close

Bible

New Book by Sarojini Nadar in the Routledge Series “Rape Culture, Religion and the Bible”

by Johanna Stiebert on

Sarojini Nadar is a long-time supporter of the Shiloh Project. Her important new book is available from this Wednesday and ready for pre-order right now (see here). The book’s title, Gender, Genocide, Gaza and the Book of Esther: Engaging Texts of Terrorism (Routledge 2025) already points to its acute timeliness.

Tell us about yourself, Sarojini.

I’m a feminist scholar of religion based in South Africa, working at the intersections of gender, race, and religion. I hold the Desmond Tutu South African Research Chair (SARChI) in Religion and Social Justice, at the University of the Western Cape. My work is shaped by the historical legacies of apartheid and Indian colonial indentured labour. It is grounded in a decolonial feminist approach that interrogates how systems of power—colonial, patriarchal, racial, and religious—intersect. Much of my scholarship focuses on how religious beliefs and sacred texts are implicated in both the legitimation of systemic violence, and in movements of resistance.

How did this book come about, and how does it relate to your broader work?

The initial research intention for the book was to conduct an intersectional feminist analysis of sexual violence in the Book of Esther—particularly in relation to the harem as a space of imperial power and sexual exploitation. I was interested in how beauty, silence, and submission function as survival strategies for women within oppressive contexts.

But while I was contemplating the book proposal, in October 2023, everything shifted. A full-scale genocidal assault on Gaza was underway. Then, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu invoked a chilling biblical command in a public speech justifying the invasion of Gaza: “You must remember what Amalek has done to you—and we remember.” Suddenly, the book of Esther took on an urgent, horrifying resonance. Amalek is not only a figure in Deuteronomy or 1 Samuel; he is also in Esther. Haman—the book’s primary antagonist—is a descendant of Agag, the Amalekite king. The ancient enemy of Israel, whose complete annihilation is divinely commanded when the Israelites enter the so-called Promised Land, is embedded in the book of Esther!

When South Africa brought its genocide case against Israel before the International Court of Justice in January 2024, it cited several biblical references used by Israeli officials, arguing that they revealed genocidal intent—framing Palestinians as Amalekites to be wiped out. Since then, the United Nations, Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, and other global organisations have echoed this analysis. This was not just retaliation. These were acts of genocide.

And so the focus of the book began to shift. Or perhaps more accurately, it began to expand. From the harem to the herem. What had started as a feminist reading of sexual violence in the harem could no longer ignore the parallel structure of ethnic violence in the herem. Herem, refers to a form of sacred ban or divine command that designates certain enemies for destruction, effectively setting them apart as sacred, and as “devoted to destruction.”

My earlier readings of Esther were profoundly shaped by the pioneering work of Phyllis Trible, whose book, ‘Texts of Terror’ invited us to read the Bible with feminist suspicion—to notice the sexual violence hidden in plain sight, and to lament what the text will not, and did not. Trible taught us to attend to the silences, to read against the grain, and to grieve the unnamed and the unremembered. But as a decolonial feminist scholar shaped by intersectional ethics, I read for more than gendered violence. I read for empire. I read for ethnic terror. I read for how sacred texts encode and sacralise violence—across registers of gender, race, and power. The subjugation of women’s bodies and the annihilation of ethnic others are entangled in what I call “sacred economies of violence.”

Sacred economies of violence is a conceptual framework I developed for the book, by drawing on Patricia Hill Collins’ matrices of domination, Pierre Bourdieu’s notion of the political economy of religion, and David Chidester’s expansion of Bourdieu’s idea into the political economy of the sacred. It describes an interlocking system in which violence functions as a currency—authorised through sacred sanction—to uphold patriarchal, racialised, and religious hierarchies. Within this economy, religion does not merely reflect existing structures of power; it actively legitimises and perpetuates them, embedding violence into the symbolic and material fabric of society. In the book, I trace how the book of Esther participates in these sacred economies of violence.

What are the key arguments of your book?

This book contends that in the book of Esther the two sites of violence—harem and herem—are not mutually exclusive. They are co-constitutive. I argue that the book of Esther is a politically and theologically charged narrative that legitimises violence by those who deem themselves “divinely chosen.”  Building on Achille Mbembe’s theory of necropolitics, I propose the framework of gendered theological necropolitics to analyse how the narrative constructs hierarchies of life and death. The text signals whose lives are valued and whose deaths are acceptable, all through the intersecting lenses of gender and ethnicity.

