Props: Ring (engagement ring preferably) or letter from a prior wartime soldier (if you can find such)
Have you heard the riddle?
Question: In a bacon-and-egg breakfast, what's the difference between the Chicken and the Pig?
Answer: The Chicken is involved, but the Pig is committed!
Commitment is sometimes a “dirty word” in our culture today. People are wary of making commitments that may not last. Our marriage rates are going down. More people are renting homes than buying. Many are buying gold, fearing the instability of the stock market and the global economic system we are in. People are unwilling to commit to something without some assurance that what they are committing to will last. They want to be secure in not having to fear or face loss, rejection, devastation, ruin.
Who doesn’t need the security of knowing we will be ok in the face of any disaster? Who doesn’t feel the need to protect ourselves the best we can from rejection and loss? Security has even become big business. You could not have lost money in the past 30 years if you invested in either security or storage. In fact, 19.7 per cent of all US workers are now involved in security of some form (soldiers, guards, airport baggage screeners, etc.), according to Robert J. Shiller, Finance and the Good Society (Princeton UP, 2012).
In our pursuit of security as expressed in “Homeland Security” and the “national security state” there are some who have argued that it was actually Hitler who won the Second World War. Jacques Ellul, himself a participant in the French resistance, wrote to that effect in 1948 with the publication of “The Presence of the Kingdom.” With every passing decade, it seems, the spirit of Hitler rises up higher and higher. Hitler himself didn’t win, but his enemies imitated him and mastered his means to a “secure state.”
In a few weeks Jurassic Park 4: Jurassic World will be released in the theatres. You can bet it will be a blockbuster. Some of you “elderly” probably remember the first one. It scared the “flying turtles” out of most all of us! In the movie, there’s a large museum-like solid stone structure. It sits in the middle of the dinosaur park, but everyone in it is safe behind steel-trap labs and safety-glass look out centers. The dinosaurs are “safely secured.”
Except, of course, they aren’t at all “safely secured.” Somehow, someone’s going to make a mistake, or something is going to go wrong, and those dinosaurs are going to penetrate and infiltrate those locked-down, tightly secured, rock-solid structures, terrorizing us with those sharp claws and pearly teeth! It’s our greatest fear. We’ve built our lives around rock-solid securities and safety-first structures. Why if they can’t sustain our peace and safety. What if the dinosaurs and dragons get loose? What if our soul and security is not in our weapons, not even in our will?
We need security. We crave it. We thrive on it. We can’t grow as a child without it. One of the biggest inhibitors to change is our desperate need for lock-downs in life, security systems that hold fast.
But as a disciple of Jesus, commitment and security go hand in hand.
[at this point….you can take out either a ring….or a letter. You can also invite others in your congregation to take out their rings…to look at them….hold them up.]
I have here in my hand a ring. It’s a ring that was given to me by . . . [now tell the story of the ring or piece of jewelry or letter. Here’s an example . . . ]
I have here a ring given to me by my aunt. It was her first engagement ring, given to her by her “sweetie” during World War II, when my uncle was sent to the front lines in Germany. When he came home, he got her a bigger and better one, and so she saved it and gave it to me for safekeeping. At the time of the war, my uncle couldn’t afford much. There wasn’t much money to go around. But it meant everything to him to purchase this small diamond ring for his “girl” back home, as a sign that she would hopefully still belong to him, that through all of the years of his absence, she would be there waiting, when he would return home again. It was a sign for her as well, that she belonged to someone special who cherished her overseas, even when she could get no word to him or from him for months at a time.
He had a picture of her. She had a ring on her finger from him.
On the front lines, he kept that picture of her with him in the pocket of his uniform, taking it out from time to time to remind him that something beautiful was waiting for him beyond the blood and the smoke, the gunfire and the trenches.
She cherished that ring, knowing that it held a hopeful future for the two of them, once the war would be over. It gave her hope that he would return home again safe and alive. It gave her a sense of security to look at it, to touch it, especially when she felt most worried.
Many men who gave rings and other amulets to their lovers during that time of the bloodiest war in history never did come home. Those rings became not tokens of a future, but icons of a cherished memory. Not one of those women would have given up her ring. Not one of those men would have given up his photograph.
There was a security in the most turbulent and troublesome of times that said, somewhere in the midst of this, love survives. It was a small sign of security, to be sure. But even an unsteady security was better than no security that normalcy and peace lay just around the corner, almost in reach.
That engagement ring, that little diamond so small you could hardly see it, made its bearer feel just a little more secure.
Even today, many women long for the relationship to “progress” to that point when they will receive “the ring” of engagement. And what does that mean?
Engagement.
Engagement or betrothal as they used to call it in Jesus’ time, is a contract. It’s a contract that is proposed but not yet sealed. The ring is a symbol or token –collateral if you will—that says, after a period of time, the contract will be completed.
There aren’t just engagement rings these days. There are “promise rings” even! You promise to get engaged….before you get engaged ….to get married!
And do you know how much money is spent in this country alone on engagement rings? On wedding planning? On weddings? You don’t want to know. The average wedding in the US is now upwards of $30,000. The engagement industry alone…is huge!
There is a sense of “security” once the “ring” has been “secured.” Both partners can now breathe a sigh of relief, stop worrying about being out there in the “field,” and both can relax and “just enjoy” that time from betrothal to wedding.
The Hebrew people had a word for this “secured collateral” of covenant. They called it an “arrabon.”
