Transcript
Jesus’ Family Tree: Tamar
First Baptist Richmond, January 26, 2025
Third Sunday after the Epiphany
Matthew 1:1-17
Abraham was the father of Isaac, and Isaac the father of Jacob, and Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers, and Judah the father of Perez and Zerah by Tamar.
You may have noticed the lights that are hanging around the choir loft, and the star of Bethlehem hanging from the ceiling. We put those up for Epiphany Sunday and decided to leave them up until the Season of Lent, because even though Epiphany isn’t strictly a season in the Christian Year it is a time when the light around Jesus becomes brighter and brighter and we see him more clearly for who he is.
That’s always the question in Epiphany: Who is this? Who is this who comes for baptism in the Jordan? Who is this who turns water into wine? Who is this who stills the storm on the sea of Galilee? Who is this who shines like the sun on the mountaintop? The answer of course, is Jesus, and in the early church that answer was important. Those people believed that Jesus was the most important person who had ever lived, even more important than Caesar, the ruler of the Roman Empire. When they were baptized they would say, “Jesus is Lord,” which was also a way of saying, “Caesar is not.” Even though the whole empire lay at his feet, and even though he held the power of life and death over them, no one was more important to them than Jesus.
I feel the same way. I hope you do, too. And if you do then maybe you can see why I want to get to know Jesus even better, and why I thought it might be a good idea to spend these Sundays between Christmas and Lent looking at his family tree in the first chapter of Matthew, to find out even more about who he was and where he came from. In particular, I want to look at the five women who are part of that family tree. Why did Matthew include them in his genealogy while Luke left them out? What is Matthew trying to tell us about their role in Jesus’ story that we might otherwise miss? I think that’s worth a closer look, and I hope you do, too.
So, let’s begin with Tamar, the first woman mentioned in the genealogy. Matthew says that Abraham was the father of Isaac, and Isaac the father of Jacob, and Jacob the father of Judah, but then adds that Judah was the father of Perez and Zerah by Tamar. Who is she? Well, if you want to find out you have to turn from the first book of the New Testament to the first book of the Old Testament, to Genesis, chapter 38. Before I begin to read let me make you aware of two basic assumptions that would have been held by almost anyone hearing this story in its original context.
- In Old Testament theology, God is responsible for everything that happens, good or bad. The Book of Job is a good example of this: Job’s friends have an Old Testament theology. They believe that Job was wealthy because he was righteous. And they believe that Job is now suffering because he has done something wicked. And in the Old Testament, if you’re living, it’s because God has breathed the breath of life into you, and if you are not living, it’s because God has taken it back.
- The second assumption is about something I will call “the Seed of Abraham.” It was precious, more precious than anything on earth. God had blessed Abraham like no one else and through him his descendants. If you were one of his male descendants you carried his seed within your loins and if you chose to give it to someone it was a great gift. I’ll have more to say about that in a moment, but while I’m on the subject let me add that we are digging around the roots of Jesus’ family tree here, these are primitive people we’re talking about, and it shouldn’t surprise us that some of these stories are fairly earthy.
Genesis 38 begins just after Joseph’s brothers have sold him into slavery. Do you remember that story? They had wanted to kill him—that arrogant dreamer—but Judah said, “No, let’s sell him instead. That way we can get something out of it.” His brothers agreed, and sold him to some Midianite traders. You could say that Judah saved Joseph’s life, but things weren’t the same between him and his brothers after that and Judah decided to move out [reading from Genesis 38:1]:
He went down and settled near a certain Adullamite whose name was Hirah and it was there that he saw the daughter of a Canaanite. Her name was Shua. He married her and went in to her. She conceived and bore a son, and Judah named him Er. Again she conceived and bore a son whom she named Onan. Yet again she bore a son, and she named him Shelah.
Now, Judah took a wife for Er his firstborn; her name was Tamar. But Er, Judah’s firstborn, was wicked in the sight of the Lord, and the Lord put him to death.
Back to that lesson on Old Testament theology. All we really know is that Er died, that God, who had given him breath in the first place, took it back again. And if you are an Old Testament theologian you might assume that God took it back for a reason, that it was some kind of judgment, and that God did it because Er was wicked. But what he did to deserve such punishment we may never know. And you and I—who have a New Testament kind of theology—might simply say that he died. When Jesus’ disciples saw a man born blind and asked him who sinned, this man or his parents, Jesus said neither one. Not everything that happens is God’s judgment, and not everything happens for a reason. But back to the story [reading from verse 8]:
Then Judah said to Onan, “Go in to your brother’s wife and perform the duty of a brother-in-law to her; raise up offspring for your brother.”
This was the custom we have come to know as Levirate Marriage, later articulated in the Law of Moses. Deuteronomy 25:5-6 says: “When brothers reside together and one of them dies and has no son, the wife of the deceased shall not be married outside the family to a stranger. Her husband’s brother shall go in to her, taking her in marriage and performing the duty of a husband’s brother to her, and the firstborn whom she bears shall succeed to the name of the deceased brother, so that his name may not be blotted out of Israel.” That’s what Onan was supposed to do [continuing now with verse 9]:
But since Onan knew that the offspring would not be his, he spilled his seed on the ground whenever he went in to his brother’s wife, so that he would not give offspring to his brother.
