The Book of Genesis: In the Beginning

Genesis 38

Genesis 38 — She Is More Righteous Than I

Today’s Passage: Genesis 38

I will tell you honestly at the start that this is a hard chapter, one of the hardest in the book, and I would have you read it the way you would sit and listen while an old man tells a shameful thing that happened in the family long ago, quietly, without flinching and without dwelling. It comes at a strange place. We have just watched Joseph sold into Egypt, and we are aching to follow him down that road, and instead the story stops and turns aside to his brother Judah, and to a widow named Tamar, and to a tangle of sin and grief and deception that we would rather look away from. But it is placed here on purpose. Genesis pauses the great story of Joseph to trace, for a moment, the line of Judah, because it is from this line, out of this very chapter, that a King will one day come. There is death in it under God’s judgment, and sexual sin, and a scandalous trick, and we will name each of those things plainly and then move on. But do not close the book before the end, because when you reach the last verses you will see the astonishing thing God was doing all along, weaving His redemption right through the middle of a scandal.

As you read, hold this: God wove His redemption right through the middle of a scandal.

Context The world of Genesis 38

To understand this chapter you have to know an old custom that governed families in that world, a custom that later became a written law in Israel. When a married man died without leaving a son, his brother was expected to take the widow and father a child with her, and that first son would carry on the name and the inheritance of the dead brother, so that his line would not be blotted out. It was called the duty of a brother-in-law, and it was a matter of honor and of mercy, a way of protecting a widow who otherwise had no standing, no security, and no future. This is the duty that stands behind everything that happens here.

Tamar is the woman caught in the failure of that duty. She is married to Judah’s firstborn, and he dies. She is given to the second son, Onan, whose sin we will come to, and he dies as well. And then she is left in a cruel limbo, promised to the third son but never given to him, sent back to her father’s house to wear a widow’s clothes and wait for a wedding that Judah has quietly decided will never come. She has been wronged, left without recourse, a widow with no husband, no child, and no one to speak for her.

You should also know what a man’s seal, his cord, and his staff were. The seal was a small carved cylinder, worn on a cord around the neck, that a man pressed into clay to sign his name, as personal and unmistakable as a signature and a fingerprint together. The staff in his hand was carved and known as his own. To hand these over was to hand over your very identity, your name and your pledge. Hold that detail, because it will become the hinge of the whole story. And hold, above all, the surprise waiting at the end: that this line of Judah, running down through a son named Perez, runs on to David the king, and further still, all the way to Christ.

Genesis 38:1-5 (BSB)

¹ About that time, Judah left his brothers and settled near a man named Hirah, an Adullamite. ² There Judah saw the daughter of a Canaanite man named Shua, and he took her as a wife and slept with her. ³ So she conceived and gave birth to a son, and Judah named him Er. ⁴ Again she conceived and gave birth to a son, and she named him Onan. ⁵ Then she gave birth to another son and named him Shelah; it was at Chezib that she gave birth to him.

The chapter opens with Judah drifting away from his brothers, going down to settle among the Canaanites, throwing in his lot with a man of Adullam and marrying a Canaanite woman. There is a quiet warning already in those first two verses, in a son of the promise leaving the family and building his home among a people God had not called him to join. Three sons are born to him there, Er and Onan and Shelah, and for a little while it reads like an ordinary account of a man making his way in a new place. But the shadows are gathering, and the trouble is about to come to Judah’s own house, through the very sons he is raising far from his father’s tents.

Genesis 38:6-11 (BSB)

⁶ Now Judah acquired a wife for Er, his firstborn, and her name was Tamar. ⁷ But Er, Judah’s firstborn, was wicked in the sight of the LORD; so the LORD put him to death. ⁸ Then Judah said to Onan, “Sleep with your brother’s wife. Perform your duty as her brother-in-law and raise up offspring for your brother.” ⁹ But Onan knew that the offspring would not belong to him; so whenever he would sleep with his brother’s wife, he would spill his seed on the ground so that he would not produce offspring for his brother. ¹⁰ What he did was wicked in the sight of the LORD, so He put Onan to death as well. ¹¹ Then Judah said to his daughter-in-law Tamar, “Live as a widow in your father’s house until my son Shelah grows up.” For he thought, “He may die too, like his brothers.” So Tamar went to live in her father’s house.

Now the grief begins, and it comes quickly. Judah gives his firstborn a wife, Tamar, and the Bible tells us in a single sober line that Er was wicked in the sight of the LORD, and that the LORD put him to death. Scripture does not tell us the particulars of his wickedness, only that it was evil before God, and we will rest exactly there and not go beyond what the text says. Tamar is left a widow, and the duty falls to the second son, Onan, to father a child who would carry on his dead brother’s name.

Here we must name Onan’s sin plainly, because the Bible does. He was willing to take the widow, but he was not willing to give his dead brother an heir, for he knew the child would not count as his own and would one day divide the inheritance he wanted whole for himself. So he went through the outward form of the duty while deliberately refusing its substance, defrauding his brother’s memory and his brother’s widow both, using Tamar while denying her the one thing that would have given her a future. What he did was wicked in the sight of the LORD, and the LORD put him to death as well. It was a cold and selfish cruelty dressed up as compliance, and God saw straight through it. Then Judah, frightened now, and half-suspecting that Tamar herself is somehow the danger, sends her back to her father’s house to wait for the youngest boy, Shelah, to grow up. But in his heart he has already decided he will never hand Shelah over, and so he leaves a wronged widow to wait out her years for a promise he does not intend to keep.