During the times that the Jewish people were in Babylon, outside of their homeland among foreigners who spoke a different language and followed a different god, the Jewish people clung to their customs, their language, their Yahweh. They needed a sense of security, a hope, knowing that all of this would pass. And the prophets gave that to them. They prophesied, they wrote, they dreamt, they sang. They reveled in revealing the “signs” from God, letting them know, even in the midst of trouble, soon hope would come.
It was like that for foreigners too. In our scripture today, we have a story of an arrabon.
[Here you can choose to bring in the Ruth story, or the Rahab story, or the Tamar story…or the Bathsheba story….either all or one of them. For our sample sermon here, I have chosen Ruth.]
It’s a story of a woman named Ruth who in the harvest time of “First Fruits” (another meaning of the arrhabon….the first fruits of the culmination and fullness of the harvest to come) found her security in the Jewish faith “under the wings of God’s presence.” She and her mother-in-law Naomi would be protected by “levirate” marriage.
Levirate marriage was a way of securing protection for widows and mothers. Without a male, ancient women were essentially homeless. Everything was stacked against them. They had no identity, no lineage, no name, no people, no home. In Ruth’s case, her faithfulness to her mother-in-law and to God, the God of the Hebrews, the God of her dead husband, and now her God too, led her into a new place, where she would be offered the “first fruits”–a new betrothal—to be consummated in a new life with Boaz and with the Jewish people.
[Tell the story of Ruth here in more detail if desired or needed.]
When Boaz and Ruth unite for the first time on the “threshing floor,” Boaz leaves Ruth with an “arrabon,” a promise of the consummation of the promise of marriage and a new identity and security with him and his people. The arrabon is 6 portions of barley.
Barley is the symbol for the Jewish people of First Fruits. It is the symbol for us of the resurrection. Jesus’ resurrection is our First Fruits. The revealing of the Holy Spirit to us and within us upon Pentecost is an “arrabon” of God’s promise of fulfillment, in which we all become part of God’s eternal kingdom.
Like the rainbow in the clouds after the flood, the Holy Spirit is a sign of security for us that assures us that Jesus is with us, and will remember us in the times to come and in the tough times now. It assures us a place reserved at his heavenly table.
And with that assurance, we can relax, play, have joy and hope in the coming of the kingdom. We can even not fear being insecure. With that “arrabon” of the Spirit, we are not afraid of what lies ahead.
Jesus sends his Holy Spirit to the Church, to every one of us, that we might feel God’s faithfulness and the promise of the future. This “arrabon” is our assurance of God’s gift to us, releasing us to revel in the joy and laughter of worship and praise.
For with the security of the “arrabon” comes the peace and freedom to celebrate in the midst of all life’s insecurities.
We all have insecurities. That’s right. You heard me. Every one of you here this morning is insecure about something. Some of us more insecure than others. But we’re all insecure. Perhaps you’ve grown up in a home that lacked unconditional love. Perhaps you’ve recently gone through a divorce that shook up your sense of self, your ability to feel loved and wanted. Perhaps you’ve lived life second-guessing yourself, trying to live up to an unattainable standard set by other people. Perhaps you were bullied or teased for some incapacity throughout your life.
Jesus’ “arrabon” to us, his first-fruits gift to us, is the amazing garment of “The Comforter.” That “invisible cloak” that surrounds you with love and grace, and the assurance of God’s favor.
The Holy Spirit is YOUR “ring” of engagement with God, to God, in which you are encircled in unconditional love.
We all have a Holy Spirit guarantee!
What got Jesus in so much trouble with the religious establishment was his embrace of those who were not Jewish. And those who were not Jewish were astounded at the loving spirit of Jesus’ followers, the spirit of acceptance that allowed them to be part of God’s great family, and even God’s great cloud of witnesses. Like Ruth.
May we still be astonished today by the security and promise of God’s “arrabon,” the gift of the Holy Spirit that surrounds us and promises us a place at Jesus’ table.
As you approach the communion table today, may you feel the “shekinah” of glory come upon you, the Holy Spirit of Pentecost, to garment, encircle, and guard you through whatever insecurities life brings. Most of all, in a culture which idolizes security and will give up all sorts of freedoms for greater security, may you be among the chosen few who are not afraid to be in the world, knowing that you are the “church,” Holy Spirit breathed, and God-promised, the betrothed of Jesus. For it is only those encircled in the grace in Jesus, who will risk their greatest insecurities. Only those who are clothed in the power of the Holy Spirit can secure for this world a future worth living.
Based on the Story Lectionary
Major Text
Matthew 1:1-17 and 3 (a genealogy and signs of the Messiah)
Minor Text
Genesis 38: The Story of Tamar
Joshua 1-6: The Story of Rahab
The Story of Ruth
Numbers 9: All shall keep the Passover, one Passover for resident and native
2 Samuel 11-12: The Story of Bathsheba (the wife of Uriah) and King David
Psalm 47
Psalm 51
Psalm 67
Psalm 100
Psalm 117
Isaiah 54, 55, 56 (a covenant for all people)
Zephaniah 3:8-13 (the Gathering of all people….in unity)
Luke 3 (signs of the Messiah in genealogy)
Acts 9: The Conversion of Saul
Hebrews 11: A Genealogy of Faith
The Scriptures for this week are too many and too long to print out here; but not too long to summarize or read in service or Bible study. You may choose one of them, or, as in this exegesis, look at all of them. The Hebrew stories correspond to the genealogy in Matthew’s gospel. I suggest that you print out the two genealogies (in Matthew and in Luke) or just the one in Matthew, or you may show the text on a screen, or have people open their Bibles, so that they are looking at the gospel along with you, as you then tell the stories from the Hebrew testament of Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba. Another idea is to have your small groups study the Hebrew stories ahead of time, and then focus your sermon on the genealogies in the gospels that attest to Jesus as the Messiah.
