Showing posts with label Genesis 38. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Genesis 38. Show all posts

Sunday, December 1, 2019

Tamar (Genesis 38)

  1. Syrophoenician Lives Matter
In the gospel of Mark, there is a fascinating story about Jesus's encounter with an immigrant woman whose daughter was possessed by a demon. 
The woman was a Syrophoenecian, and she begged Jesus to get rid of the demon that was tormenting her daughter. 
Jesus said no. He refused to help this immigrant woman, because his mission was to his own people. In fact, he said to her: “The children have to be fed first. It isn’t right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.”
That’s not what we’re used to hearing from Jesus, is it? I don’t like this response, and you probably don’t either. 
And I don't have an explanation for it, except to say that maybe this is just a rhetorical set up, that perhaps Jesus is engaging in a sort of mini-play, acting out a scene with this woman because it builds the drama for what comes next. 
Because what happens next is possible only because of Jesus’s answer. What happens next is that the  Syrophoenecian woman argues back! She doesn't take Jesus’s “no” for an answer! She insists that Jesus really look at her and see her as a person worthy of his attention.
As a Syrophoenician, she was a minority figure, an immigrant, a person used to being neglected.
And as a woman in that time and place, she wasn't even supposed to be taking to him. If a woman wanted to say something, she said it through her husband. She told her husband, and then - if her husband felt like it - he passed on the message. That’s just one way that women were “kept in their place.”
But this woman had no use for such mores. She wasn’t going to be “kept in her place.” She talked to Jesus, and when he gave an answer she didn't like, she argued back, and insisted he come up with a better answer.
Was Jesus shocked that she persisted the way she did? Was he surprised that she refused to be kept in her place?
I don’t know, but I do know that Jesus immediately recognized that she was right. And Jesus gave in to her. He praised her for her answer, and then granted her request. 
And here’s what I think was going through Jesus’ head in that moment. I think the Syrophoenecian woman’s persistence and her audacity triggered in Jesus a memory of the persistent, audacious women in his family tree, the women who did not live meek, docile lives as women were supposed to do… the women who drew attention to their oppressed state, and who demanded something better for themselves and their families… the women who spoke when they were expected to remain silent, the women who dared to challenge the way things were rather than quietly accept their oppression & marginalized state…

  1. The Women in Jesus’ Family Tree
During these four weeks of Advent, my sermons are going to focus on these women that appear in the list of Jesus's ancestors. This list appears at the very start of Matthew's gospel. The first words of Matthew’s gospel are: “An account of the genealogy of Jesus the Messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham… Abraham was the father of Isaac, and Isaac the father of Jacob, and Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers…”
The long list includes three sets of fourteen generations. These are the “begats” of the King James translation. 42 generations in all. 
And usually, we just skip right over them.
But not this year. 
Genealogy lists like this normally only listed the men, so it is surprising that this particular list includes four women. The list is carefully constructed, carefully worded, so their inclusion is not a mistake. 
What was it about them that made the gospel writer include them even though it went against custom? What was so remarkable about them? What made them stand out?...

The first woman to appear on the list is Tamar. Today I’ll talk about Tamar, and in the weeks to come, I’ll talk about the other women on Jesus’s family tree: Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba.

  1. A Cursed Woman
I don’t watch a whole lot of TV, but one show I’ve really enjoyed is The Crown. Last week, I convinced Ethan and Zander to watch a couple of episodes, and afterward, Ethan asked: If the Duke of Edinburgh is married to the Queen of England, why isn’t he the king?
I don’t really know. I don’t think anyone in America knows. It’s a big mystery to us. All I know is that there are very specific and very rigid rules about line of succession.
Well, in Biblical times, there were similar rules governing things like inheritance that every family followed. The oldest son, for example, was the one who carried on the family name, and who received a double share of the inheritance.
But what if the oldest son in a family got married, but then died before having any children of his own? 
In that case, his next-in-line brother was legally required to marry his widow, so that they could have children in that older brother’s name, thus preserving the passing down of the inheritance through the older brother.
This system also provided protection for the widow. If she lost her husband and had no children, she would be alone and vulnerable in a society that had no built-in provisions for the protection of childless widows. But if her deceased husband’s brother married her, she would remain attached to a man and to a family that would provide for her.
That is exactly what happened to Tamar. Her husband, Er (who was the oldest son of Judah) died before they had any children. This meant that there was no son to carry on the family name. 
So Er’s brother Onan was obligated to marry Tamar, so that the family line of first-born sons may continue. 
But then, lo and behold: Onan also died, before any children were born. So now the obligation fell to brother number three.
Judah’s third son, Shelah, was still a boy. So Judah told Tamar that once Shelah was old enough, Shelah would take her in marriage.
Which meant Tamar had to wait.
But that time of waiting gave Judah some time to think. And what he thought was that every time one of his sons married Tamar, they died. This gave him second thoughts, and he began to think of Tamar as a cursed woman.
So once Shelah did grow up, Judah never allowed the marriage to happen, even though - by law - it’s what should have happened. Preventing Shelah from marrying Tamar would be like preventing Prince Charles from becoming the next king of England. Sort of. 
And as time went by, Tamar - with good reason - began to worry about her future. She was still young, but with no husband to attach herself to, her opportunities were limited. And she pictured her future as a childless widow, destitute, on the streets, begging for bread…

