Tamar: Desperate Hope

Jesus’s Family Tree

It seems like we wait all year long for Christmas, and when we finally get to December, the waiting just gets that much more tedious. And yet, to me, Advent is the best time of the year. It is a season of anticipation. Anticipation, after all, is what makes finally obtaining what you’ve been waiting for so much sweeter.

That is why, before we celebrate the birth of Jesus, first we remind ourselves of the wait. Because for the Israelites, the wait on the Messiah was long and torturous. The Old Testament shows us clearly the Jewish people’s need for a Messiah to save them. And the Old Testament ends with that problem left hanging: the Israelites have failed to carry out their mission, God has not yet restored them to the way they were before the Exile, the flourishing under David’s reign is a thing of the past, and the prophets have all cast their hope on the coming Messiah. But there is a 400 year gap between where the story of the OT leaves off and where the gospel of Jesus picks up. Yes, the Israelites waited 400 long years for God to send his Messiah. And it is only appropriate that we remember their waiting, because we also wait for Christ. We wait for Jesus’s return, the second coming, when God will finally complete the good work he began so long ago. And so, like all of Israel, we wait on the Lord.

It is only fitting, then, that the New Testament itself opens in a manner that almost invites us to wait on Jesus. After finishing the Old Testament, we reach Matthew’s Gospel. But, instead of immediately answering all of the lingering questions we had about the story so far, Matthew begins by retelling the story of the Old testament all over again in the form of a genealogy. In our haste, and ironically, out of our disdain for waiting, most of us tend to skip right over this genealogy to get to what we’ve all been waiting for: the birth of Christ. This year, however, I’d like us to stop, slow down, and consider why our New Testament might begin by reminding us to look back to the stories and people in Israel’s past.

This genealogy of Jesus is just crying out to be looked at, after all. Perhaps a sharp eye may notice that it is divided up into three groups: The generations from Abraham to David, the generations from David to the exile, and the generations from the exile to the Messiah. An even sharper eye may notice that the genealogy is arranged in reverse order: Matthew begins by saying “A) Jesus the Messiah, B) the son of David, C) the son of Abraham.” The genealogy, however, goes in reverse: C) Abraham, B) David, C) Jesus (this is called a “chiasm”, and is meant to emphasize the importance of Jesus, who begins and ends the pattern).

And, if you know anything at all about Biblical genealogies, you may have noticed something else rather strange: There are five women in this genealogy. In fact, not just any five women, but five women who each have a rather scandalous story surrounding them. this is pretty odd, because genealogies in the Bible aren’t meant to record strict history. They’re more like a hallway full of family photos. When we hang pictures in the hallway, our goal isn’t to record history, it’s to tell a story about our family. We hang up the pictures of the people we’re proud of: Pappy, who fought in the second World War, or Uncle Joe, who made it big in the car industry. We tend to leave out the people we’re not proud of, like that one aunt that went to Jail, or the uncle that was a known alcoholic. No one would hang pictures of those people up, because they’re an embarrassment to the family! They don’t tell the story we want told about our history.

So, perhaps we can understand now why Matthew would have chosen to begin with a genealogy: this is the family history of Jesus. It’s the story that brought us up to this point. But why, do you think, Matthew would want people like Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, or Bathsheba hanging on the wall? If we didn’t know any better, we may almost think that Matthew were trying to insult Jesus! But, if we stop and think for just a moment, I think the answer becomes quite obvious: these are the people and stories that the Messiah has come to save and redeem. These are the people who waited and longed for the Messiah the most, because their stories are the hardest to hear.

So, this advent, we will hear these stories. Some of them are stories that are often skipped over. They’re unsavory, they’re challenging. But they’re stories about people Jesus came for. They’re stories about women who desperately waited on the Lord. And, they’re stories about us too. About the broken world we live in, and the reason for why we too wait.

Judah and Onan: Hidden Sin

The first woman in Jesus’s family tree is a Canaanite girl named Tamar. Her story is one we skipped over in , and one that is usually skipped over by most readers of Genesis.