Matthew 1
A genealogy of Jesus the Messiah,
The son of David, the son of Abraham.
Abraham was the father of Isaac, and Isaac the father of Jacob, and Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers, and Judah the father of Perez and Zerah by Tamar,
and Perez the father of Hezron, and Hezron the father of Aram, and Aram the father of Aminadab, and Aminadab the father of Nahshon, and Nahshon the father of Salmon, and Salmon the father of Boaz by Rahab,
and Boaz the father of Obed by Ruth,
and Obed the father of Jesse, and Jesse the father of David.
And David was the father of Solomon by the wife of Uriah, and Solomon the father of Rehoboam, and Rehoboam the father of Abijah, and Abijah the father of Asaph, and Asaph the father of Jehoshaphat, and Jehoshaphat the father of Joram, and Joram the father of Uzziah, and Uzziah the father of Jotham, and Jotham the father of Ahaz, and Ahaz the father of Hezekiah, and Hezekiah the frather of Manasseh, and Mannasseh the father of Amos, and Amos the father of Josiah, and Josiah the father of Jechoniah and his brothers, at the time of the deportation to Babylon.
And after deportation to Babylon: Jechoniah was the father of Salathiel, and Salathiel the father of Zerubbabel, and Zerubbabel the father of Abiud, and Biud the father of Eliakim, and Eliakim the father of Azor, and Azor the father of Zadok, and Zadok the father of Achim, and Achim the father of Eliud, and Eliud the father of Eleazar, and Eleazar the father of Matthan, and Matthan the father of Jacob,
and Jacob the father of Joseph the husband of Mary, of whom Jesus was born, who is called the Messiah.
So all the generations from Abraham to David and fourteen generations; and from David to the deportation to Babylon, fourteen generations; and from the deportation to Babylon to the Messiah, fourteen generations.
Image Exegesis: Surrogates, Seals, and Arrhabons
Matthew’s and Luke’s gospels contain genealogies, which most times we gloss over in search of more “interesting” paragraphs. But we do this to our detriment, for both Matthew and Luke both use the “genealogy” as yet another sign of Jesus’ identity as the messiah. In fact, I will assert in this image exegesis that the genealogy itself is a metaphor, and within it lies hints of an entire network of vital metaphors, waiting to be unfolded and revealed.
Matthew’s lineage is of particular interest, because within it, the writer includes five women: Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba, and Mary. We know as scholars that Jewish genealogies never included women. The genealogy of a woman was told through her male ancestors. We strongly suspect that Luke’s genealogy is a genealogy of Mary’s lineage, told through her male ancestors, thereby naming Jesus as the “supposed” son of Joseph, and in the lineage of a son of Adam, son of God. Because Joseph is not Jesus’ true father (the Holy Spirit is); therefore, Mary’s blood lineage is all important in establishing Jesus’ lineage from Adam through the Davidic line (through Nathan). Matthew’s lineage establishes Jesus’ right to the Jewish throne through David (via Solomon). Matthew begins with Abraham (the covenantal root) and David (establishing Jesus’ Hebrew royal lineage through the house of Judah). The Essenes taught that the awaited Messiah would be the result of a twin bloodline (on both mother’s and “adopted” father’s side). So this “proof” would have been extremely important to those who wished to see Jesus’ messianic heritage scripturally.*
We know that Jewish genealogies trace bloodlines as “father of” or “son of,” but the lineage can skip some generations. The genealogy is there to make a point about bloodline, not to list every single person or generation. And “son of” could mean for example, one is the “son” of one’s ancestor several generations back.
Genealogies (particularly in Genesis, but in other areas of scripture as well, including in Ruth) trace the recognition of God and God’s relationship with the Hebrews (who shall be a light to all peoples) through covenant history. Both Matthew and Luke tie Jesus’ relationship both with John the Baptizer’s prophetic introduction of Jesus as the messiah and with Jesus’ birth story.
But only Matthew inserts the strange additional lines regarding 5 key women. Now when one thinks of scripture, one wonders at first why he wouldn’t choose some of Jewish history’s great women of the faith, such as Sarai or Rachel. But he doesn’t mention them at all. He mentions these five women in an unusual way:
“…whose mother was Tamar”
“…whose mother was Rahab”
“….whose mother was Ruth”
“…whose mother had been Uriah’s wife.”
“…the husband of Mary”
Matthew deliberately calls special attention to these women and these only. He doesn’t name every wife. He names 5 women (Bathsheba not even by name) with very special stories in the history of the faith, and in Jesus’ lineage, all of them “gentiles” or married to one (ethne in Greek) or the original Jewish “goyim” (people or cultures other than Jewish)**, or one could use in the case of four of them the fairly interchangeable word “nokhri” (foreigners). All of them (save Mary) have intermarried. Technically Mary has “intermarried” also with the Holy Spirit. All of them, including Mary by human standards, would have been considered by the ruling group of Pharisees in Jesus’ day (the Shammai) unclean, and their intermarriages would have been condemned.