Crucially, I argue that these dynamics are not frozen in the past but are reactivated in our present moment—particularly in how the text is interpreted and mobilised in political discourse today. Hence, the book also focuses on how this ancient text is read and used far beyond the academy—in sermons, speeches, blogposts, and everyday religious practice. These “afterlives” of scripture are central to how texts function in the world.

What do you hope readers will take from this book?

I hope readers develop a sharper critical awareness of how sacred texts and their receptions can participate in the legitimation of violence—sometimes through overt endorsement, other times through subtle theological or narrative cues. The assumption that biblical texts are neutral or benign must be challenged. My goal is to expose how these texts continue to shape moral and political imaginaries in deeply consequential ways.

I also hope to prompt a broader conversation among biblical scholars about the political and pastoral uses of scripture in our time. Esther is a living text with potent—and often dangerous—afterlives. The widely quoted phrase “for such a time as this” is frequently used to inspire women’s empowerment, but in contexts like Gaza, it has also been weaponised to justify ethnic violence. What does “such a time” mean when it becomes a rallying cry for war?

Ultimately, I hope the book models a method of reading that is both ethically accountable and politically alert—one that refuses the comforts of simplicity, and instead embraces complexity in the service of justice.

What insight does the book provide into the relationship between religion and public life?

One of the central claims of this book—and indeed, of my broader scholarly work—is that religion does not reside neatly within private belief or institutional ritual. It is deeply entangled with public life, shaping social norms and popular moral discourse. This entanglement becomes particularly visible when we examine how sacred texts are interpreted and mobilised in everyday and political contexts.

The book of Esther offers a compelling case study for how normalisation of violence and theological instrumentalisation are perpetuated through popular Christian interpretations, where the text is often read through redemptive lenses that obscure its imperial and ethnic violence. This is why I take seriously both scholarly and popular religious interpretations. Non-academic readings from general public life, are central to understanding how sacred texts structure lived realities and legitimise or contest power. Popular media and discourse are therefore, legitimate and necessary sites of scholarly inquiry for those of us committed to tracing the effects of sacred texts in the world.

It is no accident, for example, that in 2024 a Donald Trump-aligned initiative emerged in the United States under the name Project Esther. This campaign—promoted by the Heritage Foundation as a “National Strategy to Combat Antisemitism”—appropriates the figure of Esther for Christian nationalist ends. As the Jewish Voice for Peace Academic Advisory Council has revealed, Project Esther in fact weaponises antisemitic conspiracy theories under the guise of Jewish protection, while disproportionately targeting Palestinians, Arabs, Muslims, and immigrants. It seeks to dismantle the broader Palestine solidarity movement, casting dissenting voices as threats to divine or national order. In this context, the figure of Esther becomes a rhetorical shield for repression—her story is invoked to sanctify silencing and justify surveillance.

This is precisely why intersectional feminist biblical scholars must interrogate both academic and popular uses of scripture. The question is not only what a text says, but what it is made to do in the world. When religious stories are used to authorise violence or shut down critique, our task is to expose and challenge those uses, while offering more just and accountable ways of reading.

Give us one quotation from the book that you think will make a reader go and read the rest.

This is an excerpt from Chapter 5:

“Initially portrayed as vulnerable, Esther strategically leverages her gendered position to gain access to power. Once she achieves that power, the narrative shifts towards an aggressive assertion of ethnic dominance. The extermination of Haman and his supporters, along with the deaths of 75,000 “others,” is rationalised through Esther’s Jewish identity, reflecting the historical violence inflicted upon Israel’s enemies within the framework of herem. Thus, the narrative complicates the portrayal of Esther as solely a victim; she operates within a structure of divine chosen-ness that legitimises her violent actions. Her body becomes a battleground for both imperial desire and divine selection, as she is first chosen for the king’s harem and later for God’s herem.”

read more

A Response to a Response to a Response… Yep, It’s Marriage Again!

by Johanna Stiebert on
Wedding Rings

[Call out to podcast lovers like me: there’s a great new podcast, very much relevant to this post, called “Rigour and Flow” with two women – Tamanda Walker and Aiwan Obinyan – talking same-sex love, religion and power. Highly recommended.]