Genesis 38:12-14 (BSB)

¹² After a long time Judah’s wife, the daughter of Shua, died. When Judah had finished mourning, he and his friend Hirah the Adullamite went up to his sheepshearers at Timnah. ¹³ When Tamar was told, “Your father-in-law is going up to Timnah to shear his sheep,” ¹⁴ she removed her widow’s garments, covered her face with a veil to disguise herself, and sat at the entrance to Enaim, which is on the way to Timnah. For she saw that although Shelah had grown up, she had not been given to him as a wife.

Time passes, and Judah’s own wife dies, and after his mourning he goes up to the shearing of his sheep, which was a season of feasting and freedom, a man’s holiday. And here the chapter turns, and Tamar does a desperate and calculated thing that we are meant to feel the full strangeness of. She has watched Shelah grow into a man, and she has understood at last that Judah is never going to give him to her, that she has been quietly cheated out of the future the custom owed her and left to wither as a widow in her father’s house. So she takes off her widow’s clothes, veils her face so that no one will know her, and sits down by the road where she knows Judah will pass. Do not read this as a woman given over to loose living. Read it as a wronged woman, shut out of every honest door, taking a reckless and dangerous gamble to claim by trickery the justice that was owed her and denied.

Genesis 38:15-19 (BSB)

¹⁵ When Judah saw her, he thought she was a prostitute because she had covered her face. ¹⁶ Not realizing that she was his daughter-in-law, he went over to her and said, “Come now, let me sleep with you.” “What will you give me for sleeping with you?” she inquired. ¹⁷ “I will send you a young goat from my flock,” Judah answered. But she replied, “Only if you leave me something as a pledge until you send it.” ¹⁸ “What pledge should I give you?” he asked. She answered, “Your seal and your cord, and the staff in your hand.” So he gave them to her and slept with her, and she became pregnant by him. ¹⁹ Then Tamar got up and departed. And she removed her veil and put on her widow’s garments again.

Now the sin is Judah’s, and we will state it soberly and without lingering. He sees the veiled woman by the road, takes her for a prostitute, and turns aside to her, not knowing she is his own daughter-in-law. They bargain over a price, a young goat to be sent from his flock, and because he does not have it with him she asks for a pledge to hold until the goat arrives. And here is the wisdom hidden in her gamble. She asks for the three things that are Judah himself, his seal, his cord, and his staff, the very tokens of his name and his identity, and in his heedlessness he hands them over. He gives away, without a thought, the proof of everything he has done. Then she rises, takes off the veil, and puts her widow’s clothes back on, and it is as if the strange woman by the road never existed. But she is carrying his child, and she is holding his name in her hands.

Genesis 38:20-23 (BSB)

²⁰ Now when Judah sent his friend Hirah the Adullamite with the young goat to collect the items he had left with the woman, he could not find her. ²¹ He asked the men of that place, “Where is the shrine prostitute who was beside the road at Enaim?” “No shrine prostitute has been here,” they answered. ²² So Hirah returned to Judah and said, “I could not find her, and furthermore, the men of that place said, ‘No shrine prostitute has been here.’” ²³ “Let her keep the items,” Judah replied. “Otherwise we will become a laughingstock. After all, I did send her this young goat, but you could not find her.”

Judah, wanting to keep his word and quietly retrieve his pledge, sends his friend Hirah back with the promised goat to find the woman and collect the tokens. But of course she is nowhere to be found, and no one in the place has seen any such woman, because there was no such woman, only Tamar, who has gone home and put her widow’s clothes back on. And notice what moves Judah here. His worry is not for his sin but for his reputation. Let her keep the pledge, he says, or we will become a laughingstock, a man mocked for chasing a woman who cannot be found. He would rather quietly lose his seal and his staff than let the matter be talked about. He is trying to bury the whole affair, not knowing that the tokens he is willing to write off are the very things that will one day be held up before his own eyes.

Genesis 38:24-26 (BSB)

²⁴ About three months later, Judah was told, “Your daughter-in-law Tamar has prostituted herself, and now she is pregnant.” “Bring her out!” Judah replied. “Let her be burned to death!” ²⁵ As she was being brought out, Tamar sent a message to her father-in-law: “I am pregnant by the man to whom these items belong.” And she added, “Please examine them. Whose seal and cord and staff are these?” ²⁶ Judah recognized the items and said, “She is more righteous than I, since I did not give her to my son Shelah.” And he did not have relations with her again.

Here the whole chapter comes to its head, and you must watch it closely, because it is one of the most searching moments in all of Genesis. Three months on, word reaches Judah that Tamar is pregnant, and he is told she has played the harlot, and his judgment is swift and severe. Bring her out, he says, and let her be burned to death. He is ready to have his daughter-in-law killed for a sin that he himself committed, and worse, that his own broken promise drove her to. He does not yet see that the finger he is pointing curves all the way back to his own chest.