All of them contain important clues that link the original Hebrew witness of God’s will for humanity with Jesus’ “recovering” of God’s true voice calling out from the Torah, the Psalms, and the Prophets. Jesus would use these scriptures to “battle” the exclusionary theology of the Shammai Pharisees. Each of these Hebrew stories contain key metaphors that contribute to understanding Matthew’s witness about Jesus and his mission (or God’s mission) to God’s people. All of them revolve around a larger metaphor that sums up God’s covenantal promise to all of us: the arrhabon.
Arrhabon is a Hebrew word, later borrowed into Greek as arabon or arrabon. It means essentially “collateral” for a promise made or debt owed. It is a temporary “down payment” of something valued highly that guarantees or assures that the pledge or inheritance will be fulfilled and the agreement “sealed.” While in the Hebrew tradition, the arrabon would have referred to something tangible, in the New Testament for Paul, the arrabon becomes the Holy Spirit, which bears witness among and within us to the gift of our heavenly inheritance, and assures the “sealing” of our covenant of eternal life in Jesus. This Holy Spirit arrabon is a gift to ALL God’s people. And it is exactly this which Matthew makes clear in his genealogy, which includes these 5 Hebrew stories of not just foreigners, but women who have guaranteed that Jesus’ covenant lineage would be fulfilled. In other words, Jesus has gentiles in his heritage. And Jesus’ mission, along with the mission of his disciples, and later the passionate Paul would strongly include bringing ALL of God’s people, including gentiles, and even sinners back to God.
In Jesus’ day, this mission would embroil him within a vicious dispute between the two prevailing Pharisaic schools of the time, in which one in particular would be the focus of his anger, his laser-sharp criticisms, and his stories. The gospel writers meant to prove that Jesus’ life and mission was the fulfillment of the Hebrew scriptures. And they meant to demonstrate how Jesus sought to return people, especially the sheep of Israel, to the true scriptural understanding of God’s intent for all of his people, and Israel’s role in bringing them back into the fold. Jesus would maintain that the Temple hierarchy in its current leadership had been not only misunderstanding and abusing their “identity” as God’s chosen and claiming a heritage their actions didn’t deserve (see John the Baptizer’s accusation as he introduces Jesus in all four gospels), but also that they were “breaking the covenant” itself by shutting out most of God’s people from “his” loving arms. In order to understand what Matthew is telling us, we need to take a look at the four Hebrew stories –of the “non-Jewish surrogates”-- who play an important role in the continuing of the covenant line to the messiah, as well as the competing “theological” schools of Jesus’ contemporaries.
The women or “surrogates” are themselves “metaphors” for the “seal” of God’s covenant. And while each of their stories contains an “arrabon,” their marriages and children –the continuance of the covenant lineage—can also be seen as an “arrabon” to the promise of God to Israel –to all people.
TAMAR
The story of Tamar involves Judah (who would represent one of the tribes of Israel). Out of the line of Judah, the messiah would come. Judah was one of the sons of Jacob. Jacob first married Leah and had several sons: Reuben (the eldest), Simeon, Levi, Judah, Issachar, and Zebulun. Jacob then married Rachel and had Joseph and Benjamin. Rachel died in childbirth having Benjamin on the way to Bethlehem Ephrath where they would settle. Jacob then had children with Bilhah (Rachel’s maid): Dan and Naphtali, and he had children with Zilpah (Leah’s maid): Gad and Asher.
Everyone is familiar with the story of Joseph, the favorite (remember Jacob’s passion for Rachel), and his betrayal by his step brothers. Oddly, in between the story of Joseph being sold into slavery and his adventures in Egypt is inserted the story of Judah and Tamar.
After Judah participates in 17-year-old Joseph’s betrayal, Judah moves to another region in Canaan and marries the daughter of a man named Shua. Her name is left out, as she is unimportant to the story.**** They have three sons: Er, Onan, and Shelah. Judah chose a wife for Er: Tamar. The story tells us quickly that Er was wicked and died before he and Tamar could have children.
In the Jewish tradition, when a brother dies, a “levirate” marriage is a marriage of honor by the brother of the dead man, so that the man’s wife might have children in the eldest’s name. The brother or relative would also then inherit the elder’s land and possessions in addition to his wife. But the son of the union would be considered the son of the dead eldest and would continue to inherit the property upon coming of age.
Judah promised Onan to Tamar. And Onan fulfilled the levirate requirement; however, he was angry (most likely at not gaining the property for himself if they should have a child), and so he spilled his “seed” continually, so that Tamar could not become pregnant. Onan then also died. And so Judah promised his youngest son Shelah to Tamar, when he would come of age. (He was still young). And he sent her home to her parents until that time would come. But when Shelah came of age, Judah put off his promise to Tamar. And so Tamar set out to trick Judah, in order to gain back her honor and have a child within the family, securing both her future and the future of her child.
Dressing as a prostitute (by covering her face with a veil), she waited by the gate (where prostitutes hung out), and when Judah propositioned her, she slept with him, becoming pregnant. But Tamar was quite sly. For payment for her services, Judah promised her a lamb (a kid from the flock). But since he did not have the lamb with him, Tamar demanded of him an “arrabon” –collateral to ensure that Judah would keep his word. And she asked of him that he leave with her his “signet ring/stamp, the rope it hung from, and his staff.”