I recognise the irony of writing a piece (for ViaMedia) that begins with commenting on the wordiness of the Church of England discussions on Christian marriage, which then generates more wordiness in the form of comments and responses (e.g. by Martin Davie), and now yet more wordiness from me.

I wish the full force of Church of England outrage was reserved for and channelled towards sexual abuse in its midst[1] and none towards consenting, same-sex-loving adults seeking marriage; but we are where we are. And, with ever more powerful and empowered Christian ideologies targeting and endangering LGBTQ+ persons, as well as other vulnerable members of the human family, I’m not ready to let this one go.

At the outset…

I am not Anglican and do not have a personal stake in the Church of England debate.[2] For me, equality and inclusion of LGBTQ+ persons is about human rights and justice.

As a married, cis and straight woman, I see no serious “threat” to marriages like mine – though such threat is regularly invoked. Permitting same-sex marriage is neither erasing nor denigrating man-woman marriage. (An analogy: when I had my second child, I did not come to love my first child less. Inclusion and love are not zero-sum.)

So, I am not seeking to undo or challenge marriages that conform to the current definition of the Church of England. Instead, I want to point out why I (and I am hardly alone in this)[3] see inclusion of same-sex marriage as the right way to go.

I am, by profession, a biblical scholar (with specialisation in Hebrew Bible) and I focus the bulk of my response – in the ViaMedia piece and here – on biblical texts. In doing so, I try to be open about the things that are claimed about, rather than clear in, biblical texts. The Bible is not as “plain” or “clear” as is sometimes asserted.[4] It also contains some laws and statements which, read as “plain” or “clear,” should be rejected.[5] Occasionally, I point to what is apparently clear in the biblical text – which is sometimes ignored by commentators when it does not fit their marriage ideology.[6]

Just like those biblical interpreters who disagree with me, I am coming to biblical texts with my own experiences, limitations, and ideologies (some conscious, most not conscious).[7] All of us are working with a complex, ancient collection of texts – texts in a language of which there are no native speakers; texts that have been copied and edited through the ages; texts that leave much unexplained; texts of which we don’t know the original contexts and audiences.

One ideology I consciously hold, is that I find the discriminatory treatment of LGBTQ+ persons because of their identity and/or sexuality, unjust and wrong. Yes, there are certainly LGBTQ+ persons who have acted in abusive and shocking ways – just as there are women, and Black persons, and immigrants, who have acted in abusive and shocking ways. I have no problem acknowledging that and I have no problem resisting and rejecting such abuse. Abuses of power, which include rape, are crimes, no matter the protected characteristics of either abuser or abused. It is, however, the case that persons who hold more power commit more abuses of power, while persons with less power are disproportionately vulnerable to abuse. Unsurprisingly, therefore, straight, rich men, who are well represented at the top of the power hierarchy, are far more often abusers than abused, while women, including trans women, are far more likely to be victims than perpetrators of multiple kinds of abuses, including sexual violation. Tackling abuses of power and tackling discrimination against systemically and otherwise vulnerable demographics is vital – until it is eliminated.

This piece is focused primarily on same-sex-loving persons, the demographic most often in the crosshairs of ongoing discussions on Christian marriage. I address primarily Martin Davie’s response to my earlier piece. Other groups of people, notably the trans community, are also maligned by some Christian communities.[8] This, too, is reprehensible.

The Nitty-Gritty Response Bit

The first point in my ViaMedia piece is that what is there about marriage in the Bible has to be pieced together. There is limited detail; in the Hebrew Bible there is not even a word that captures English “marriage;” instead, there are many references to men “taking” or “going in to” women. There are multiple kinds of what might be called marriage – including polygyny, and rape.[9] There is nothing about any marriageable age; little about wedding ceremonies, and contradictory information about whether only endogamy is permissible.

Martin Davie counters with “the Bible contains a large amount of material about marriage and what it says about marriage is clear.” Like complementarian thinkers, Davie draws most on Genesis 2:18-25, which for him constitutes “a description of how God instituted marriage.” Moreover, “read in the context of the preceding account of God’s creation of human beings in Genesis 1: 26-28,” these verses for him show marriage to have six characteristics: 1) it is an exclusive relationship between one man and one woman; 2) it is a relationship outside the immediate family circle; 3) it is a relationship that has to be freely chosen; 4) It is a sexual relationship; 5) it is a permanent relationship; 6) it is a relationship that is ordered towards procreation. Davie then claims that “in the rest of the Bible marriage is then understood in terms of these six characteristics and forms of marital relationship that do not conform to them, such as polygamy or marriages within the immediate family circle, and all forms of sexual activity outside marriage, are seen as contrary to the will of God.”