And then, as she is being led out to die, Tamar plays the one card she has held all along. She does not scream, she does not accuse, she simply sends the tokens to her father-in-law with a quiet word: I am pregnant by the man who owns these. Please look, and tell me, whose seal and cord and staff are these? And Judah looks, and he knows them at once, because they are his own name in his own hand, and everything falls into place, and the man who was about to burn a woman for her sin is stopped cold by the sight of his own. And out of his mouth comes a sentence that changes him: tsadaq, pronounced tsah-DAK. Strong's H6663, to be righteous, be in the right, be justified. Tsadaq means to be in the right, to be righteous, to be justified, to stand acquitted when the case is weighed. It is a courtroom word, the word for the one who is declared to be on the side of what is just. And here Judah takes that weighty word and lays it, of all places, on the widow he had wronged and had just condemned to death: she is more in the right than I. Think of what it cost him to say it. To call Tamar the righteous one in this affair was to call himself the guilty one, publicly, with no way to take it back. But that is exactly what real repentance sounds like. It does not manage the blame or bargain it down; it lays it bare and takes it on itself. This one confession is the hinge of the whole chapter, and it is the beginning of a changed man, the same Judah who will one day step forward and offer his own life in place of his youngest brother. When a proud man finally says of the person he has wronged, “he is more righteous than I,” God is doing something deep in him. That is where mercy gets its foothold. than I, since I did not give her to my son Shelah. He does not make excuses. He does not shift the blame or soften it. He confesses, in front of everyone, that the wrong in this whole affair was his, that this widow he had cheated was in the right and he was not. It is the first honest, humble thing we have seen Judah do, and it is the turning of his life.

Genesis 38:27-30 (BSB)

²⁷ When the time came for Tamar to give birth, there were twins in her womb. ²⁸ And as she was giving birth, one of them put out his hand; so the midwife took a scarlet thread and tied it around his wrist. “This one came out first,” she announced. ²⁹ But when he pulled his hand back and his brother came out, she said, “You have broken out first!” So he was named Perez. ³⁰ Then his brother came out with the scarlet thread around his wrist, and he was named Zerah.

And now, out of all this grief and sin, comes life, and the Bible slows down to tell of the birth the way it once told of Jacob and Esau struggling in Rebekah’s womb. Tamar carries twins, and at the birth one baby puts out his hand first, and the midwife ties a scarlet thread around his little wrist to mark him as the firstborn. But then the hand draws back, and the other child pushes ahead and is born first after all, and the midwife cries out in surprise, parats, pronounced paw-RATS. Strong's H6555, to break out, burst through, breach. Parats means to break out, to burst through, to breach a wall and force a way where there was none. From it comes the name Perez, the breach, the breaking-out, spoken by a midwife who never dreamed what she was naming. For here is the wonder. This child, born out of a scandal, born to a wronged widow and a repentant father, born in a chapter we would rather skip, becomes the very line through which the King will come. Trace the generations forward and Perez is the father of a house that runs down to Boaz, and to Ruth, and to Jesse, and to David the king, and at the end of that long road, to Christ Himself. The One who would break the grip of sin and burst open the grave has, threaded into His own family line, a son named for a breaking-out. God was not held back by the shame of this chapter. He broke right through it. first, and they name him Perez, which means a breaking-out, a breach. Then his brother is born with the scarlet thread still on his wrist, and he is named Zerah. It is a small, vivid scene, two babies and a startled midwife, and it would be easy to pass over. But do not pass over it, because that second-born child who pushed his way to the front, Perez, the son named for a breach, is the one the whole chapter has been quietly reaching toward. From him the line runs on.

Study notes Going deeper

When we read Genesis 38 we feel it does not belong, that it is an ugly interruption in a beautiful story, and we wish the writer had left it out. But God did not leave it out, and centuries later, when the New Testament opens with the family tree of Jesus the Messiah, we find out why. There, among the fathers of the promised King, in the line no one would have chosen, stands this very chapter, named without shame.

"Judah was the father of Perez and Zerah by Tamar, Perez the father of Hezron, and Hezron the father of Ram." Matthew 1:3 (BSB)

Do you see it? Tamar is named in the genealogy of Jesus Christ. The wronged widow, the veiled woman by the road, the mother of Perez, is written into the ancestry of the Savior of the world, and so is Judah, the man who cheated her and then confessed she was the righteous one. God did not tuck this story away in embarrassment. He set it, names and all, in the family record of His Son. And long before that, when the people of Bethlehem blessed the marriage of Boaz and Ruth, they reached back and named this very family as a blessing.

"And may your house become like the house of Perez, whom Tamar bore to Judah, because of the offspring the LORD will give you by this young woman." Ruth 4:12 (BSB)

So hold the whole hard chapter by its end. God took a story of death and sin and deception, a story we would sooner not read aloud, and He wove His redemption right through the middle of it, and out of that breach came the line of David and, at the last, the Christ. There is no chapter so shameful that God cannot bring His mercy through it. That is the God we serve, and He is worthy of all our praise.