WHY DOEST THE WORLD KEEP GETTING WORSE, EVEN WHEN WE KNOW BETTER?

• Why humanity’s problems didn’t stay contained to one bad choice, but seemed to multiply generation after generation
• Why the Bible keeps returning to the idea of “blood,” and how that theme quietly points forward to Jesus
• How understanding just how broken we are can actually free you up, instead of weighing you down

If you’ve ever wondered why the world seems to get worse even as we get smarter, more connected, and more advanced, you’re asking a question the Bible tackles head-on in its very first chapters. This page walks through Genesis 4–11 — the story of the first murder, a massive flood, and a failed attempt to build a tower to the heavens — and what it says about why we struggle to be the people we want to be.

Cain and Abel both brought offerings to God, but only Abel’s was accepted. The text gives a clue: Cain brought “some of the fruits of the soil” (Genesis 4:3), while Abel brought “fat portions from some of the firstborn of his flock” (Genesis 4:4) — the best of what he had, not just whatever was available. It wasn’t about the type of offering; it was about the heart behind it. Cain gave leftovers, Abel gave his best. When Cain got angry about being passed over, God asked him directly, “If you do what is right, will you not be accepted?” (Genesis 4:7) — a reminder that the issue was never really about the gift itself.

Right after Cain’s offering was rejected, God warned him: “sin is crouching at your door; it desires to have you, but you must rule over it” (Genesis 4:7). It’s a striking image — sin described almost like an animal waiting to pounce, not just a random bad decision. The point is that temptation doesn’t wait for a convenient moment; it’s often right there, ready, the second we feel hurt, jealous, or overlooked. Cain had a real choice in that moment. He chose to invite his brother out to the field and kill him instead. The passage suggests we all face that same crouching-at-the-door moment more often than we’d like to admit.

Genesis 4–11 traces a pattern: Cain murders his brother, his descendant Lamech boasts about killing a man and multiplying revenge (Genesis 4:23–24), and eventually “every inclination of the thoughts of the human heart was only evil all the time” (Genesis 6:5). It’s not a flattering picture, and it’s not meant to be. Even after God floods the earth and starts over with one righteous family, the pattern repeats — Noah’s own household experiences shame and dysfunction, and later generations try to build a tower to “make a name for ourselves” (Genesis 11:4) instead of trusting God. The Bible isn’t hiding from how deep human brokenness runs — it’s making the point impossible to miss.

The Bible presents Noah as a real historical figure who had a real relationship with God, not merely a symbolic character in a children’s story. What set Noah apart wasn’t perfection — it was obedience: “Noah did everything just as God had commanded him” (Genesis 6:22). You don’t have to have every historical or scientific detail resolved before this story can mean something to you. The bigger point being made is that in a world spiraling toward violence and self-destruction, one person’s willingness to trust and obey God mattered — and that pattern shows up again and again throughout the rest of the Bible.

After the flood, God tells Noah, “Whoever sheds human blood, by humans shall their blood be shed, for in the image of God has God made mankind” (Genesis 9:6). This isn’t the first time blood shows up — earlier, Cain’s murder of his brother is described as blood “crying out” from the ground (Genesis 4:10). Throughout the rest of the Bible, blood becomes connected to life itself and, eventually, to forgiveness — animal sacrifices covering sin, a Passover lamb’s blood marking protection, and ultimately Jesus’ own death described as blood shed for humanity. It’s one thread that runs from the earliest pages of the Bible all the way to the story of Jesus.

After the flood, God made several promises to Noah: he would never again destroy the earth with a flood, humanity was told again to “be fruitful and increase in number, fill the earth” (Genesis 9:1) — language that echoes what God told Adam and Eve at creation — and human life was declared valuable because people are made in God’s image (Genesis 9:6). It’s less a one-time event and more a reset: God recommitting to his original purpose for people, even knowing full well “every inclination of the human heart is evil from childhood” (Genesis 8:21). It shows God choosing patience and relationship over giving up on humanity entirely.

After the flood, people gathered to build a city and a tower, explicitly saying, “let us build ourselves a city… so that we may make a name for ourselves. Otherwise, we will be scattered over the face of the whole earth” (Genesis 11:4). That’s the opposite of what God had told them to do — fill the earth, not stay clustered together for their own glory. So God confused their language, and they scattered anyway. It wasn’t really about stopping human achievement; it was about people trying to build their own significance instead of trusting what God had already told them to do.

Not according to this message. The point isn’t to leave you stuck in shame — it’s to be honest about the problem so the solution actually makes sense. Every person in this story, even the “good guys” like Noah, struggled. The message argues that the deeper truth is this: as broken as we are, we are even more deeply loved, and that identity — broken and loved at the same time — isn’t meant to weigh you down. It’s meant to be a starting point you return to daily, not a life sentence of guilt.

Whoever sheds human blood, by humans shall their blood be shed; for in the image of God has God made mankind.

This verse comes right after a massive flood, as God resets his relationship with humanity — and it makes clear that every human life has profound worth because every person carries God’s image. The theme of blood introduced here — life, value, and eventually forgiveness — continues all the way through the Bible to the story of Jesus.

Paul Fowler serves as Executive Pastor at Christ Church. He has a way of taking big, ancient stories and connecting them to everyday life — family, work, travel, even standing in line for a photo at a tourist site — so the Bible feels less like ancient history and more like something written for real life right now. If you’re new to church or new to the Bible, his teaching style is a great, approachable place to start.

If you’ve ever felt the gap between who you want to be and how you actually act — or wondered why life feels harder than it should — you’re asking exactly the kind of questions this message is about. You don’t need to have it figured out first. Come as you are.