Now in the ancient world, these are identity markers. The staff and signet bore the family “crest.” They identified the elder of the tribe and gave him his authority and birthright. So in essence metaphorically, Judah handed Tamar the “power and identity markers” of his lineage –the “rights” to his covenant line.
Not realizing what had happened, when Judah (the leader of the tribe and disciplinarian of tribal law) found out that Tamar was pregnant, she was accused of being a whore and would have been burned to death. However, secretly, so as to preserve Judah’s honor as head of the tribe, she went to him with the staff, rope, and signet, and declared that these belonged to the father of her child. Realizing, he was the one in error, since he had denied her the right of levirate marriage, and that she was carrying his child, Judah had no choice but to exonerate her and allow her to be freed.
Similar to the trickery that allowed Jacob to carry the covenant lineage over Esau, Tamar’s “veiled” act gave her a new identity as the mother of Perez and Zerah, and made her a vital link in the messianic line. The metaphor of “identity” –the staff and the signet—both given to her, sanction her as mother of a “father” of the messiah. She becomes a surrogate and her lineage part of the promise of God’s covenant. Just as Jesus becomes our identity, the Holy Spirit becomes the arrabon that assures us of God’s promise of life in Jesus. We are, as Paul puts it, the “adopted” sons and daughters of God, secured by Jesus. Just as the staff and signet were Tamar’s “insurance,” the Holy Spirit is our assurance and advocate for our inheritance. As Tamar had the seed of the “Tribe of Judah” planted within her, we also have the “seed” of Jesus engraved upon our hearts by the indwelling of the Spirit.
RAHAB
The story of Rahab is also the story of a surrogate. Rahab was a non-Jewish woman who lived in Jericho. As Joshua followed God’s promise to secure the land and the city of Jericho for the Israelites, he and a few of his men went into the city to look things over. Rahab was a woman who kept an “inn,” most likely a combination of a bar and brothel. She herself was most likely a prostitute. Joshua and his companions came to Rahab to escape the king of Jericho who was searching for the intruders, and she hid them from sight among the bundles of flax drying on the roof of the inn. Then, she sent the search party in another direction. Rahab tells them, she heard of the wonders of the God of the Hebrews and believed this God must be the God of heaven and earth, and so she bid the men to protect her and her family, since she had protected them. And she warned them to hide in the hill country for three days before their attack. Joshua and his men made an oath with her and bid her to hang a crimson cord from her window. When they would see the crimson cord, they would not attack her house, and she and her family would be spared.
Then Joshua and his men along with the Arc of the Covenant (the shekinah) crossed the Jordan and set up stones at Gilgal to mark the 12 tribes, and there they celebrated Passover before sounding the seven ram’s horns that would bring the walls of the city to ruin. When they took Jericho, upon seeing the red cord, they spared Rahab and her family. Later Rahab would marry into the Hebrew line and bear Boaz, who would later marry another of our surrogates, Ruth.
The sign of the oath or the arrabon in this story, although the word isn’t specifically used as such, is the “crimson cord.” The crimson cord as a metaphor has multiple meanings as a covenant marker, and a “down payment” for the seal of God. When twins are born, the midwife ties a red string upon the hand or foot of the one who first protrudes. However, several times in scripture (and this was the case with Perez and Zerah), one child will begin to emerge and bear a red thread, but then the second twin fights to come out first and often succeeds, usurping the right of bloodline (the eldest) of his brother. The “bloodline” marker therefore is an identity marker. And as Rahab has sworn herself to the God of the Israelites, she is allowed to now bear the marker of the covenant lineage. But there is an even greater metaphorical meaning to the crimson cord.
The story of Rahab and Joshua takes place at Passover. In the Jewish tradition, Passover is the promise of God to spare the Israelites from harm when the angel of death strikes down all (see Exodus), except for the Israelites and their families who are told to smear their door frames with the blood of a lamb. The angel of death passed over all homes upon which the doorframe bore the crimson mark of God’s promise.
Rahab’s “crimson cord” marked her home “spared” by Joshua –more importantly by God, who protected her and her family, because of her faith and loyalty. She swore herself to God and asked for God’s protection. God (the symbol of the arc of covenant or shekinah which voice through the ram’s horn topped the walls of Jericho) spared the home upon which the “red cord” was tied across the window frame.
This promise of Moses bestowed upon Rahab, a converted gentile woman, marks the second important link in Jesus’ birthline. Jesus would later several times commend gentiles for their great faithfulness, even comparing them more favorably than his own disciples (for example: the woman from Syriophoenicia).
The flaxen roof in which the men are hidden would also be a sign of harvest. And a sign for both Rahab and Tamar that being “Jewish” has to do not with physical “bloodline” but with a covenant of “faithfulness.” This is exactly the message that John the Baptizer shouts to the Pharisees upon introducing Jesus in John (see the exegesis from last week), in which he tells them they cannot depend upon their descent from Abraham. But their actions and heart must reveal their “true” nature as a “child” of Abraham. When Jesus declares to many that repentant sinners will have more a place in God’s kingdom than the Pharisees who claim to follow each “letter” of the law, he refers to the covenantal right of ALL people to be sons and daughters of Abraham. Those with a contrite heart will enter the kingdom before any who claim a bloodline but bear a bloodthirsty soul.