This is a familiar argument but one that imposes a distinctive ideology.[10] The myths of Genesis 1–2 describe creation. Yes, there is in the second creation story just one man and one woman, which makes exclusiveness a no-brainer in this instance (characteristic 1). Orientation towards sex and procreation (characteristics 4 and 6) are defensible. Permanence (characteristic 6) could be extrapolated from the becoming of one flesh. I find it rather harder, however, to see free choice (characteristic 3) as self-evident, or a relationship outside of the immediate family circle (characteristic 2). Arguably, Eve is Adam’s daughter, or sister (some have argued, mother).[11] Also unclear is how “the rest of the Bible” follows through on these six characteristics. There are in the Bible many instances of polygyny, and some of close-kin marriage; there are laws pertaining to divorce, yet without any explicit negative commentary. So, how is it clear that these are “contrary to the will of God”? The six characteristics seem to have been determined as constituting the rules of marriage at some later point – they are not clearly set out in either Genesis 1–2 or elsewhere in the Bible. At best they can be pieced together from multiple places – but other marriage “models” could also be constructed.[12]

I contend that the idea that Genesis 2–3 is “about marriage” – rather than a myth about creation, or human self-awareness, or relationship with God and other humans, or about decision-making and learning about consequence – is imposed on the story, as are at least some of the six characteristics and also the notion that all other human unions are contrary to the will of God.

Some revered biblical figures are in very different unions to marriage as characterised by Davie. Abra(ha)m enters into a covenant with God (Genesis 17) and is raised up as a man of faith in the New Testament (e.g. Romans 4) – yet he is, apparently, married to his half-sister (Genesis 20:12), and procreates also with her slave, Hagar (Genesis 16:4; Galatians 4:21-31). There is no overt criticism of Abra(ha)m for these infringements of characteristics 1,2,5 and probably, 3[13] and hence, no indication of his acting contrary to the will of God.

Moses, too, seems to have found God’s favour – though he loses it for striking the rock rather than speaking to it (Numbers 20:7-12). He seems to have one wife, Zipporah, whom he then sends away together with their two sons (Exodus 18:2-3), which incurs no divine criticism. Later he appears to have another (unnamed Cushite) wife – and God sides with Moses about this wife in a conflict with Miriam and Aaron (Numbers 12). The suggestion here is that if these are marriages, they are not exclusive or permanent – yet they incur no divine disapproval.

David is a man after God’s own heart (1 Samuel 13:14), but “takes” Bathsheba who is married to another man (2 Samuel 11) and has multiple wives (e.g. 2 Samuel 5:13). Again, while David is rebuked for taking Bathsheba and having her husband Uriah killed, there is no overt criticism of his multiple marriages, or of his marriage to Bathsheba following punishment. David and Bathsheba’s son, Jedidiah or Solomon, goes on to become king after David – and he also has many wives, of whom the foreign ones are identified as a problem (1 Kings 11:1-4). Having multiple wives per se is not identified as “contrary to the will of God.”

The idea that marriage between Israelites and non-Israelites is undesirable, even prohibited is in evidence in several Bible passages (alongside 1 Kings 11:1-4) – most clearly so in Ezra 10 and Nehemiah 13. These biblical passages are clear; in certain historical settings and, up until today (in some Christian nationalist or white supremacist spaces, for instance) inter-ethnic marriage is also rejected. Thankfully, however, certainly in the Church of England, there is little or no overt condemnation of inter-ethnic marriage for all the biblical clarity on the matter. Yet same-sex marriage is widely condemned.

So, in the Bible inter-ethnic marriage is at least sometimes rejected in a far more clear and insistent way than same-sex bonding. The bond between David and Jonathan, for example, is cast in covenantal terms (1 Samuel 20:16, 23) and is praised by David as “passing the love of women” (2 Samuel 1:26). The attachment of Ruth to Naomi is also much more overt than any man-woman bond in the Bible. I am undecided if either homosocial bond has erotic dimensions – though some commentators, have made a compelling case for such.[14] In any case, it remains defensible that multiple parts of the Bible firmly reject inter-ethnic marriage while others affirm strong homosocial bonding, or friendship between same-sex individuals. If we go entirely by what the Bible clearly says, I would thus expect more Christians to make the case for rejecting inter-ethnic marriage. If they did so, however, I would be entirely comfortable calling that straight-up racist – and I am glad that the Church of England is not pushing for following the plain meaning of such biblical texts. If friendship is most central to the core of marriage – then, based on some biblical texts (e.g. those describing the attachment between Ruth and Naomi, Jonathan and David) I see no reason to insist on marriage only between members of different biological sexes.

