In the New Testament, both Hebrews[1] and James[2] uplift Rahab as a model of righteousness. But despite what these epistles might imply, Rahab was objectively not a faithful woman. Our first clue is zonah, in the original Hebrew, meaning “one who commits adultery”. But while it’s certainly worth considering how her location on the margins of society might have impacted Rahab’s choices, it requires us to read an AWFUL lot into a single word out of the hundreds in this passage. From a strictly literary perspective, Rahab’s profession doesn’t have any direct relevance to the story – which makes me wonder if Scripture might actually be using this word in a different way.
It turns out that zonah (and its various forms) can also be used in a metaphorical sense, to describe SPIRITUAL (rather than physical) infidelity – and the First Testament does this regularly. The prophets often refer to Israel as a zonah when the people act in ways that are theologically or even politically unfaithful to God.[3] In this context, the word is obviously not describing a specific act but refers instead to a broader attitude of faithlessness. When we expand our understanding of zonah in this way, we find that this single word is, in fact, VERY relevant to the story at hand.
Rahab is the epitome of a metaphorical zonah in that she doesn’t seem to have ANY loyalty to anyone but her immediate family. As a gentile, she obviously has no fidelity towards the God of Israel, and she certainly doesn’t help the Israelite spies out of any sense of allegiance to them, but at the same time, she doesn’t hesitate to betray her own king and people to protect her kin. She’s in it for herself. Her persistent faithlessness seems to be the opposite of everything that we value as people of faith. And yet, as I mentioned before, both Hebrews and James explicitly name her as righteous. So, what gives? How could such an unfaithful woman belong to the same category as paragons of faithfulness like Abraham and Sarah, Moses and Miriam, and Mary and Joseph?
The answer lies in the very reason we value faithfulness so highly in the first place. Faithfulness isn’t especially impressive as an attitude in and of itself, especially if this attitude is never put to the test. The measure of its worth lies in how our faithfulness inspires us to ACT. A faithful marriage necessarily involves the act of resisting temptations, a faithful friendship necessarily involves the act of providing support, and a faithful relationship with God is no different. It assumes a certain type of behavior: tending the poor and sick, welcoming the stranger, caring for creation, and so on. It’s this behavior that separates those who are faithful from those who are zonah. Our faithfulness is valuable because it inspires us to act in ways that are pleasing to God and beneficial to God’s plan on our behalf.
Rahab, of course, doesn’t have this sort of covenant relationship guiding her behavior. But that doesn’t mean that there’s nothing motivating her to act. Indeed, her surprising choices – hiding the Israelite spies and lying to the king’s men about it – they’re the heart of this story. Unlike other biblical heroes that we celebrate, however, her actions are inspired by something other than faithfulness: HER motivation comes from her ability to see and understand the bigger picture. She’s able to perceive the truth behind the stories about the God of Israel, she’s able to perceive the effect that these stories are having on her fellow Jerichoans, and she’s able to perceive the outcome of the inevitable clash between their peoples.
Although we probably wouldn’t consider her motivations to be righteous, centuries of theologians have declared on no uncertain terms that her actions are. As a result of her perception, she’s able to do many of the very same things that others are only willing do out of a sense of faithful obligation: radical hospitality, risk-taking, and subverting the powers that act counter to God’s will. Because of her gift, Rahab also becomes the very first gentile to fully throw her lot in with the Israelites – and by extension, with God. Despite her non-traditional motivations, God has counted these actions as righteous and ultimately rewarded Rahab with an honored place among Jesus’ ancestors.
Of course, faithfulness is important, but Rahab is proof that we need to stop thinking about it (especially our particular version) as the only path to righteousness. Maybe that’s the greatest lesson of Rahab’s story – that the things we tend to emphasize aren’t actually as important to God as we imagine them to be. After all, there are plenty of ways for God to work through and with humanity, despite our many differences. God WILL accomplish God’s ends, even if the people chosen to play a role don’t jump through the religious hoops that we demand of them.
Perhaps it’s through a Muslim’s gift of forgiveness that peace will finally begin to blossom in the middle east – certainly a righteous cause. Or through a Buddhist’s gift of selflessness that our culture will finally begin to value human life over profit – undoubtedly part of God’s plan. Or maybe it could even be through an atheist’s gift of compassion that the world will finally begin to understand God’s all-encompassing love. None of these people’s sense of “faithfulness” perfectly matches ours, but that doesn’t matter. We shouldn’t be so arrogant as to believe that our path to righteousness is the only one that God is willing to use – especially when scripture proves otherwise.
Despite humanity’s clannish nature, we know from Scripture, history, biology, and even our own experiences that God didn’t create human beings to be isolated from one another. We succeed when we work together. And Jesus has come, in part, to prove this to us. Beginning with his own genealogy and continuing with his choice to surround himself with tax collectors, lepers, and other outsiders, just like Rahab, Jesus makes it clear to “anyone with ears to hear”[4] – anyone who can perceive it – that we cannot judge righteousness based on how well someone fits in with us. If we’re paying attention, there’s no way for us to pretend that God endorses the fences that we carefully build around others based on who or what we think they “should” be. Only God can decide that – and God always opts for radical, unexpected inclusion.
We wouldn’t have Jesus without the “traditional” faithfulness of people like Mary and Joseph, but we also wouldn’t have Jesus without Rahab. A woman who had absolutely nothing in common with God’s people, she was included in Jesus’ genealogy to remind us that it takes human beings from all walks of life, representing all levels of faithfulness, with all different gifts, to bring us to the manger. God wants us to understand exactly how much we owe to people who are not like us. God’s plan is, and always has been, larger than any one group of people. Rahab may not be the sort of person that WE would have chosen to be a part of Jesus’ lineage – but she’s the person that GOD chose.
This is good news indeed, friends! God requires neither perfection nor conformity from those who, for whatever reason, chose to behave righteously – and neither should we. May we always recognize those who act with the righteousness of Rahab, even – especially – when it doesn’t fit our own definition. Because God’s is the only definition that counts – and may we share Rahab’s gift of perception, so that we might be able to perceive this truth always. Amen.
----------------------------------------------
1 Hebrews 11:31.
2 James 2:25.
3 https://biblehub.com/hebrew/2181.htm.
4 Mark 4:9, 23; Matthew 11:15.
No comments:
Post a Comment