He had this precious gift, right? The Seed of Abraham. But rather than give it to his sister-in-law he spilled it on the ground. Why? The author of Genesis says it was so “he would not give offspring to his brother.” And why wouldn’t he want to give offspring to his brother? We can’t be sure, but at least one scholar has suggested that it had something to do with his inheritance. In those days the eldest son would receive twice as much inheritance as his brothers. If Onan gave Er a son, that son would receive Er’s inheritance. But if Onan didn’t give Er a son, then he would receive Er’s inheritance. So, it may have been as simple as that: greed [but reading from verse 10]:
What he did was displeasing in the sight of the Lord, and he put him to death also. Then Judah said to his daughter-in-law Tamar, “Remain a widow in your father’s house until my son Shelah grows up,” for he feared that he too would die, like his brothers. So Tamar went to live in her father’s house.
And I want you to picture her there, waiting, a childless widow, completely dependent on the providence of her father and the promise of her father-in-law that he would someday give her his son. But time passed. And then more time. And Tamar began to believe that Judah had no intention of fulfilling his promise. He was afraid that this woman would be the death of his third son, too [reading from verse 12]:
In course of time the wife of Judah, Shua’s daughter, died; when Judah’s time of mourning was over, he went up to Timnah to his sheepshearers, he and his friend Hirah the Adullamite. When Tamar was told, “Your father-in-law is going up to Timnah to shear his sheep,” she put off her widow’s garments, put on a veil, wrapped herself up, and sat down at the entrance to Enaim, which is on the road to Timnah. She saw that Shelah was grown up, yet she had not been given to him in marriage.
Which is to say that Judah had broken his promise to her and she knew it. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Using all the agency available to her Tamar did something about it [back to verse 15]:
When Judah saw her, he thought her to be a prostitute, for she had covered her face. He went over to her at the roadside and said, “Come, let me come in to you,” for he did not know that she was his daughter-in-law. She said, “What will you give me, that you may come in to me?” He answered, “I will send you a kid from the flock.” And she said, “Only if you give me a pledge until you send it.” He said, “What pledge shall I give you?” She replied, “Your signet and your cord and the staff that is in your hand.” So he gave them to her and went in to her, and she conceived by him. Then she got up and went away, and taking off her veil she put on the garments of her widowhood.
Tamar got something far more valuable than a kid from Judah’s flock; she got some of the Seed of Abraham, something that was rightfully hers but something that had been withheld from her. She must have felt almost vindicated as she sat in her father’s house, feeling the life stirring within her [picking up at verse 20]:
When Judah sent the kid by his friend the Adullamite to recover the pledge from the woman, he could not find her. He asked the townspeople, “Where is the prostitute who was at Enaim by the wayside?” But they said, “No prostitute has been here.” So he returned to Judah and said, “I have not found her; moreover, the townspeople said, ‘No prostitute has been here.’ ” Judah replied, “Let her keep the things as her own, otherwise we will be laughed at; you see, I sent this kid, and you could not find her.”
About three months later Judah was told, “Your daughter-in-law Tamar has prostituted herself; moreover, she is pregnant as a result of prostitution.” And Judah said, “Bring her out, and let her be burned.”
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.” Then Judah acknowledged them and said, “She is more righteous than I, since I did not give her to my son Shelah.” And he did not lie with her again.
When the time of her delivery came, there were twins in her womb. While she was in labor, one put out a hand, and the midwife took and bound on his hand a crimson thread, saying, “This one came out first.” But just then he drew back his hand and out came his brother, and she said, “What a breach you have made for yourself!” Therefore he was named Perez (which means, “breach”). Afterward his brother came out with the crimson thread on his hand, and he was named Zerah.
And that’s the story of Tamar.
Last week I was telling you about the family tree that hangs on my kitchen wall at home. I told you about James and Mary Atwell Somerville, down there on the trunk of the tree, who had fourteen children. One of those was a daughter named Jane Elizabeth who eventually married a man named William French. But if you look closely at that union you see a little note in parentheses: “No issue.” The genealogists in the room will understand this to mean that William and Jane had no children, and I’m guessing that it wasn’t because they decided not to have them, but rather because they couldn’t have them, and that if you knew their whole story you would know it was a story full of heartache.
But as a result that branch on the Somerville family tree, the William and Jane French branch, died out. But Jane’s older brother Robert married a girl named Laura Gray, and they had ten children. One of those was Atwell, who was the father of Walter, who was the father of James—my father. Which is to say that if it hadn’t been for Robert Briggs Somerville and his fortunate marriage to Laura Gray, I wouldn’t be here today. In the same way, if it hadn’t been for Tamar, Jesus might never have been recognized as the Messiah. Through her cunning and daring she became the mother of Perez, who was the great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather of David, the greatest king who ever lived in Israel.
It was one of his descendants who sat by a well in Samaria one day, talking with a woman who had had five husbands, and who was not married to the man she was living with. But that wasn’t a problem for Jesus. One of his own ancestors had been married to two husbands, and had a child by her father-in-law. He knew that women whose lives are touched by scandal are not necessarily scandalous. He talked with this woman. He offered her a drink of living water. She left her water jar at the well and went back to her village saying, “Come and see a man who told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Messiah?” The author of John’s Gospel says that many of them believed in Jesus because of the woman’s testimony. Some people claim that she was the first evangelist, and it may have been because Jesus remembered Tamar: because he understood that there is no one beyond the reach of God’s grace; no story so scandalous it can’t be redeemed; and no person so lost that he or she cannot become the very means of salvation.
—Jim Somerville © 2025