Strikingly, I see far more willingness – in the Church of England and more widely among more conservative Christian groups – to be lenient where shortfalls concerning some of the other six characteristics are concerned than where characteristic 1 is concerned. Sure (and this is a good thing!), there is consistent insistence on not violating characteristics 2 and 3 – about not incurring incest or forced marriage. (Both also happen to violate UK law, whereas same-sex marriage does not.) Still, if a man and woman about to marry have had sex prior to marriage – with each other, or someone else, or if there is an infidelity in the course of a marriage, or if a marriage becomes sex-less, or if a marriage ends in divorce and, perhaps, re-marriage, or if a married couple chooses not to have children, or does not have children for other, non-chosen, reasons… with all of such cases there tends to be far more accommodation than I see with that first characteristic – the one man and one woman bit. I do think this is something of a fixation. And, I suspect, what is at the root of this fixation is outright homophobia – just as historical Christian justifications of apartheid and enslavement are about outright racism.

There is strong and disturbing evidence for disproportionate fixation on this one characteristic in the large and powerful lobby of Christians in the USA, who are vocal in condemning LGBTQ+ persons and/or all sexual contact between persons of the same sex, inclusive of loving and exclusive, monogamous, long-term relationships between consenting adults, while enthusiastically supporting a President who has fallen well short of at least two of the six characteristics of marriage and who has also bragged about sexual harassment, been found liable for sexual abuse and defamation in a court of law (E. Jean Carroll v Donald J. Trump), and been plausibly accused of yet more charges of rape and sexual assault. I find that shocking.

My second point in the ViaMedia piece is a statement of fact: in the Hebrew Bible unions of men and women are often depicted in violent terms.[15] I have co-authored a book on this topic, providing ample examples (Afzal and Stiebert, 2024). My aim in pointing this out is not to recommend or prescribe violence but to counter the widespread idealisation of marriage that I see derived from the Bible – with the six characteristics providing a clear example of such an idealisation. I am critiquing the claim that the characterisation reflects an accurate or clear picture of marriage in the Bible.

Davie disagrees with the examples I give that link marriage and violence; these examples include Deuteronomy 21:10-14 and Numbers 5. Davie says regarding Deuteronomy 21: “Although it is often claimed that Deuteronomy 21:10-14 sanctions the rape of female prisoners of war, this is not what the text itself says. In the words of Chris Wright, what Deuteronomy says is that: ‘She is not to be raped or enslaved as a concubine, but is to be accorded the full status of a wife (vv.11, 13). The instruction in Hebrew is quite clear that only marriage is intended.”

I invite readers to look up this passage and to decide for themselves whether they are happy for this passage to furnish recommendations for marriage. Here (and I am paraphrasing and citing the NRSV translation), a scenario is described in which God has handed the people he addresses victory over their enemies. It states, if a man sees “among the captives a beautiful woman whom [he] desire[s] and want[s] to marry” then he can bring her to his house. She must shave her head, pare her nails, and discard her captive’s garb. Then she is to remain in the man’s house for one month, mourning her parents, after which the man “may go in to her and be her husband.” If he is not satisfied with her, he can send her away. There is one restriction: he cannot sell her for money because he has “dishonoured” her.

This is what Davie is happy to go along with calling a marriage where the woman has “the full status of a wife.” He sees no indication of rape, or enslavement, or secondary status here. I see violence. The context is battle. The woman has experienced war – probably, her home, family, community, have been destroyed. At any rate, she has been separated from them; she mourns her parents. I find it highly unlikely that there is anything “freely chosen” here on the part of the woman. The man does choose –based on finding the captive woman “beautiful.” It is also not clear if this sexual union is exclusive – who knows if the man or the woman is or was already married? (Possibly, the waiting period of one month is to establish whether the woman is pregnant.) There is sex – the man “may go in to her” – but procreative intent (characteristic 6) is not stated, and the union is certainly not envisaged as necessarily permanent, because the man can send the woman away if he becomes dissatisfied.

