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Underdogs and Outsiders
A Bible Study on the Untold Stories of Advent
By Tom Fuerst Abingdon Press
Copyright © 2016 Abingdon Press
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-5018-2428-9
CHAPTER 1
Tamar
Girl Interrupting
Key Scripture: Genesis 38
As I entered third grade, my family moved to a small town in the middle of Missouri. Every once in a while, my mom put my siblings and me on the bus to attend a local Lutheran church. Mom cared very little about us catching religion; she just enjoyed the free childcare for two hours a week. As a single mom, she found that time alone proved to be a precious commodity. Unfortunately for her, this free childcare only lasted a few months, because one day the children's minister sent a letter home to my mom. The letter said that her children had behavioral issues, and if our mom had no intention of attending with us then she could not send us back.
Shaming a single mother into attending church seems like an odd church growth tactic. Besides, don't churches with bus ministries expect the children they pick up to have some behavioral issues? At any rate, I had no problem with not going back. Even as early as third grade, I felt out of place at church. My family had no "good" Christian people. The realities of divorce, poverty, and dysfunction screamed from my soul on Sunday mornings.
In the seventeen years I have walked with Christ, I have learned an important truth that stands in sharp contrast with what I learned from that church in my childhood: Jesus Christ did not come into a perfect family filled with perfect people who did not need saving. He came into a messed up family filled with messed up people who needed a Savior just like me. He came to invite the very people whose behavioral issues would have incurred a dis-invitation letter from a church where everyone behaves properly. That reality stands at the center of our Advent hope that God is and always will be with us. And it's a reality to which Matthew points his readers by including misfits in the genealogy of Jesus.
We readily remember that Jesus ate with people who had behavioral issues, like tax collectors and prostitutes. Yet somehow we often overlook that one of his great grandmothers took such behavioral issues to an all-new level. Tamar, the first woman and Gentile mentioned in Jesus' family tree, somehow made prostitution righteous.
An Unexpected Interlude
Unpacking grandma Tamar's story begins with understanding the larger narrative in which we first encounter her in Genesis 38. Tamar's story stands as an interruption in the story of Joseph and his brothers, found in Genesis 37–50. The writer of Genesis has just told us of Joseph's brothers selling him into Egypt as a slave in Chapter 37, and we sense that we are in for a long story. Then, suddenly, the author of Genesis shifts gears and interrupts the Joseph narrative with one of the strangest stories in all of Scripture. Before we read about Joseph's ups and downs in Egypt (Genesis 39–41), we encounter a story about one of Joseph's brothers. In Genesis 38, the author turns from Joseph to Judah, who has already shown his character flaws. It was Judah who suggested selling Joseph into slavery so that he and his brothers could turn a profit and be rid of their despised younger brother (Genesis 37:26-28). Judah is the kind of guy who would spearhead the plan to sell his brother into slavery, then watch his father grieve for a son who had not really died (Genesis 37:31-35).
When Genesis 38 opens, we read that Judah "moved away from his brothers" (38:1). The story goes on to tell us that Judah married a Canaanite woman (38:2), something that his father and grandfather both avoided (Genesis 24:3, 28:1). Jacob and Isaac both married members of their extended family in Haran, which their fathers desired. Judah, however, followed in the steps of his uncles, Ishmael and Esau, both of whom married Canaanite women and both of whom eventually became separated from God's chosen people. This spells nothing but trouble for Judah. By moving away from his family and pursuing, in this marriage, the ways of his uncles, Judah has separated himself both symbolically and physically from Abraham's lineage, the lineage of God's promise (see Genesis 12:1-3).
Judah's marriage to a Canaanite woman results in three sons: Er, Onan, and Shelah. Judah's oldest son Er marries a woman named Tamar. Though Genesis does not explicitly tell us that she is a Canaanite, it can be inferred because Judah is living among the Canaanites and away from his brothers. Ancient readers of Genesis would have considered Tamar, as a Canaanite, to be morally suspect. But it is Er's wickedness, not Tamar's, that draws attention from God: "But the LORD considered Judah's oldest son Er immoral, and the LORD put him to death" (Genesis 38:7). The nature of Er's evil remains a mystery. All we can know is that he must have enacted some entirely egregious evil. After all, he is the first individual God kills directly in the entire Bible.
The Wronged Woman
The death of Er creates an enormous problem for Tamar. In the patriarchal culture of the ancient Near East, a woman found her identity and security in the men in her life. First her father, then her husband, and finally her sons protected her, provided for her, and gave her a future. To put it in modern terms: They provided the income, the insurance, and the retirement plan. Women had few other options. This, of course, made the status of widows and women who couldn't bear children tenuous. When Er dies, he and Tamar have not produced a male child together. This leaves Tamar without a husband or son. She is in the vulnerable social position of a childless widow. Her husband had been Judah's oldest son, and he would have inherited the lion's share of Judah's estate. Tamar would have been fairly well-off. But after the death of Er, her future prospects are suddenly gone. Without a husband or a son, her status as an insider to Judah's clan comes into question.
