Through Advent, our reflections will consider the Biblical women who are named as ancestors of Jesus. The first woman named in Matthew’s genealogy is Tamar (Matt 1:3).
There are two Biblical women called Tamar, many generations apart in the same family line. You can read about the later one - the daughter of King David - here. The first Tamar is the matriarch of the house of Judah (great-grandson of Abraham). These two women have much in common, and the injustices they suffered speak to the moral failings of the family line that produced all the kings of Judah – moral failings that the Scriptures discuss openly. The stories also intersect with the challenges faced by women under patriarchy in many settings.
Tamar’s story can be found in Genesis 38.
Judah gave Tamar as a wife to his first Son, Er. Was she wooed or was she taken? Was she given any say at all in this marriage? We don’t know. We are only told that Er was wicked in the sight of the Lord. Though his name means “observant”, it was God who observed him and saw his wickedness. The account does not include details of his wickedness, but we can reasonably assume that Tamar’s life with this wicked man was difficult. Not for long, though.
The Lord, we are told, put him to death. Was this an act of retribution against Er or an act of mercy toward Tamar? I have many questions that remain unanswered. I can fill in some detail, though, by thinking of women I know who have been married to wicked men. Some, I know, have dreamed of escape through death. Before Australia’s divorce laws changed fifty years ago, death (of themselves or their husband) could be a woman’ only escape from a wicked husband. This is still effectively the case for some faithful Christian women whose churches do not tolerate divorce.
After Er’s death, Tamar was given to Judah’s second son, in keeping with a tradition of men marrying their brother’s childless widow in order to produce heirs for their brother. Onan (meaning “power”) did not want to give power to his brother, so he “spilled his semen on the ground”. Though we all know “the withdrawal method” is not a very effective form of contraception, it worked for Onan. Not for long, though.
Onan’s actions displeased the Lord, and the Lord took his life too.
This story has often been used to argue that God is displeased by all use of contraception, so it is important to consider what, exactly, Onan is accused of doing wrong here.
Onan was refusing to fulfil his fraternal responsibility to produce heirs for his brother.
Onan was refusing to take his part, as a member of Abraham’s family, in helping that family grow numerous and strong for their God-given task of blessing the world. He was deliberately withholding blessing.
Onan was bringing dishonour on his sister-in-law/wife by forcing her to remain childless. In this culture, as in many others, women were allowed one way to gain honour and respect, and therefore security: that was to give birth to a boy. The Bible does not condone this attitude to women (or to boys) but it does call us into empathetic engagement with women like Tamar who have one permitted function in their society, and yet have no control over their performance of that function. One husband can be wicked and incur God’s mortal judgement. Another husband can spill his semen. In both cases, the wife is left without a child and without honour, through no fault of her own.
Onan’s sort of wrongdoing is still wrong today. Failing to fulfil our responsibilities is still wrong. Withholding blessing for selfish reasons is still wrong. Dishonouring vulnerable people is still wrong. Use of contraception, however, is not wrong.
Notice how the innocent Tamar has been accruing dishonour through this story. Not only is she childless after two marriages, through no fault of her own, but both her husbands have died in an apparently short time, also through no fault of her own. Her father-in-law begins to think she is bad luck, or perhaps something worse. Does he suspect her of involvement in the deaths of his sons? In any case, he wants her out of his household. Instead of fulfilling his responsibility to her by keeping her under his care until his youngest son is old enough to marry her, Judah sends Tamar back to her father’s house. He sends her away but does not release her to marry someone else: “Remain a widow in your father’s house until my son, Shelah grows up.” Judah keeps her trapped in the dishonour his sons have brought on her. Shelah means “petition”. Judah is sent away to where she ‘doesn’t have a prayer’.
Tamar has had no control over the events in the story so far. These things are all done to her, without her consent or consultation. She is a passive victim. Not for long, though.
Tamar bides her time in her father’s house. Shelah grows up but Judah does not send for her. What she does next is brilliant and shocking. If you disapprove, see if you can come up with a better plan.
Tamah hears that Judah is in town, so she disguises herself as a prostitute and offers her body to him. As a pledge to guarantee later payment, she asks for things that can be used later to identify him. Months later, Judah hears that she is pregnant and gets all righteously indignant about Tamar being unfaithful to his faithless family. He demands an explanation, and she gives him one! “The owner of these objects is the father of my child.”
Tamar has taken control of her life. She has gained the child she needed to establish her honour and security. She has re-inserted herself into Judah’s family and (unknown to her) into the Davidic line that would lead to Jesus. Her plan was brilliant, but it was also risky. Judah called for her to be burned – showing no compassion for her or her unborn child. He seems to have power to do this even though she is living with her father. There was only a brief space of time between her sentence and execution for her to contact him. If she had not managed to get word to him in that time, she would be dead. She was willing to take that risk.
Judah conceded that it was his own child in Tamar’s womb. He revoked her death sentence and declared her to be more righteous than him. This was faint praise for such a brilliant and daring woman, but it was enough to re-establish her in her community as a woman of honour.
The Bible’s attitude to prostitution is more nuanced than you might think. Tamar, who literally “plays the prostitute” is the hero of this story. Also consider Hosea 4:4 where God says, in effect, “Since it is men who cause women to become prostitutes, I will not judge the women, I will judge the men.”
Judah “did not lie with her again” and, presumably, Tamar never did marry Shelah. It would have been dishonourable for a son to marry the mother of his step-brothers. I suspect that Tamar might have been happy with this outcome. She did not need a husband, she needed a son, and now she had two, having given birth to twins.
This story, like all the stories in Genesis, has a superfluity of meaning. In this reflection, though I have exceeded my usual word limit, I have barely given you a little snack from banquet of wisdom this story offers. I encourage you to hang around with Tamar for a bit longer and see what else she might teach you. I just need to mention one more thing:
When reading any passage in Genesis, it can be helpful to ask these questions:
Who is putting the covenant at risk, and how?
Who rescues the covenant, and how?
In this story we find:
By denying offspring to Tamar, Judah and his sons put the covenant at risk. The Davidic dynasty is threatened. They don’t know this but we, the readers, do. We see the genetic boat heading towards a waterfall. We see the rocks beneath. We call out for the characters to turn around. And the only character to hear us is Tamar.
Often it is God who rescues the covenant, but here it is Tamar. She is the hero of this story. She is the one who finds a way to give life to offspring who will carry forward the plans of God. Tamar is the Eve of her generation – bringing new life and fresh possibilities into a world of wickedness and faithlessness.
Let’s take care that we don’t shame the Tamars of our time and place but, instead, give them the honour they deserve, and release them to bring into the world all the good things they were created to embody.
So Let’s pray:
God who sees, We also see, too often and too many Women blocked from blessing this world With all the new life and fresh possibility They embody. Empower all your daughters With wisdom and courage That tears down barriers And shouts down taboos To bring hope to a world that cries out For release. Amen.
Rev Dr Margaret Wesley serves as parish priest at St Paul’s, Ashgrove, and Area Dean in Brisbane North West. Having begun her ministry in a diocese that does not ordain women, she served the church as a Spiritual director, retreat facilitator, poet and liturgist since long before she was ordained. In serving the Anglican church across three dioceses, she has struggled to be a person of peace in a fractured and fractious church. Like most of us, her heart is broken in many directions over the violence in the world, in society, in Australia’s homes and in Australia’s history, so she is always looking for ways to promote peace and wholeness.