Unlike Wright and Davie, I find this horrific.[16] To me, if this can be dignified with the word “marriage” at all, then this is a rape marriage. One telling sign of this is the acknowledgement that the man has “dishonoured” the woman – which is why he cannot sell her. The word for “dishonoured” is from the Hebrew root ‘-n-h which can pertain to rape (e.g. Genesis 34:2 and 2 Samuel 13:14). I see transparent violence in this legal text. I’d call what I read here sexual enslavement. I interpret Davie to be apologising for, or sanitising this text because it is in the Bible and depicted as God’s word. I consider this a violent and horrifying text that should not furnish any recommendations. Really… does “everything go” as long as it is one man and one woman? Even rape?!

I am also shocked by other biblical passages where divine commands permit mass slaughter and rape “marriage” – such as Numbers 31.[17] I think we could do with more shock and rejection of such biblical passages – instead of claiming that marriage in the Bible is clearly about free choice and that all that is depicted as divine will is desirable. I’m all for free choice, consent and mutual fulfilment – be that between members of the same or different sexes. I am entirely against sexual enslavement and rape – and if parts of the Bible condone such, this needs to be challenged. Surely, mine is not a subversive call.

Davie also disagrees with me about Numbers 5, pointing out that “Jacob Milgrom has argued, the whole point of the legislation in Numbers 5:12-31 was not to humiliate a wife but to protect her in the case of an unjust accusation.” I have every respect for Jacob Milgrom. It is, however, the case that the text of Numbers 5 has been interpreted in a variety of ways, as I discuss much more fully elsewhere.[18] Again, Davie, so it strikes me, is determined to see marriage and the Bible in a particular way – so much so that he unsees the horror and rape of Deuteronomy 21 and also the violence of Numbers 5. Read at face value, Numbers 5 describes in great detail that a man who has no proof for suspicion of his wife’s infidelity can take her to the priest at the tabernacle and have her subjected to a complex ritual. It seems not unlikely to me that if the ritual was conducted as described, it would have been humiliating and distressing for the woman. Quite how the ritual is protective of the wife is far from explicit. It takes some contortion to read Numbers 5 in such a way. I am aware such a case has been made but it is not self-evident.

Again, I see Davie’s interpretation, and choice of commentators, to be guided by his pre-determined ideology, according to which marriage looks a particular way. He imposes an ideology of “what biblical marriage looks like” (namely, the six characteristics), and sifts out or deems oppositional to God’s will (even in the absence of the biblical text claiming such) what conflicts with this ideology. Other texts (e.g. Deuteronomy 21 and Numbers 5) are read in ways that harmonise (i.e. as non-violent and protective) against the most straightforward reading.

Davie writes that I fail “to show that we actually possess new knowledge ‘about the nuances of human gender and sexuality.’” He continues, “All that we know today is what we have always known, namely that God’s creative activity has resulted in the existence of two sexes, male and female, that are designed to engage in a form of sexual activity leading to the procreation of children and that God has ordained marriage to be the social institution within which sexual activity and procreation should take place.” Ok, yes, so procreation through the generations has required fertile men to have sex with fertile women. This remains how the majority of humans came to be. But it is not difficult to find plenty of research and scientific evidence for a much more complicated reality than straightforward male/female binary.[19] Chromosomal variety is considerable; intersex is real; sexual orientation has been explored in its rich variety… (And all this is quite aside from humans being far more rich, complex and remarkable than “designed” for marriage or procreation.)

Davie is firm first, that “the Christian tradition has been clear for the entire history of the Church that marriage has been ordained by God to be between one man and one woman” and second, that same-sex sexual relationships are sinful. He maintains that given that no new evidence has emerged to call this position into question “why is the idea of same-sex marriage even being discussed in the Church of England?” He responds to this with, “The answer of course, is that we now live in a society shaped by the twin convictions that (a) human beings should be free to determine for themselves how they should live and (b) that sexual activity is necessary for human fulfilment and as is always the case Christians are being tempted to follow the world’s lead even when this is contrary to the revealed will of God. However, as Paul insists in Romans 12:2 this is a temptation which Christians must resist: ‘Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may prove what Is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.’”

