The story of Cain and Abel, right at the beginning of Genesis, gives us a clue, but also raises some fascinating questions about sacrifice itself.

"Cain brought an offering of the fruit of the ground to the Lord," the text tells us. But according to Bereshit Rabbah, a classic collection of rabbinic interpretations, he brought it "from the refuse!" Ouch. The Rabbis paint a rather unflattering picture: imagine a greedy sharecropper who keeps the best produce for himself and gives the landowner only the rotten leftovers. That's Cain's offering.

In contrast, "And Abel, he, too, brought from the firstborn of his flock and from their fats, and the Lord turned to Abel and to his offering." (Genesis 4:4). Abel gave the best, the choicest. Is that the key? Is it about the quality of the offering, or the intention behind it?

But the Rabbis don't stop there. They delve into the details of Abel's offering, specifically the "fats" (umeḥelvehen in Hebrew). This sparks a debate about the types of sacrifices offered before the Torah was given at Sinai. Remember, Abel lived long before the elaborate sacrificial system detailed in Leviticus. So what kind of sacrifice was he making?

Rabbi Elazar and Rabbi Yosei bar Ḥanina have different ideas. Rabbi Elazar suggests that the descendants of Noah – a term for all people before the Torah, and non-Jews after – sacrificed even peace offerings (shelamim), a type of sacrifice that fostered a sense of communion and peace. Rabbi Yosei, however, argues they only sacrificed burnt offerings, which were entirely consumed by fire as an offering to God.

Now, why does this matter? Because the type of sacrifice implies a different kind of relationship with the Divine. A burnt offering is about complete dedication, while a peace offering suggests a shared meal, a connection.

Rabbi Elazar challenges Rabbi Yosei, pointing to the verse, "And Abel, he, too, brought from the firstborn of his flock and from their fats" suggesting something whose fats are sacrificed – namely, a peace offering.

Rabbi Yosei counters that "from their fats" simply means the fattest among them, the very best.

The debate continues, with Rabbi Elazar citing other biblical verses. He points to Exodus 24:5, which says, "He sent the young men of the children of Israel and they offered up burnt offerings and they slaughtered peace offerings (shelamim) of bulls to the Lord?" Rabbi Yosei explains that these were "whole" (shelemim) as they did not undergo flaying and cutting. This means only burnt offerings sacrificed after the Torah required that treatment.

Rabbi Elazar then brings up Jethro, Moses' father-in-law, who "took a burnt offering and feast offerings to God" (Exodus 18:12). But here, the Rabbis suggest a possible way to resolve the tension: maybe Jethro came after the giving of the Torah.

Rav Huna tells us that Rabbi Yanai and Rabbi Ḥiyya Rabba actually disagreed about when Jethro arrived! Rabbi Yanai thought it was before the Torah, while Rabbi Ḥiyya Rabba thought it was afterward. Rabbi Ḥanina explains that this disagreement stems from their view on Noahides sacrificing peace offerings.

The text even draws on the Song of Songs (4:16) to support Rabbi Yosei's view: "Awake north" alludes to the burnt offering, which was slaughtered in the north of the Temple. "And come south" refers to the peace offering, which could be slaughtered in the south. The verse "awake" implies something that was dormant and re-awakened, while "come" implies a new concept.

Rabbi Yehoshua of Sikhnin, quoting Rabbi Levi, brings another proof: "This is the law of the burnt offering: that is the burnt offering" (Leviticus 6:2) – implying this was already known to the descendants of Noah. But when it comes to the peace offering, the verse says, "This is the law of the peace offering that one will sacrifice to the Lord" (Leviticus 7:11). Notice it doesn't say "that they sacrificed" – but rather "that one will sacrifice," implying it's a new thing.

So, what does all this mean? It's not just about the mechanics of sacrifice. It's about the evolution of our relationship with the Divine. The Rabbis are using these scriptural details to explore how humanity's understanding of worship and connection to God developed over time. Was there always an impulse to give, to offer something back? Yes, perhaps. But the way we offer, the understanding behind the offering, that's what changes. And ultimately, as Cain and Abel teach us, the intention matters most of all. Are we bringing our best, or just the refuse?