Fortunately, in an effort to protect widows from a life of perpetual poverty, there was a custom that provided security for women in a situation like Tamar's. We see this custom reflected here in Genesis 38 and in the Book of Ruth. It eventually became a part of Israelite law. Deuteronomy 25:5-10 explains this law, called the "Levirate Law." According to this law, if a man died without having a son,
the dead man's wife must not go outside the family and marry a stranger. Instead, her brother-in-law should go to her and take her as his wife. He will then consummate the marriage according to the brother-in-law's duty. The brother-in-law will name the oldest male son that she bears after his dead brother so that his brother's legacy will not be forgotten in Israel. (Deuteronomy 25:5-6)
In this way, the deceased brother's lineage continued, his property was passed down, and his widow found security and a future. In other words, the Levirate Law maintained and protected the fabric of society by preserving the family and providing for those who found themselves economically and socially vulnerable. This custom acted as an ancient form of life insurance before such a thing existed. We may not find this an ideal situation, especially in our culture that values freedom of choice, particularly in regard to the person we marry. Nevertheless, in an ancient setting where widows had few options to support themselves, this was an attempt to create a more just society.
So, in accordance with the custom that preluded the Levirate Law, Judah does the right thing by giving his next oldest son to Tamar in marriage. He tells his son, Onan, "Go to your brother's wife, do your duty as her brother-in-law, and provide children for your brother" (Genesis 38:8). Notice, "Judah does not say to Onan, 'marry her,' just, 'go in to her,' or, 'have sex with her.' The father appeals to Onan's sense of sympathy by referring to the late Er as your brother rather than as 'my son.' Judah's concern plainly lies with his dead son, not with his living daughter-in-law." In Judah's language we hear no compassion for Tamar. He regards her as mere property, another thing to deal with — an inconvenience. He may as well tell Onan his deceased brother left him a collection of knickknacks in the attic.
Not surprisingly, then, Onan treats Tamar in exactly the same manner. This obligation to provide children for her and his deceased brother provides a greater headache for him than for his father. By taking on this responsibility, Onan puts his (and his sons') own inheritance at risk. As the oldest son, Er had the right to a double portion of his father's estate upon Judah's death. That larger share would have passed to Onan after Er's death, but the Levirate Law now called that into question. Presumably, the children Onan provided for Er would receive Er's inheritance. To do the right thing, Onan must forfeit his potential personal gain. Tamar represents a financial liability, a threat to his inheritance. So, calculating the cost of impregnating Tamar, Onan has sex with her, but at the last second, "he wasted his semen on the ground, so he wouldn't give his brother children" (Genesis 38:9).
Social complexities abound in this decision. Onan's motivations have nothing to do with responsible family planning. By refusing to impregnate Tamar, puts his own interests above those of Tamar and the rest of his family. Onan makes an active choice to deny Tamar justice and leave her in a position of vulnerability, where her safety, identity, and future remain questionable. He does this all because he wants more for himself and his own children. But the worst part of Onan's actions might even remain unstated by the writer of Genesis. The Levirate Law provided a way out for men who did not want to take responsibility for their deceased brother's wife (Deuteronomy 25:7-10). It involved some community shaming, where the brother-in-law would be publicly identified as someone who refused to build up his brother's family. But denying justice to the vulnerable ought to cause shame. Onan, however, circumvents the repercussions of his refusal by spilling his semen on the ground. In short, Onan appears to live justly while actually denying justice to Tamar, which adds to his decadence and her destitution. His injustice appears as justice, his darkness charades as light, and his malevolence masks itself as benevolence. But God sees through his deception, and "The LORD considered what he did as wrong and put him to death too" (Genesis 38:10).
As if things could not get any worse for Tamar, Judah's lack of empathy hits overdrive with the death of his second son. This woman, in his thinking, has brought a curse upon his household. He does not assume his two sons must have done something wicked; he assumes instead that Tamar is to blame. This exacerbates the injustice of Tamar's situation because Judah, then, refuses to send his third son, Shelah, to sleep with her. "He thought Shelah would die like his brothers had" (Genesis 38:11). Judah thus ensures Tamar's perpetual vulnerability. The social structures meant to ease her situation had instead solidified her sufferings, because first Onan and then Judah put their interests ahead of hers. Rather than protecting the victim, Judah blames the victim. Instead of acknowledging his sons' evil, Judah faults Tamar for their demise. So he sends her back home to live with her father, deflecting his responsibility for her welfare. Judah then tells her he intends to send for her when his youngest son comes of age. Of course, he has no such intention. And Tamar knows this. She knows that by withholding an opportunity for her to give birth, Judah has left her with no status and no future.
