The Other Story
This week’s reading is largely taken up with the early life of Joseph—an inspiring story of hope’s triumph over repeated hardships, as Joseph is despised by his older brothers, sold as a slave down to Egypt, falsely accused of attempted rape and sent to prison, and finally freed thanks to his reputation as a dream interpreter. Whisked out of prison, he is summoned to appear before Pharaoh and put in charge of food distribution throughout the land of Egypt—a fit reward for one who never gave up.
But in the midst of this narrative is another, rather less inspiring tale, that of Judah and Tamar (Genesis chapter 38). This other story in this week’s reading posed a real problem for rabbinic interpreters; what exactly was its intended message?
The story is this: Judah, Jacob’s fourth son, marries a Canaanite woman—apparently not the most approved sort of marriage in those times (see Gen 24:3-4, 26:34, 28:6-8). Together they had three sons: Er, Onan, and Shelah. Eventually, Judah acquired a wife for Er; her name was Tamar. But Er died, apparently at a young age. Normally, Tamar would have been saved from childlessness by being married off to Onan. But Onan died as well, and Judah was reluctant to marry her to Shelah, lest he die as well.
The years went by, and in time Tamar worried that she might never be married. Then she caught a break—of sorts. Judah’s Canaanite wife had in the meantime died; Tamar, supposing that Judah might, under the circumstances, be tempted to avail himself of the most fleeting sort of female companionship, dressed up as a prostitute, veiling her face, and positioned herself at the entrance to the town to which, she knew, Judah was headed that day. Sure enough, when Judah saw her, he desired her and offered her a kid from his flock in payment for her services. (Because of her disguise and the veil, he didn’t recognize Tamar.) As a pledge until the kid could be sent, Judah gave her his own seal and cord and staff. After Judah had left, Tamar went back and changed into her regular clothes.
When Judah tried to locate the prostitute who was holding his personal seal and the other pledged items, she was nowhere to be found. Three months later, however, his daughter-in-law Tamar was reported to be pregnant—clear evidence that she had “played the harlot” with someone, in violation of her status in Judah’s house. “Take her out and let her be burned,” the outraged Judah decreed. But as the sentence was about to be carried out, she sent the pledged items to her father-in-law along with this message: “The man to whom these belong is the one who made me pregnant.” Then she said: “Recognize whose seal and cord and staff these are.” Judah recognized them and said, “She is more in the right than I am.”
More in the right? Nobody in this tale seems particularly in the right. Certainly Tamar’s desperation can be understood, but still: dressing up as a prostitute and sleeping with your father-in-law cannot be considered a particularly righteous act. As for Judah, even if he was afraid for the life of his youngest son, keeping Tamar in his house on the vague promise that some day she would be married to Shelah was not the act of a righteous man. Moreover, calling for her death without any trial or examination of the facts was altogether wrong.
For ancient interpreters of the Torah, however, this last matter was just the point. It was inconceivable that Tamar would be sentenced to death without a normal trial; if Judah had said, “Take her out and let her be burned,” these words must have been pronounced in connection with formal, judicial proceedings.
Interpreters also noticed the delicate way in which Tamar responded to the accusation: “The man to whom these belong is the one who made me pregnant.” Of course she could have said, “Judah, don’t you remember the day you gave these to a prostitute as a pledge? Well the ‘prostitute’ is me, and you’re the father of the baby I’m going to have!” But eager to spare Judah the shame of a direct accusation, she phrased her response in general terms, “The man to whom these belong…” This was certainly laudable behavior.
Scholars noticed as well that she did all this as she was being “taken out” to be burned. On this basis, the Babylonian Talmud suggests that “It is proper for one to cast oneself into a fiery furnace rather than to put someone else to shame in public. Whence do we know this? From the case of Tamar” (b. Ber 43b and parallels). In fact, “taken out” (Hebrew mutze’et) sounds quite like another word, “set on fire” (mutzet), suggesting extraordinary sang-froid on Tamar’s part: even under such circumstances, she did not shame her father-in-law. (This midrash, well known from rabbinic sources, may have made its earliest written appearance—albeit in garbled form—in the “Testament of Judah” [12:5] from the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs.)
As for Judah’s observation, “She is more in the right than I am,” it really means something closer to “She’s right,” or even “She wins,” as in a court procedure (see Job 4:17). But the Hebrew phrase tzadekah mimmenni can also be divided in two: the first word can be understood on its own as “she is right,” and the second as “from me”—in other words, “She’s right, I’m the father—the pregnancy comes from me.” This is how that sentence was translated into Aramaic in the targum of Onkelos and it was similarly interpreted by ancient commentators.
Doing so solved one problem: now the behavior of neither figure was actually being described as “righteous.” But it created another. How could Judah be sure that he was the father? Perhaps Tamar was already pregnant at the time of the incident; indeed, perhaps she had acquired the pledged items from the real prostitute whom Judah had met that day. Rabbinic interpreters therefore went on to assert that a heavenly voice rebuked Judah during the courtroom proceedings: “You testify to the things you know for sure; let the things that are secret be attested by me.” Here, too, was a lesson worth remembering.
Shabbat shalom!