  1. Prayer Followed By Action
I don’t know if Tamar prayed to God in this time. However, I chose Psalm 25 as our scripture reading this morning, because I imagine it’s possible that Tamar prayed something like it. “To you, O LORD, I lift up my soul. O my God, in you I trust; do not let me be put to shame.” It’s a prayer of one who seeks salvation from what promises to be a bleak future.
And I imagine that, if she prayed such a prayer, Tamar then resolved that the path that had been prepared for her was not the path her life would take, that - with God’s help - she would chart her own path.
Which meant that she needed to take matters into her own hands… that she needed to act boldly and audaciously… that she needed to follow prayer with action.

In those days widows wore particular clothing that identified them as widows. Tamar took off her widow’s clothing… covered herself with a veil, put on makeup…
What was she up to?
She went out and sat by the road.  When Judah, whose own wife had just recently died, came along and saw her, he did not recognize her. In fact, he thought she was a prostitute. Because she had covered her face, he didn’t know it was Tamar.  
He went up to her. He said: “What’s your price?”
She said, “Whatchoo got?”
He said, “How about a young goat?”
She said, “Sounds good, but I need something else, something right now, as a security deposit, so I know you’ll give me the goat as promised.”
He said, “Like what?”
She said, “Your seal, your cord, and your staff.” 
He said, “OK.”
They took care of business, and then they went their respective ways, and Tamar changed back into her widow’s clothes.
Then Judah sent his neighbor to take the goat to the prostitute and bring back his seal, his cord, and his staff, but the neighbor - obviously - could not find her.
Three months later, it was revealed that Tamar was pregnant. She was accused of being a prostitute, and Judah ordered her to be burned.
That’s life in a patriarchal society. It’s OK for him, but not for her.
Tamar is brought out - but she’s holding the seal, the cord, and the staff. And she announces to Judah and those who were present: “Look. I’m pregnant by the man who owns these. See if you recognize whose seal, cord, and staff these are…”
Judah saw his own seal, cord, and staff, and realized he had been played. He knew that the child growing inside Tamar was his own, and that this child would be the one who would now carry on the family name. He realized that Tamar had acted to secure her own future and to carry on the name of her deceased husband, all because Judah had failed in his responsibility to see to these things. Now, Judah had no choice but to take Tamar as his own wife.




  1. Bold Action Leads to Hope
And that’s how Tamar secured a permanent place in Judah’s family and kept herself from living the desperate life of a widow in a patriarchal society.
Tamar saw that the life ahead of her was a life of oppression. But rather than quietly accept her fate, she acted boldly, audaciously, and secured for herself a future of hope.
And for that, she is one of the four women Matthew includes on Jesus’s family tree.
And because of this, as we read Matthew’s gospel, we know - even before Matthew starts talking about the birth of Jesus - that Jesus will be one who boldly and audaciously confronts the powers of oppression, who interrupts society’s ways to turn things upside down, and lift up those who are weak, and bring down those who are mighty. 
Jesus is coming to interrupt the way things are “supposed to be done.” Jesus is coming to introduce a new way of doing things - God’s way. 
Jesus is coming to set right all the wrongs of the world. And all those who have been unfairly cast out of society will be brought to the center. All those who have been silenced will find their voice.
It’s hard to believe that there are still some Christian leaders who believe that women should be silent, that they should not preach or teach, that they should just go home where they belong. 
It’s hard to believe they refuse to let a woman challenge their assumptions the way Jesus allowed the Syrophoenician woman to challenge his assumptions.
It’s hard to believe they refuse to let a woman determine her own path in life the way Tamar determined her own path, something so significant that she’s included on Jesus’s family tree.
But I suppose they just aren’t ready for the world-shattering ideas that Jesus proclaims to the world.
In this season of Hallmark movies and Christmas carols and comforting family traditions, it’s important to remember that Advent is not for the faint of heart. There is nothing meek and mild about these stories. 
They are stories of resistance. They are stories of bold, courageous action. They are stories of persistence and audacity.
Tamar is just one example of that. But our Advent journey is just beginning. Keep your seat belts buckled, and hang on to your hats and glasses, because we’re just getting started…