Tuesday, July 26, 2022

#265 Tamar

Two Sundays ago (July 17), I preached from the story of Tamar and Judah from Genesis 38. Without a doubt, this is the messiest, strangest, most cringe-inducing passage I've preached so far in my career. And yet, I can't get the passage out of my head. There's something about Tamar that makes her and her story incredibly compelling.

Now before you go any further in this blog, please take some time to read Tamar's story for yourself, whether by clicking on that link or opening up your own Bible.

For the first eleven verses of Genesis 38, things happen to Tamar. Judah chooses her as a wife for his son Er. Wicked Er dies, leaving Tamar with no husband and no son in a world where only men own property. Brother-in-law Onan refuses to follow the custom of the day and provide an heir for Tamar. Instead Onan simply uses her for sex over and over until God puts him to death, too. Then Judah sends Tamar back home. Judah worries that Tamar is to blame for his sons' deaths, and he's trying to protect his youngest. But Tamar has no real hope back at home. Her father can provide for her now, but as a daughter she won't receive any inheritance. In this world she's supposed to have a husband and then at least one son to provide for her. Again and again Tamar has been wronged by Judah's family, her in-laws: used for meaningless. loveless sex and then discarded.

Suddenly, in verse 14, after hearing a report about Judah, Tamar takes action. This story really seems to become her story. With no one to speak up for her and no formal avenue for seeking justice in her society, Tamar launches this desperate, risky plan. She covers her identity, sits by the side of the road like a prostitute, and takes the signs of Judah's identity in exchange for letting him sleep with her. Things seem incredibly messy here, but we're still not done. Then, it turns out, Tamar is pregnant by her father-in-law, Judah. He hears and tries to have her put to death. (Awfully convenient, isn't it, how Judah can have sex outside of marriage, but Tamar can't?) But then she throws all her cards on the table, sending Judah his own ID markers to prove that he's the father of her child—actually, the father of her children, but we'll come back to that.

But through all of this mess, Tamar and—I think it's safe to add—God get Judah to realize how he's wronged Tamar. Judah says, "She is more righteous than I." I wouldn't say this is an unqualified stamp of approval on what Tamar has done, but Judah takes the blame here, saying that he's essentially forced Tamar into doing what she did by not giving her as a wife to his third son, according to the custom of the day.

I like Tamar. She's just so real. I feel for her pain and feelings of desperation, which motivate her to do something that even she might have thought unthinkable when the story began. I get wanting to take matters into my own hands when everything seems hopeless. Still, I really wish Tamar's story went differently. Tamar is a sympathetic character to be sure, but this story would be so much more pleasant if she got Judah's attention in some other way, like revealing her identity as soon as Judah tries to hire her for sex.

But that isn't our story, and it's probably ultimately better for us that way. God doesn't give us a sanitized Bible with all the messy, uncomfortable parts taken out. He certainly doesn't give us this story as an example of how we should act, but He's also not afraid to tell us exactly what happened. We humans can make an awful mess of our lives through our sins and fear and scheming, and I think that makes Tamar's story, messy as it is and foreign as it may seem, relatable.

Now—praise God!—the story doesn't end in messiness and despair. God's grace breaks through. Tamar, at long last, is fully embraced as part of Judah's family and part of God's chosen people. God undoes the terrible injustice that has been done to Tamar through Judah trying to get rid of her. God gives her not just one son but two, and, as uncomfortable as this may seem, those boys are recognized as Judah's sons, two new sons to "replace" the two dead sons from earlier. (Plus, as far as we can tell, God changes Judah's heart at this point: when we next encounter Judah, he's a much more upstanding guy.)

But even that isn't the end. Tamar, through her son Perez, ends up becoming one of the ancestors of Jesus, the promised Messiah, the Savior of the world. When Jesus, God the Son, comes into the world, He chooses to come as part of Tamar and Judah's messy, messed-up family. And there's God's grace breaking through. Like Tamar and Judah, we all need to be cleansed from our sins, healed of our brokenness, rescued from the mess and misery inside of us and around us. Sometimes we're victims, but all of us also are at fault, too, and we can't fix ourselves. So Jesus comes down to us, showing us that we need Him to save us and then saving us. Through Jesus and His redeeming work on His people's behalf, any of us sinful, broken, messy humans can be made right with God and set free from sin and death. Jesus comes into human history and chooses unworthy people like us to be part of His family.

At the end of the day the hero of Tamar's story isn't Tamar. It's Jesus. But that's true in my story, too. That's true in the stories of all of God's people. Unexpectedly, Tamar's story finally gives us hope. As messy as our lives can get, God's grace is always stronger. Tamar points us to Jesus, the Savior we don't deserve, the Savior we so desperately need.

Grace and peace,
BMH

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