Not Exactly a Sunday School Story

17 December 2025  Genesis 4:2, 8-19

The Third Wednesday in Advent

“You, Judah, shall your brothers praise...” Genesis 49:8

Judah, Jacob’s son, is a very big deal in the Old Testament if for no other reason that he gave his name to the region called Judea, and the people still known as Jews. Like a lot of other big names, the backstory is a little scandalous and complicated.

No one should be particularly surprised that a religion whose primary message is mercy, and whose featured Deity is called Savior, abounds in spokespersons who need mercy and saving.	It turns out that Judah married a Canaanite woman, named Shua, by whom he had a son, Er, and Judah married him to a woman named Tamar.

Maybe because Er was a scoundrel, or maybe because Er turned out to be more Canaanite than Jewish, or maybe both, God was gravely offended, and Er died, making Tamar a widow. According to the custom of those days, Judah married Tamar to another son, Onan, but he offended God by refusing to have children with Tamar, and so Onan died (but not before bequeathing to the English-speaking world the term onanism, but that’s a little too indelicate for a place like this – see Genesis 38:9). Judah was running out of sons, so he sent Tamar back to her father. He figured she was bad luck, and he wanted her out of the family.

Tamar, however, for reasons we are not told, was determined to be a member of Judah’s family, so when she heard that Judah was going on a business trip to Timnah, she got there ahead of him, disguised herself as a cultic prostitute, and seduced him. He didn’t have any money so he gave her his staff and seal as collateral for a young goat he would send later in payment for her services. Then he went home, and never paid her.

What happens in Timnah stays in Timnah, or so Judah thought.

A few months later Judah was told that his daughter-in-law Tamar was pregnant, and Judah was about to have her burned at the stake for being a harlot. “Not so fast, big fella,” Tamar said, and produced Judah’s staff and seal. “These belong to the daddy,” she said, and the facts about Judah’s business trip were exposed for all to see. Tamar’s terms were simple: she would be brought back into the family, with her children (twin boys) by Judah. One of those children was Perez, who was an ancestor of David, who was an ancestor of Jesus (cf. Genesis 38:1-30).

This is the kind of story you tell only after the kids have gone to bed. Not exactly a Sunday School story.

Tamar was not the only person of convenient virtue mentioned as an ancestor of Jesus. There were also Rahab, the prostitute who helped Joshua at the battle of Jericho (cf. Joshua 6:22-25); Ruth, who showed up in Boaz’s bunk when he was drunk and vulnerable (cf. Ruth 3:1-18); and Bathsheba, whose affair with David led to the death of her husband, Uriah (II Samuel 11:1-27). Matthew made very sure to mention them specifically, and no other women in the genealogy of Jesus, except Mary (cf. Matthew 1:1-17), and even Mary’s reputation was in question a little bit – it is why Joseph thought about divorcing her until an angel straightened him out (cf. Matthew 1:19-25).  No one should be particularly surprised that a religion whose primary message is mercy, and whose featured Deity is called Savior, abounds in spokespersons who need mercy and saving.

Of course Judah, son of Jacob, namesake of the Jews, uncle to every Christian, is complicated. Just like the first Pope, who denied Jesus three times, while Jesus was watching; just like the first apostles, who fled the very moment their faith meant danger; just like the author of most of the New Testament, who made his bones by murdering Christians; all of which is to say, since we’re being honest, just like us.

Just like you.

Mercy. It’s not just for nice people.

It’s for people like us. People like you.