It’s a famous story we likely all remember from Sunday School. Yet it is not one that we often think much about. It does not appear in the regular Sunday lectionary, likely because it is such a grim tale.

But the story of Cain and Able came back to my thinking a few weeks ago when I was composing my sermon for the 5^th Sunday of Lent, the raising of Lazarus. I had been thinking about the Lenten journey that we have taken with Jesus, the events and the stories that the lectionary had presented to us and what they all meant. A picture began to form in my mind of how Jesus was a continuation of all the ways God has shown his grace and mercy upon his people, an idea that I have explored at length in my Sunday sermons of late. But to illustrate that point, I dove into the Scriptures, into the book of Genesis to find the first examples where God shows this mercy.

And that was when I stumbled upon this almost-forgotten story about Cain and his brother. The grim tale begins innocently enough. Two brothers, the sons of Adam and Eve, both seek to offer sacrifice to God. One is a herder, a shepherd, the other a farmer and each sacrifices the fruits of their labor. Abel, the shepherd, gives a lamb. Cain gives his crops. God accepts Abel’s sacrifice and rejects Cain’s. Thus in his anger and jealousy, Cain strikes down and murders his brother.

God comes to Cain and interrogates him about Abel. Cain, remains unrepentant, unapologetic, and heartlessly responds with that now-famous saying about being his brother’s keeper. Now God knew all along what Cain has done and he says as much. Cain has been caught.

Now what’s God to do? Cain has not only killed his own brother in a jealous rage, but he’s not even remotely sorry for it. The evidence is damning. God says that Abel’s blood cries out from the ground. Innocent blood shed, crying out for justice. So what is God to do with this unrepentant murder? What sort of justice will he grant?

This is where the story takes its surprising turn. Rather than kill Cain, a punishment few would argue is unjust, God instead merely banishes him. But Cain despairs even of this punishment, saying that all who find him and know of his crime will seek his life. God then marks him, brands him, saying that none will harm him as long as he bears God’s mark.

The mark is mercy.

The mark says to any who encounter Cain that “this one belongs to God and no one else may touch him.” The mark protects Cain from all who would harm him, all who would carry out their own justice.

The mark is mercy.

Fast forward to the events of this day. Jesus Christ, son of God, has been taken into custody. His crime? Does it matter? Those determined to get rid of him are going to make up whatever they wish. Jesus is innocent of true wrongdoing. He is guilty of no true crime.

Then why is he up there? Why is he really up there? This is the Son of God. This is the Christ, the Messiah, the one sent by God to set the people free. The liberating prophet, as I’ve been calling him. He could have stopped this. With the power he has from God, he could have walked away and avoided all this. But he didn’t. He let himself be taken. He let himself be tortured, and mocked, and then hung upon a cross. Why?

Because we’re the one who belongs up there.

We’re the ones who have sinned. We’re the ones who have disobeyed. We’re the ones who have hated, and lusted, and cheated, and in all other ways not loved God or our neighbors. We are guilty, and yet innocence dies in our stead.

He lets his blood be shed to wash us of those sins. He gives his life so that we may have life. He dies on a cross to give us his mark.

Do you remember the baptismal promise, the words I or other pastors speak when an infant or an adult is brought to this font and the water is poured. The words of promise, words backed by the sacrifice of Christ on this day. “You have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and MARKED with the cross of Christ forever.”

You have been marked.

And the mark is mercy.

Like Cain, we deserve death. Our sins have caused the shedding of innocent blood. And yet, also like him, God stays his hand, this time not in spite of that innocent blood, this time because of it. This time, Christ died in our stead. Christ has died for our sakes. Christ has died so that we may be marked as his. The mark of the cross, a mark that says “This one belongs to God. And no one else may have him.”

The mark is mercy. Amen.