Now, God offers a ringing endorsement of the mobility they have demonstrated. God assures Cain of his abiding capacity – even in this difficult moment, when he is being drawn in by his demons – to reassess and to make new, better, choices. (Philosophy, Ambiguity, Semantics)
Here we can return to the rhetorical ha-lo with which the verse opened. By eschewing declarative statements – in this verse and in the verses that surround it – in favor of rhetorical questions, God leaves a trail of small openings that invite Cain to contemplate, and then act upon, the admonishments that have been put forth.
In both substance and style, God conveys to Cain that the gateways to self-improvement remain open. At all times, amidst all circumstances, humanity remains free to approach the unrestricted portals and to enter.
God’s words are meant to be stirring and empowering. But how does Cain receive them?
sin… its/his desire…over it/him, חַטָּ֣את... תְּשׁ֣וּקָת֔וֹ... בּֽו
For insight into Cain’s understanding of God’s speech, we revisit the final clause in verse 7, this time noting the lack of consistency between the feminine subject hatat and the masculine pronouns in teshukato, his desire, and bo, [rule over] him. What are we to make of this grammatical mismatch, and how might it provide insight into Cain’s mindset?
To begin addressing these questions, we return to the beginning of the verse, and reconsider the enigmatic term se’et. An intriguing definition of this word is offered by Ramban, who sees it as denoting the supremacy of the firstborn son over his younger siblings. As support, Ramban points to the blessings that Jacob bestows upon his sons, the twelve tribes of Israel, before his death. When Jacob blesses Reuben, his firstborn, he attributes to him yeter se’et, meaning “greater authority” over his brothers. Similarly, says Ramban, what is at issue for Cain is his preeminence over his brother.
Ramban’s understanding of the word se’et may serve as a helpful foundation in uncovering a tragic, fateful clash between God’s intended message and Cain’s grasp of the divine objective.
As we have seen, with the words timshol bo, God seeks to galvanize Cain to look deep within himself and to rule over it, i.e., the seductive lure of his darkest urges. Just because Cain was born in an atmosphere of acquisitiveness and possessiveness, and just because he has succumbed to feelings of menacing anger, does not mean those qualities and feelings must define him forever.
Yet, despite God’s soaring speech, Cain immediately strikes out at Abel. From this perplexing juxtaposition, it appears that Cain understands God’s words very differently than they were intended. It is possible, as Ramban has argued, that Cain’s single-minded focus is on his competition with his brother, Abel. As a result, he interprets the misplaced masculine pronouns in teshukato and bo as a call to rule over him. Despite God’s rare precautionary, and inspirational, intervention, and despite God’s instruction to Cain that his only real battles are internal, all Cain can hear are echoes of his own relentless mindset. To his ears, ve-ata timshol bo means nothing more than “you will rule over him” (see my essay on the similarities between Genesis 4:7 and Genesis 3:16). (Ambiguity, Grammar, Character Analysis, Double Entendre, Juxtaposition)
The tragic results of Cain’s misguided focus follow immediately.