Judah and Tamar, or how to distinguish your daughter-in-law from a prostitute…

In the middle of Joseph’s struggles and triumphs as a slave in Egypt, the Bible takes a scenic bypass to explore the family life of his brother Judah. (You may remember Judah as the brother who suggested the sale of Joseph. Or the progenitor of the line of David.)

Judah marries a foreign woman and they have three sons. The first son marries a foreign woman named Tamar. He manages to piss off God for reasons that remain a mystery, and he gets struck down. Since no one has lower status than a childless widow, Judah gives her to his second son to produce an heir. This was according to the customs of the day.

The second son, Onan (from whom we get the term Onanism), is not receptive to this plan. He is willing to have sex with Tamar, but refuses to father a child. The implication is that he is reluctant to father a child that would lessen his own inheritance. In order to avoid getting her pregnant, he “spills his seed” on the ground. And as we all learned from Monty Python, “If a sperm gets wasted, God gets quite irate.” So Onan is also struck down by the wrath of God.

Judah’s youngest son is too young to father a child, and Judah is a little worried about Tamar’s effect at this point, so he sends her back to her father until the youngest comes of age. And then fails to make good on the deal when the time comes.

At some point, Tamar hears that Judah will be travelling in the area. She does what any good woman would do—namely, disguise herself as a prostitute in order to trick her father-in-law into impregnating her. And the best part is: her plan totally works. Of course, since Judah failed to recognize her, he orders her to be put to death when he hears she is pregnant.

Tamar, sensible as she is, managed to extract a payment from Judah that would confirm his identity. She sends word to him, he realizes that she is in the right and brings her back into his household. From this union, we get the forbearers of the Davidic line.

Babel, where God decides human cooperation is a bad idea...

As we move into the eleventh chapter of Genesis, we find that humanity has not yet divided into different nations/peoples. People had spread throughout the earth, but as of yet, only have one shared language. This is another story that reinforces the idea that at some point we were utterly unified as a species.

And what did we do with this unity? Well, tradition suggests that we used it to try and usurp God's power and authority. But I'm not sure the text entirely supports that analysis. Yes, the people do say they want to make a name for themselves to avoid being wiped from the face of the earth, but considering how recently the earth was destroyed in a flood, perhaps they ere just trying to ensure survival if it happened again.

And when God witnesses this joint endeavor, it really makes him nervous. He worries that if humanity works together that we can accomplish anything: "Nothing they propose to do will now be impossible for them."

And so he confuses the channels of communication, so that we are unable to understand each other. This is done to prevent us from accomplishing whatever we put are mind to. Thus making us all the more reliant on the divine figure, and tempering our destructive aims.

But the people of Babel were not destroying. They were building a community together-- one that had the potential to include the world. One in which people were apparently living in harmony. And God decided to prevent this from happening.

Now I recognize that this is a fable, and that it most likely sought to explain why we have so many different tongues, but as I look over my own life and realize how many arguments have their beginnings in communication failures, I wonder what the world would be like if we did have the ability to know what someone else meant-- even when we do speak the same language.

A Servant Cannot Serve Two Masters

Jesus tells us that "No one can serve two masters; for a servant will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other." He ends with stating that one cannot serve God and wealth, but much has been explored on that topic and it is not what catches my attention today.
Today I am interested in the question of trying to serve two masters. Or two priorities that each want all of my attention. Especially in an age when multitasking is such a marketable skill.
I'm beginning to notice that what happens when I try to serve competing priorities is that I manage to serve neither adequately. I don't necessarily hate one and love the other, but instead, each thinks I am giving the other priority my better effort. No one is happy and I am all the more frustrated that no one appreciates the effort I am making.