“By faith the harlot Rahab did not perish with those who did not believe, when she had received the spies with peace.” (Hebrews 11:31)
The Messiah’s proud lineage is one of earnest heart and sealed with the promise of God’s desire to bring all of his flock home.*****
“Everyone who calls upon the Lord shall be saved.” (Romans 10:13)
RUTH
The story of Ruth begins when Hebrews Elimelech and Naomi travel from Bethlehem (Ephrath) in Judah to Moab due to famine with sons Mahlon and Chilion. Then Elimelech dies and their sons marry Moabite (foreign or local –goyim) women, Orpah and Ruth. After about 10 years, both Mahlon and Chilion die, leaving Naomi with her two daughters in law. With no male to provide for them, the women are essentially homeless. Naomi therefore make the decision to travel back to Judah, where she has relatives. She tells Orpah and Ruth, they should stay there in Moab with their own families, and after a while, Orpah stays. But Ruth, in one of the most endearing lines in Hebrew history, tells Naomi, she will never leave her side. “Your people are my people; and your God is my God,” she says.
Ruth’s story is yet another story about character, loyalty to God and people, honor, and service. Ruth’s heart is rewarded when they return to Judah. She begins to glean after other women working in the fields and meets Boaz (son of Salmon and Rahab). Boaz takes Ruth “under his wing” because of her gentle and humble attitude of service.^ He has also heard of her loyalty to Naomi, who it turns out is a relative. When Naomi realizes, Ruth has met her kin Boaz, she realizes that a levirate marriage could be contracted. And she instructs Ruth to go in while Boaz is sleeping and “uncover his feet” to lie at his feet. (a sexual connotation). She does, and Boaz, realizing the connotation, vows an oath to make sure Ruth is granted a levirate marriage. He knows of a kinsman who is ahead in line to him. He promises, that if this kinsman refuses her, then he, Boaz, will marry her himself, and therefore gain the land of Elimelech, and his property, along with responsibility for Naomi and Ruth.
As a token of this promise, his “arrabon” to Ruth is 6 measures of barley which he puts into her shawl to carry on her back. Just as Elisha is called from the fields by Elijah by placing his cloak upon his back, here Ruth is called into Jewish heritage by means of the barley grain (omer) wrapped in a cloak upon her back. This arrabon is more than just a call however. This metaphor is wrapped and soaked in meaning, for the time of the barley harvest in Bethlehem is the celebration of first fruits, and is a symbol of consummation of inheritance, of betrothal, of the presence of God, of righteousness. It is also the symbol of resurrection which begins the countdown to Pentecost. It is a time of great joy when identity is formed and the seal of the Spirit would be coming. At First Fruits, the betrothal is made. At Pentecost it is redeemed.
We see this symbol especially, as the place where Ruth and Boaz unite is upon the threshing floor, where grain is separated from the chaff. In this deciding moment of consummation, Ruth’s character shines through, and she is granted the symbol of the “barley,” –declared a righteous woman in the eyes of Boaz and of God. Jesus would later also use the metaphor of the threshing floor, as it is used here. The reference to his winnowing fork already appears in John the Baptizer’s lecture to the Pharisees. Ruth has become part of the family through her character and her faith.
“May you have a full reward from the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come for refuge!” says Boaz to Ruth distinguishing the land of her birth from the new “family” of her heart.
But the story goes further. When Boaz approaches his kinsman and offers Ruth and Elimilech’s property to him first, he initially eagerly accepts, but when he finds out that Ruth is a foreigner, he immediately then declines, saying she would muddle and spoil his bloodline. Boaz then accepts Ruth as his bride himself. This part of the story is a direct rebuke of those who would adhere to a strict definition of “bloodline” as opposed to a genealogy of faithfulness, or a heritage made up of God’s faithful, no matter what their physical “ethne.”
Boaz’s witnesses say in fact to him, “May your house be like the house of Perez, whom Tamar bore to Judah.” Like Tamar, Ruth would become a proud link in the lineage of the coming Messiah, who would see no categories, but only God’s children in all people.
Boaz and Ruth would go on to bear Obed (the father of Jesse, father of David to emphasize the messianic royal line). And the women would say to Naomi, “Your daughter in law who bore him is more to you than 7 sons.” What a compliment in a day when only men mattered!
But more than that, Obed, the son of Boaz and Ruth’s union at the time of First Fruits would be the fruit of redemption, as the messianic line would bear the consummation of the messiah.
“…But you received the Spirit of adoption, by when we cry out, “Abba Father!” The Spirit Himself testifies together with the Spirit that we are God’s children….and if a son then an heir through God.” Galatians 4:4-7
The day of First Fruits (Barley Harvest) is also called the Day of the Great Oath. It was the day that Boaz made an oath to Ruth, and when God’s oath to harvest all people was proven by the gift of grain, his “arrabon” of hope.
BATHSHEBA
The story of Bathsheba seems at first not to fit into the pattern that Tamar, Rahab, and Ruth do. King David sees Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah the Hittite, one of David’s men in battle, coming out of the mikveh (ritual bath after her menstruation time). He sends for her and has his way with her. She becomes pregnant. At first, David tries to trick her husband Uriah, home on leave, to go and sleep with her, hoping he could divert the “problem.” But Uriah declines out of honor to his troops. And so David has him sent to the front lines, where his men withdraw from him, leaving him open to be killed. David then marries Bathsheba.
The prophet Nathan then confronts David by telling him a story about a wealthy man with many flocks who confiscates the only treasured, precious pet ewe of a poor man, leaving him devastated and broken hearted. David is angered, only to learn, he has committed the equivalent. And he repents.
