Tamar, The Forgotten One

"How can I help you?" The childless elderly widow paused before answering the pastor's question. "Don't forget me."

A few months ago I heard the same cry in my eighty-four year old mother-in-law's words as we settled her into a rehab center. She was recovering from surgery for a broken leg and was unable to care for herself. I asked her to describe her concerns about her new surroundings and she responded, "I'm afraid you are going to leave me here and forget about me."

Of course, I reassured her that would never happen. Her altered mental state diminished her ability to grasp the reasons for her temporary home. The only reassurance she could cling to was that I had never lied to her before. In her weakened condition, such she had to choose to trust my assurances that we would never neglect or forget her. Perhaps that is one of the greatest fears of every one. We want to know that at least one person in this world remembers us, cares for us, protects us, will not forget us.

Tamar, the first woman mentioned in the genealogy of Jesus, refused to be forgotten by the man responsible for her well-being. The first time I heard this story was several years after the death of our son, Mark. Tamar's behavior raises more moral questions than we can answer in this context (Chuck addresses them in his book, Harlots and Heroines, The Midwives of the Messiah) but God's character displayed in her story created an "aha!" moment in my desperate need to reconcile God's love with His sovereignty.

Soap operas have nothing on scripture and Tamar's story is no exception (Genesis 38). Tamar's husband died. A widow alone faced a life of poverty. A widow without children had no hope of a future. In her culture, brothers were expected to marry their deceased brother's widow. By this marriage, Tamar's offspring would continue the name and inheritance of the deceased. Such a union was later called a Leverite marriage (Deut. 25:5-6). Tamar's second husband refused to impregnate her because he didn't want her children to share in his inheritance. and he died. Actually, God put him to death, also. (You must read Genesis 38 for all the intricate details.) Judah, the father-in-law, son of Jacob, brother of Joseph, saw that the common denominator in the deaths of his sons was Tamar and he sent her back to her parents, telling her that when his youngest son was old enough, she could marry him. At this time Judah had no grandchildren to carry on his line. Judah's line would die if his third son did not have children. And apparently he had no intention of giving his youngest son to Tamar as her husband.

Tamar waited and waited and waited. When her mother-in-law died, Tamar must have concluded she had no hope of Judah keeping his promise. She used prostitution, deception, drunkenness, whatever it took, to force Judah to remember her. And remember her, he did. By means we cannot go into right now, Tamar forced her father-in-law to give her what was hers by God's law. Theologians have forever debated whether Tamar was righteous in her actions. That's not a discussion we can have in this context, but God gave me two brilliant treasures through Tamar's story.

God promised a Messiah would come through Abraham's family. For reasons known only to God, He chose Judah's family to continue the Messiah's bloodline. His choice of Judah, a man who sold his brother Joseph into slavery, is a cause for pause in itself. It's ironic that the very tactics Judah used to betray his father (lying, deception) Tamar used against him.

Through Tamar's manipulation of Judah, she became pregnant with twins. Perez, one of her sons, is listed in the genealogy of Jesus. In the middle of the Bible is this one tiny story that impacts all of our salvation. The bloodline of the Messiah ends with Judah if this baby is not born. This story gave me such deep confidence in God's character because in the middle of impossible circumstances He kept His promise in a way human beings would never have determined. Out of ashes comes indescribable beauty. I applied that character to my own shattered heart. How could God give me joy again in the darkness of grief? I concluded that I would trust that the same God who brought a baby out of a dark, sinful, horrific relationship in order to deliver His promised Messiah could bring joy back into my dark, broken world.

Second, grace flows through this story. God includes Tamar, a woman whose moral judgment appears deeply flawed, in the bloodline of our Messiah. Tamar's story encourages me to trust that my sins and the sins of others will not thwart God's eternal purpose. God redeems the pain and consequences of our sin. This is a mystery but we know that through repentance and genuine sorrow, God can create a testimony of His amazing grace.

Judah repented of his sin and applauded Tamar for her righteousness. Imagine Tamar's joy in the birth of her twins. Trust God to redeem the pain of broken places.

What Christmas gift do you want that cannot be broken? Perhaps, like the widow your own request is, "Do not forget me." Under Tamar's picture in God's Christmas Catalog imagine this description: Our God is the God Who remembers. His character displayed in the story of Tamar reminds us that no matter how dark or alone we may feel, He's there. The bloodline of the Messiah flows through the son of Tamar. God did not forget Tamar. If you need to know that He is the God Who cannot lie, the One Who cannot forget His promises or His children then Tamar's gift is for you, too."

In His grip,

Sharon

PS For more on Tamar's story, read Harlots and Heroines, Midwives of the Messiah. This book is a great way to soak in the Christmas story in preparation for Christmas.