What Began in a Tent
How an unhealed wound echoes through Scripture, and how Jesus finally steps into it
Some stories in the Bible begin with catastrophe, move through generations of pain, and only make sense when Jesus steps into them. Today’s reading follows one of those long, uncomfortable threads. From a tent in Genesis to a surprising moment of grace in the Gospels.
In Genesis 9, shortly after surviving the flood, Noah plants a vineyard, gets drunk, and ends up naked in his tent.
It’s awkward.
One of his sons, Ham, sees him in this vulnerable state and tells his brothers. The brothers respond by respectfully covering their father without looking, but the damage is done. When Noah wakes and realises what happened, he doesn’t curse Ham directly; he curses Ham’s son, Canaan.
In the ancient world, a father’s curse was no small thing. It wasn’t just words; it was the withdrawal of favour, of blessing, of identity. A curse from your father meant the loss of something essential. It was rejection at the deepest level. It lingered. It spread. It stuck to you and your children like smoke in your clothes.
Canaan is cursed, and with him, his descendants. His eldest son, Sidon, goes on to father a people. So many, in fact, that Sidon becomes the name of a nation. That nation, the Sidonians, appears again and again throughout the Bible.
In Judges 10, the Sidonians are among those who conquer and oppress the Israelites. The wound from Noah’s tent has festered. What began with a father cursing his son becomes a multi-generational conflict. A few centuries later, the descendants of Canaan are at war with the descendants of Noah.
Why are these nations at war? Because a father cursed a son in a tent.
Wounds always linger and spread.
If a father’s wound isn’t healed, it doesn’t just affect the one who received it; it affects everyone downstream. The pain leaks into systems, societies, and even stories. What started in a tent ends up written in the pages of history.