Judah, after selling his brother Joseph into slavery, moved away to live among the Canaanites. He married a Canaanite woman, and together they had three children: Er, Onan, and Shelah. When Er was old enough, Judah arranged for him to marry another Canaanite woman, Tamar. Things turn south right out of the gate for Tamar. Genesis tells us that Er was a terrible, evil man (who wouldn’t be, with that kind of name?). We don’t know exactly what Er did, but he was apparently evil enough to be the first person in the Bible that God himself puts to death.

Normally, this would be awful news for Tamar: without a husband or a son, women at this time were pretty much doomed to poverty. Luckily for Tamar, there was a law at this time that said if a wife’s husband died before he could have children, then his brother would have to provide children for his widow. This may seem odd and strange (and a little gross) to us, but this was a law designed to protect vulnerable women.

The problem, however, was that this required younger brothers to act against their own self interest! If Tamar had a child with Onan, then legally that child would belong to Er. And, because Er was the oldest son, his child would get the lion’s share of Judah’s inheritance. So, if Onan wanted his son to get the biggest share of the inheritance, he would have to make sure Tamar never had a child.

And, unfortunately for Tamar, this is exactly what he does. The worst part of what Onan does, however, is the way he tries to cover it up. See, this law also had a way out for men who didn’t want to have kids with their brother’s wife. They could instead be publically shamed: the widow would come up and take off the brother’s sandal and spit in his face in front of the whole community. And then everyone would know that this man had failed to do what was right, to provide for the widow. Onan, however, did not want to be shamed in front of everyone. So he pretended to do what was required of him, but secretly found ways to ensure Tamar would not conceive.

Like Er, Onan’s actions were evil in the sight of the Lord, and so he too was put to death. That only left Tamar with one other option: to have children with Judah’s youngest and last son, Shelah. Judah, however, (for obvious reasons) didn’t want this woman going anywhere near his last son! Now, this also could have been resolved legally. Judah could have opted to have kids with Tamar instead of his son Shelah, or either of them could have had Tamar shame them in public. But Judah, like his late son Onan, decided to hide his shame. He would not let Tamar marry his son Shelah, but he lied to Tamar and told her that he would! Judah told Tamar that Shelah was too young to marry her, and that she should just go back to her father’s house and wait a few more years. He, of course, never intended to give his last son to her. In fact, technically, Tamar should have remained with Judah, and he should have cared for her during those years of waiting. But Judah would not even do that much for this poor widow.

Tamar: Desperate Measures

So what was Tamar supposed to do? This poor woman had been through two husbands already, both of which were apparently horrible men. She had no sons, and Judah would never give her another chance to have one. It seemed like Tamar’s only option was to live in poverty the rest of her life, begging for food and living on scraps (if she wasn’t killed on the streets first!). Tamar, however, refused to settle for that kind of life.

So, she devised a plan: she dressed herself up like a prostitute, and waited on Judah to come by the crossroads one day. And, sure enough, Tamar found Judah strutting down the road, carrying his fancy seal around his neck and walking with engraved cane in hand like a high roller. He didn’t even recognize Tamar, due to the way she was dressed, and decided to stop and make use of her services. He even offered to pay her with a goat (a very luxurious animal, like paying with a corvette!). Though, of course, he didn’t have the goat with him at the moment.

So, Tamar convinces Judah to give her his seal and walking stick as collateral, until he can bring the goat later. After they shook on the deal, Tamar finally conceived from Judah, and she took off. Later, when he returned, Judah couldn’t find her anywhere. She had made off with his seal and walking stick, and didn’t even stick around for the goat.

Tamar, of course, was really only in it for the child. And once she had that, she couldn’t care less about Judah’s goat.

Judah: Double Standards

But, soon enough, Judah got word that Tamar was with child. And, with absolutely no self awareness at all, he accused her of adultery and of engaging in prostitution! Judah was so furious that he sentenced her to be burned to death, a much harsher punishment than what was required by law (i.e. a quick and painless death).