But the baby dies. Later, David consoles Bathsheba, and lays with her (his surrogate wife), so that she bore a son, Solomon, from whose line the messiah would come.
Notice that nowhere is Bathsheba blamed for a crime. Notice that nowhere is David chastised for adultery. His crime is selfishness and lack of compassion. Why?
In the story by Nathan, he compares the poor man’s affection for the ewe as that of a daughter, who was beloved and cherished. And Nathan says, the man “brought up the ewe” and it ate along with his children.
Is Bathsheba (the daughter of opulence) mentioned in the story a young girl who has perhaps just reached maturity? In biblical times, the young girl could have been married to Uriah the Hittite before she reached puberty. How old is Uriah? We also don’t know. We sense, she is a Jewish young woman, but the story makes no mention of her parentage. We do know however that she is married to a foreigner, who fights for David in his royal army. Was David’s passion for her out of line because she was young and inexperienced? Were Bathsheba and Uriah under an arrangement of “suspension of marriage” during wartime, as could have been under Uriah’s circumstances, in which case they were not legally bound? For the punishment for both of them for adultery would have been death. Did David dishonor her, since it is honorable to wait 7 days after menstruation to lay with a woman? Did the King have a right to take any woman of the kingdom he wished? We know David had many wives and concubines within his household. His desire for Bathsheba could have been seen as gluttony.
Or….did David break up a perfectly good (but frowned upon) arranged “mixed” marriage between a Jew and a Hittite, in order to create a pure one between Bathsheba and himself? Did he desire her sincerely but not have the patience and honor to wait for her until he could arrange it? Or as Nathan suggests, did he not have the grace to leave something he desired to another who cherished his prize?
In Matthew’s genealogy, he refers to “Uriah’s wife,” leaving out her name. The emphasis is on the fact that she was the wife of another and therefore a "surrogate" in the covenant line. Does she herself …the little lamb….symbolize a deeper metaphorical meaning for Matthew as a “Lamb of God” whose purity (symbolized by Bathsheba in the washing/baptizing in the mikveh) is violated by the forceful authority of the powerful David? Does Uriah symbolize the foreigner who is disrespected and his possessions and feelings not valued, since he is not truly of Jewish descent? Is this David’s greatest sin? Just as Judah sinned against Tamar in not upholding her levirate right, David sins against Uriah, taking his prize possession. “If you do it to another, you do it to me,” said Jesus. As Ruth’s and Tamar’s and Rahab’s faithfulness made them part of the Jewish heritage, David’s greatest sin was a sin of “faithfulness” against God and against Uriah, who should have been able to trust him and their relationship.
We do know that David in the end did marry Bathsheba, and they bore a son, Solomon who would succeed David on the throne. And after David’s death, during the reign of Solomon, Bathsheba would take on a role as “queen mother,” a more powerful role than a typical female would have in a royal court. With Solomon, the covenant is again “sealed.”
We do know that no matter what Israel’s sin, God puts forth an arrabon of forgiveness and grace, and a promise that the covenant will stand. The child, Solomon, God’s gift of forgiveness to David and Bathsheba will continue the lineage of the Hebrew people and their relationship with God. Even things that started out wrong can end up right as God continues to bless the union of David and Bathsheba.
This story could be our story. For we have killed God’s only and beloved son. In some of the first words of the gospel, we hear that God is pleased with his beloved Son. But the Lamb of God would be slain, and we will have taken the beloved incarnation of God away in selfishness and lack of compassion. In this act, we have broken our covenant of faithfulness with God. And yet in Jesus’ resurrection, and as the Holy Spirit comes upon us during the season of Pentecost, we, like David and Bathsheba, are yet again given a new “arrabon” by God, with the promise to all of God’s faithful throughout all generations.
The arrabon is not just an indwelling but a foretaste of the glory to come, as we truly become “adopted” sons and daughters of the one and only God. The metaphor of genealogy is in a sense the “Word of God written upon our hearts.” It is the inscription of God’s relationships with people who are faithful to Him throughout the history of a people. It is the “lineage of faithfulness” that will lead to the fulfillment of God’s visitation upon the earth, and the culmination of His covenantal promise.
Lineage is powerful. Many positions of power have been stolen or usurped through unrightful heirs. What makes a “rightful” or “righteous” heir in God’s lineage? It’s not a bloodline. It’s a faithful heart. And to those who are faithful, God gives full inheritance. In a sense, the genealogy is God’s “family tree,” not just of those who lived before, but of their stories, their metaphors, that remind us who we are and who we must be to honor those who came before.
This idea of lineage as those who are faithful, whether Jew or goyim (gentile) is one that Jesus would take into his ministry as he begins his mission. And it is ultimately what would incense the Pharisees and High Priests of the Temple. Why? Here is a small snapshot of the Jerusalem Jesus entered into when he began his ministry those years ago.
HILLEL AND SHAMMAI
When Jesus was a young boy, changes were taking place in Jerusalem, and a fierce dichotomy grew between the “theology” of two Schools of Pharisees, the School (or House) of Hillel and the School (or House) of Shammai.
