My Brother's Keeper

Many of us are familiar with Cain and Abel, the characters in history's first murder mystery.  (Read all about it in Genesis 4.)  Abel was a shepherd; Cain was a dirt farmer.  When the time came to offer sacrifices, Abel brought livestock; Cain brought produce.  Abel's offering was accepted; Cain's wasn't.  In his anger, Cain lured Abel to the fields and murdered him.  When God confronted Cain, Cain famously replied, "Am I my brother's keeper?" 

On some level Cain's response has always baffled me.  I am a firstborn, and for as long as I can remember, I have felt that I was indeed my brother's (and sister's!) keeper.  As the oldest, it is my job to look out for my siblings, protect them, guide them, encourage them, and from time to time rebuke them.  I am responsible for them. 

That is a concept I am beginning to disavow, thanks to Cloud and Townsend's seminal work Boundaries.  The problem lies with that pesky little preposition "for."  As Cloud and Townsend present it, I can only be responsible for myself.  This means I am responsible for my actions (and their consequences).  I am responsible for my emotions and how I communicate (or don't communicate) them to others.  I am responsible for setting and maintaining limits on myself.  I am also responsible for choosing what/who is allowed within my circle. 


Notice what I am responsible for: myself.  I am my responsibility.  Nobody can do this work for me.  And nobody can really take that responsibility away from me. 

Also notice what I am not responsible for: anyone else.  I am not responsible for anyone else's actions, thoughts, emotions, successes, or failures.  I am not responsible for anyone else's happiness or contentment. 

If we stop here, it seems as if Cain actually had it right.  How can he be his brother's keeper if he is not responsible for Abel? 

Ahhh.  Cain was responsible in regards to Abel, but he was responsible to him . . . not for him.  What does that mean?  To my fledgling understanding of this matter, it means that Cain (and you, and I) are responsible to show our brothers love, compassion, and concern. 

Where we see a legitimate need and have both the ability and the inclination to meet it, we should.  Where we see persistent sin (in a believer), we should gently and lovingly confront it with the goal of fostering spiritual growth.  It means we should consider our brothers' feelings, thoughts, and needs in our interactions with them. 

Wait a minute.  Didn't I just say I wasn't responsible for the feelings of others but now I suddenly am again?  NO.  Example.  Let's say my son falls down and gets a gash on his knee that requires stitches.  My son is screaming in terror.  (Did not happen . . . this is hypothetical!) 

Responsible for means that I take ownership for my son's terror because I am bringing him to get stitches.  I do all I can to make his bad feelings go away, taking credit for it if they do, feeling the blame of it if they don't.  I probably end up feeling guilty as well as angry at my son for making me feel guilty. 

Responsible to means I empathize with my son's terror and offer him what comfort I can while assuming no personal ownership either for his terror or for the alleviating of it.  I give what I can without basing my value or effectiveness as a person or a parent on his reactions. 

Back to Cain.  He was not responsible for Abel: his walk with God, his offerings, his anything.  He was responsible for himself: his walk with God, his offerings, his everything else.  He was responsible to Abel: responsible not to harm him out of anger, not to blame him for his own deficiencies, not to try avoiding the natural consequences of his own sin by eradicating the one who "sinned not." 

This is a challenge for me, and for all of us who have grown up with an over-exaggerated sense of responsibility.  The irony is that by assuming responsibility for everyone else, we often give up responsibility for ourselves.  In my case, it was my emotional well-being that I surrendered.  I somehow expected others to take care of that for me while I was busy taking care of it for others. 

It doesn't work that way.  Instead, my needs weren't being met and those around me were deprived of the opportunity to identify and meet their own needs.  Everyone lost out. 

So, with the help of my supportive family and brilliant counselors, I am working to break that pattern.  I am allowing my children to handle their own emotions while providing them with the love, support, words, and techniques to do so effectively.  (Responsible to!)  I am allowing the people in my life to make their own choices, whether I agree with them or not, and to experience the natural consequences of those choices.  (Responsible to!)

I am also learning to identify my needs and come up with ways of meeting them.  (Responsible for!)  I am accepting that my feelings of guilt are mine.  Nobody can make me feel guilty; they can only try!  (Responsible for!)  I am learning to accept that sometimes making the moves that protect my heart, my mind, my spirit, and my family can be painful, but that pain also is mine . . . and it is not necessarily an indication that those are the wrong moves.  Many times it is the sign that I'm in just the right place doing just the right thing. 

This is a hard process for me.  I have mostly been able to forgive people freely because, in a sense, I usually blamed their failings on myself!  It's easy to forgive if there's really nothing to forgive!  Now that I'm seeing "me" and "not me" more clearly, that forgiveness thing is sometimes a lot harder.  It's more difficult to forgive when one actually has stuff to forgive. 

But the struggle is a good one.  It is an opportunity for growth and maturity . . . and with God's grace, it will bear fruit.