After all, we tend to forgive in ourselves the very things we condemn in others. Indeed, this story so far hits almost too close to home for our society today. Judah, strutting down the street with fine chain and walking stick, with lots of goats to spare, gets off the hook for all the evil he’s done in the world, while poor and powerless Tamar gets the death penalty for providing for herself the only way she knew how. The rich often abuse their status and power not only to get themselves off the hook, but to condemn the poor. In fact, even today, we are often blind to the ways that our actions make life harder for those lower down the social ladder than us. Judah condemned Tamar when it was, in fact, his fault she had to resort to such things in the first place. It was Judah’s evil that forced Tamar into such an undesirable situation.

But Tamar had committed the kind of sin the “good people” love to condemn. Her deception and sex brought damage to a “good” family like Judah’s. When word got out that Tamar, who was supposed to be in Judah’s tent anyway, had done such things, Judah’s reputation would be marred.

But Judah’s actions point to another more disturbing truth that is still relevant to today. When asked about his job working in poor neighborhoods, one pastor remarked, “you have a much more difficult job than I do. The poor can’t hide their sins. What they do is open for all the world to see. But the people in the upper and middle class have the same sins, only they know how to hide them.” Judah’s sins were just as bad, or even worse than Tamar’s, but his money and power meant he could cover up what he had done. Tamar could not. In fact, it is often the case that people like Judah love to condemn the sins of the poor precisely so that they can draw attention away from all of their own sins.

Tamar, however, wise as she was, had a plan to change this. The seal and walking stick she’d gotten from Judah as collateral were essentially ancient forms of a driver’s license. Anyone who saw them would immediately know whose they were. And so, when Tamar got word that Judah was seeking to put her to death, she sent a messenger out ahead:

The New Revised Standard Version Judah and Tamar

As she was being brought out, she sent word to her father-in-law, “It was the owner of these who made me pregnant.” And she said, “Take note, please, whose these are, the signet and the cord and the staff.”

And Judah, after seeing this, could not deny it any longer:

The New Revised Standard Version Judah and Tamar

Then Judah acknowledged them and said, “She is more in the right than I, since I did not give her to my son Shelah.”

Hoping for God’s Justice

Tamar’s story, fortunately had a happy ending. She finally had not one, but two sons. And the man who had so severely wronged her finally had to confess his sins to the world. But there was no real guarantee that this would be the case. After all Judah had done to her, Tamar couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’t try to cover up his seal and staff too. Ultimately, this was an act of hope for Tamar.

This woman, desperate as she was, had no choice but to hope that God would provide her with justice. She had to hope that the Lord would see all that had been done, and would make it all right again. Oddly, we see that God seems to do this in many different ways even in Tamar’s own story. Sometimes the way God brings about justice is swift and direct, as he did with Er and Onan. At other times, however, it is more slow, and not quite as visible and obvious. Sometimes God brings about redemption and justice more subtly, through the faithful actions of a poor, desperate woman like Tamar.

But whether directly or indirectly swiftly or in his own time, God does seek justice for people like Tamar. And it was for such people that Jesus Christ came. It was for people who had no reason left to hope, who had seen their futures dashed in front of them not once, but three times, and yet who continued to cling to hope in the Lord.

For those people, Jesus came. But what about Judah? Because not all of us are like Tamar. We’re not all the poor and powerless, some are the rich and powerful! For those of us that are more like Judah, this story has something to say to us as well. Tamar’s story calls us to recognize the depth and gravity of our sins. The sins of Judah have much more far reaching affects than the sins of Tamar. What Judah does affects not only him, but all of those beneath him. Like Judah, we must always be willing to acknowledge our sins, especially the ways in which they harm the poor and powerless, and even to admit that prostitutes and sinners may be “more righteous than I.”

Yes, Jesus came for people like Judah too, but only if such people recognize their own deep need for a savior.

Whether you feel you are more like Tamar or more like Judah, Christ came to give you hope. Because Tamar’s story, if anything, recognizes what a deeply troubled and broken world we live in. It is a story that acknowledges the desperation of our hope. But it also makes a claim: that God always brings about justice. That God will always come through at the very end.

[Now…]

B- Judah and Onan- Hiding our Sins

[Therefore]

C- Tamar- Desperate Measures

[But]

D- Judah- Double Standards

[But]

E- Waiting for God’s Justice