Taking Matters Into Her Own Hands
What should Tamar have done? How could a woman like this survive in a world where men held all the cards? Should she just fold, turn in her cards, and give up? If that's what she should have done, Tamar did not get the memo. Instead, she got creative. As Helen Pearson says, "Perhaps tired of having men make decisions for her — tired of being given away and then given back, tired of being told what to do and where to go — Tamar finally refused to be the victim." Tamar took matters into her own hands by arranging to sleep with Judah himself.
Despite her own vulnerability, Tamar created a way to take advantage of Judah at the moment of his greatest vulnerability. Sometime after Judah sent Tamar back to her father's house, Judah's wife died. As a widow, Tamar knew something about the emotional turmoil of losing a spouse. Changing from the clothes and disposition of a widow, Tamar "covered herself with a veil" and "put on makeup" (Genesis 38:14). Other ways of translating that last part include "perfumed herself" or "wrapped herself up" (CEB alternate translations). The meaning is clear: She makes herself attractive. She then went and sat at the entrance of Enaim, where Judah would pass by. Her veiled face led Judah to think she was a prostitute (Genesis 38:15). She intended to catch Judah's attention, to provide him a means to address his physical "needs."
Not recognizing the prostitute at the city gate as his Tamar, Judah asks to sleep with her and offers to pay her a goat for her services — a goat which, incidentally, he does not have with him (Genesis 38:16-17). She plays the role of the congenial hostess and proposes he give her his seal, cord, and staff as a guarantee that he would provide the goat. She would have sex with him now, he would leave these items with her, and then later he would bring her the goat and collect his items (Genesis 38:17-18). But these items, Judah's seal, cord, and staff, are hardly insignificant items. They are markers of Judah's identity. As one scholar writes:
"The seal was often threaded onto a leather cord and worn around the neck of the owner. In Palestine it is more common to find stamp seals engraved on the flat side. Another form of identification mentioned here is the staff, an aid to walking as well as an animal goad and weapon. Since this was a personal item, it may well have been carved and polished and thus known to belong to a particular person."
In other words, Judah trades Tamar the equivalent of his social security number and passport. He sleeps with her and leaves these significant items with her. And Tamar becomes pregnant as a result.
Modern Christians might find Tamar's actions offensive, as they fall outside our bourgeois sexual ethic. But to ancient readers, not only would Judah's offense have seemed comparatively more troublesome, but Tamar's actions would have seemed quite, well, righteous. Tamar's actions expose the double standard in ancient (and modern) societies that allow men to use their power irresponsibly and leave the women to deal with the consequences. Victor Hamilton points out other instances where something similar happens in Scripture. As offensive as it may seem,
Tamar's taking advantage of Judah for a more noble purpose is not without parallel in the OT. One may think of Esther's exploitation of Ahasuerus's sexual desires for the achievement of her praiseworthy aims, that is, the deliverance of her people. Or one may think of Naomi, the childless widow, playing on Boaz's predictable appreciation of Ruth's beauty. Here then is an instance where the end justifies the means.
From a position of comfort and security, in a world where feminism has done so much to promote women's rights, we may be tempted to judge Tamar's actions severely and by our own cultural values. But as far as the biblical narrative goes, Tamar stands within a long line of women who used the tools they had available to create a better world, preparing the way for a scandalous Messiah. Maybe sometimes the ends do justify the means.
When Judah desires to retrieve his deposit — his seal, cord, and staff — he sends his friend Hirah the Adullamite to pay the woman. Strangely, Hirah does not ask the locals for "the prostitute" but "the consecrated worker" (Genesis 38:20-21). Another translation uses the term "temple prostitute" (NRSV), but the Hebrew word can also mean simply "holy woman." It's unclear exactly why Hirah uses this word instead of "prostitute," which Judah had though Tamar to be (Genesis 38:15). However, it seems likely that he wanted to manage Judah's image: It would look bad to go around publicly inquiring about a prostitute. "Consecrated worker" or "holy woman" sounds much more acceptable. Hirah returns to Judah with the goat because the people of the town don't know the "consecrated worker" of whom he asks. Judah's subsequent actions further illustrate his desire to save face. When Hirah is unable to find the woman Judah has slept with, Judah decides to leave his items with her: "Let her keep everything so we aren't laughed at" (Genesis 38:23). In Bill Arnold's words, Judah is "more concerned about saving face than providing the goat such a woman would have needed for her next meal." His character remains consistent: He shows no concern for justice in the case of his daughter-in-law, and his concern for the economic well-being of this prostitute only extends as far as his reputation, however false, will allow.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Underdogs and Outsiders by Tom Fuerst. Copyright © 2016 Abingdon Press. Excerpted by permission of Abingdon Press.
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