Hillel was one of the most respected, if not the most respected Jewish rabbi in history. He is said never to anger no matter what challenge came before him, and he is characterized as humble, wise, righteous, and kind. He loved the Torah and lived a mission to return people to the true Torah, to bring people closer to the Torah and to bring them under the “wings of the shekinah.” He believed that one must not just be the seed of Abraham but a “disciple” of Abraham, that the way one lived his or her life mattered most in being a child of God. Hillel liked to pursue those who didn’t come to be a disciple on their own. Hillel advocated for Jews, gentiles, and even sinners to come close to God, and he did not look for the best and most wealthy students, but chose his students from every walk of life. He had over 80 disciples. Hillel believed strongly that Jews must not separate themselves from the community, and that all people were welcome at God’s table. He and his disciples were moderates one could say. They followed the Torah and Jewish laws, but based on Moses’ reception of Jethro, Hillel’s disciples felt that all people could choose the way of Life in God.^^ Hillel believed strongly in a lineage of “faithfulness.” The people loved Hillel. And his many disciples once dominated the Sanhedrin in Jerusalem. However, as the House of Shammai grew, they began more and more to replace positions in the Sanhedrin and align with the Priests and Sadducees until at the time Jesus’ ministry began, they dominated the Jerusalem Temple. But although the Shammai would rule over Temple life, the “people” loved Hillel --and they would love Jesus and his message too!
The Shammai were extremists about the legalities of Jewish life. Whereas Hillel emphasized “love God and neighbor,” Shammai and his disciples emphasized rituals and laws of purity and keeping them meticulously. And many of those rules meant excluding anyone who was not of the Jewish bloodline. If someone was sick, blemished, a foreigner, a tax collector, a sinner, or married to someone of foreign descent, they were deemed unclean and they could not enter the Temple. They could not be absolved with sin offerings. The “rules” increased and multiplied in number and in emphasis for the Jewish population as the Shammai grew in power.
As the Shammai grew more extreme, many of Hillel’s disciples along with Hillel’s colleague, Menahem the Essene, removed themselves from positions in the Sanhedrin, and many fled to outlying areas (in the wilderness of Judea). It is noted in fact that in one particular meeting, several Hillel disciples were killed by Shammai. (This may be the accusation Jesus is making to the Pharisees as he rides into Jerusalem in the Procession of the Lambs). By the time Jesus is beginning his ministry, the Shammai are the majority in the Sanhedrin and, along with the High Priests and Sadducees, are controlling the politics of the Temple. It was with these Pharisees that Jesus and John the Baptizer wrestled. And it was these High Priests who sentenced Jesus, and later several of his disciples, to death.
After the destruction of the Temple, a disciple of Hillel restructured the Sanhedrin, and the Judaism that emerged from that time onward is one grounded again in the theology of the “Great Hillel.”
When John the Baptizer (as told in all four gospels) confronts the Pharisees who come to the Jordan, and point to “one among them” who will become the Messiah, when he is calling them a “brood of vipers,” he is speaking to the Shammai Pharisees who are in power at that time, and who feel justified by their Abrahamic bloodline. John tells them, their blood cannot save them. Interestingly, Hillel once also said, for God, one must not be of the seed of Abraham, but must be a “disciple” of Abraham. Rabbi Hillel would reach out to the gentiles, to the sinners, to the poor, and he called many of his 80 disciples from the poorest. Jesus would do the same. Paul, mentored and taught by Gamaliel (the grandson of Hillel), would soon experience a dramatic conversion, and would spend the rest of his life passionately bringing the good news of Jesus’ resurrection hope to the gentiles.
Jesus’ gentile mission is one echoed in the Hebrew Testament. But God’s desire to call all of His people was overshadowed for a time by legalisms and exclusion. Jesus made it his mission to turn the hearts of the sheep of Israel back to God’s intended message, and to call out to all of God’s people, and bring them ALL back into the fold. He didn’t do it in the ways expected. But that is never God’s way –to do the expected. God always does so very much more!
*David’s name in Hebrew gematria (numerology) equals 14. His name is also 14th in the listed lineage.
**The Hebrew word “goyim” referred to any “peoples” but especially to those other cultures or peoples who were not Jewish. It was not used negatively, but could even be used for the group of people who have strayed from the faith. The Greek keeps this meaning in ethne. The word “gentile” does not come into existence until the 14th Century in Latin, along with the idea of the word meaning “nations.”
***For further information on Bet (the House or School) of Hillel and Bet Shammai, see both the Jewish Encyclopedia and The Life and Teachings of Hillel by Yitzhak Buxbaum, NY: Rowman & Littlefield, 1994, 2004 (posted online by Emerson Pimentel).
****Interesting is that in the David and Bathsheba story, we again encounter the name “shua” (the original that we call sheba), Bathsheba is also named Bathshua (a daughter of opulence). It may be that Judah married the daughter of a rich man. In several Jewish dictionary sources, Bathshua (or Bathsheba) is the name given both to the wife of Uriah and the wife of Judah.
*****While the Jewish midrash claims that Rahab married Joshua, other sources claim Joshua never married, and Matthew’s lineage claims she married Salmon. But as we see with these stories, what is important in this gospel lineage is not the “accuracy of fact” or “infallibility of generational flow,” but the story of faith that God’s covenantal lineage conveys. It would take Jesus’ disciples until after his death and resurrection, even after Pentecost, to at last understand this facet of Jesus’ mission and ministry, and the truth of God’s promise.
^An attitude of service is attractive to God. We see a similar story in the call of Elisha from plowing his fields into service to Elijah by means of his cloak.
