Rahab joins the people of God from the outside. God gives Abraham a commission to create a people who would be a blessing to the nations. Yet even in the Old Testament we see God’s plan to explode our concepts of family. The Old Testament has a high emphasis on family-on marriage, procreation, the lineage of the people of God defined by nationality and birth. Christians in the US have adopted a narrow definition of “family” influenced by the American dream: mom, dad, two-and-a-half kids, pets, white picket fence. But “family” in the Bible works differently. “Family” is crucially important in the Bible, but maybe not in the ways we often think.

Where she fits into the kingdom of God matters immensely. Essentially, where she fits into a biological or nuclear family does not matter. Yet Luke describes something strange and foreign to people of that time (and very often to us today): that her marital status, family position, or social status do not matter. These descriptions struggle to fit her into the patriarchal family structure of the time-to figure out the answer to a question that was very relevant, that early readers would have asked too: who do you belong to? Where do you fit? What role do you play? However, these descriptions answer questions that the text doesn’t invite us to ask. Some scholars think Tabitha was a widow: she was living among and caring for widows, her husband or children are not named, and she devoted her attention to serving the church. Some scholars think she was an unmarried young woman, perhaps even a formal benefactor, occupying a role of significance and status in a patronage society. Tabitha’s story is the story of a woman who very likely did not “fit” the family mold.

We struggle to meet the expectations that come with those roles, especially as our families, ourselves, and the world changes. Whoever our families are, we’ve probably felt that weight-of being someone’s sibling or son or niece or grandchild. I did not live up to the expectations of my mother’s legacy. I was setting up food for volunteers, and one of the women declared to the group, “Kaitlyn can make these desserts look pretty, she’s Debbie’s daughter. My mom worked in churches my whole life-so at every church activity and event, I was “Debbie’s daughter.” In college when I interned for a church where my mom was a beloved leader, I immediately felt the weight of those expectations.

For much of my life, I’ve been called “Debbie’s daughter” more than my own name.

Calling Tower by Josh Leone