Again, all sorts of things have in the long history of “the Christian tradition” (which has never actually been univocal)[20] allegedly been “clear.” Some of these include justification of antisemitism (or Judeophobia) and enslavement – both right from the pages of the New Testament. And yes, evidence has emerged to call “this position” (that is, insistence on marriage being only, ever and always between one man and one woman) into question, which is why there is such vigorous discussion in the Church of England and in many other communities in the first place. The reason same-sex marriage is being discussed is because there is a case to be made that rejection of same-sex marriage and condemnation of homosexuality constitute violations of human rights – just as is now acknowledged of condemning inter-ethnic marriage, and just as it is now accepted (and rightly so!) that antisemitism and enslavement, for all their long Christian heritage, are wrong and inhumane and unjust.

Davie says, “While it is right to say that Christians should speak up for vulnerable members of the human family that can only involve speaking out in favour of same-sex marriages and same-sex sexual relationships in general if these things are in accordance with the will of God. As I have previously argued, Stiebert offers no good reasons for thinking that this is the case.” I concede that I do not know “the will of God.” Davie seems very sure that he does. But actually, when it comes to same-sex affection, love, relationships, or sexual attraction, the Bible or Jesus has little (if anything) to say on the topic. Preoccupation with same-sex matters is far less in evidence on the pages of the Bible than in our own setting. Homophobia and aversion to same-sex marriage is more culturally than biblically driven.

Ultimately, the difference between Davie and me is not centred in the Bible. The main difference is that I believe there are loving, fulfilling, profound and enriching relationships between devout same-sex-loving Church of England persons and that there is no compelling case to be derived from the Bible for those among them who want to be married in church not to be married in church. Davie, I suspect, is unable or unwilling to accept any sexual unions between same-sex-loving Christians. These are in his estimation “sinful” no matter what. I also get the impression – though I concede I may be wrong – that for Davie homosexuality is more sinful than violation of some of the other characteristics of marriage he identifies. Many Christians seem much more accommodating regarding absolute exclusivism or permanence of marriage, sometimes permitting divorce, or cohabitation (albeit while considering these less-than-ideal), while being entirely rigid concerning any and all accommodations of same-sex love.

I suppose I am on the side of love here. Not so much because, as Davie suggests, there is, or I have, a tendency to believe that “human beings should be free to determine for themselves how they should live” (which gets into the territory of implying that the alternative to sticking to his brand of Christian rules is a case of “anything goes/if it feels right, it’s right”) or because I hold “that sexual activity is necessary for human fulfilment.” We can agree that fulfilment need not necessitate sex and that “anything goes” is not an option. I have been very firm throughout in my insistence on consent – possibly, more so than Davie, who seems happy to accept the scenarios of Deuteronomy 21 and Numbers 5 as acceptable in the envelope of “marriage.” I suppose when Davie cites Romans 12:2 (“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may prove what Is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect”) I see in this verse other possibilities of renewal and transformation. The passage in Romans continues with the image of one body with many members, with not all having the same function, with different gifts and roles (12:3-8). For me that could speak to acceptance of different ways of loving – by no means all of these involving sex but certainly some that do. From there the Romans passage goes on to proclaim genuine love (12:9) and harmony and peaceable living (12:16-18). This is a beautiful passage (and not all biblical passages are) and not one where I see judging and condemning others for loving differently from the way I love.

After the Long, the Short(er) of It

The Bible is a rich and diverse collection, a library of texts. It mentions a variety of relationships, some of which could be compatible with how the word “marriage” is used in the present-day UK; others should make us balk, on account of describing something akin to sexual enslavement. In the Hebrew Bible there is no word that approximates either “marriage” or “sexual enslavement.”

Nowadays, free choice and a bond of friendship are presumed to be at the heart of a good marriage, which is, ideally, a relationship between two persons where each partner feels supported and fulfilled and enriched by the other – psychologically, emotionally, socially, spiritually, practically, sexually – so both can be their best selves. Maybe strong marriages of the distant past were like this, too; but in the Bible there is little said about such marriages. There is one anomalous text, Song of Songs, which describes strong erotic attachment between two people – but we know little about them, and they seem not to be married (because they are chasing each other around, sometimes furtively, with watchmen and family members disapproving of their association, all of which would be surprising in the context of a formalised marriage). Elsewhere in the Bible, there is plenty of mention of men taking women, sometimes with force, and of sex resulting in offspring. Close bonds – rarely described – can be between members of the same sex – notably, David and Jonathan and Ruth and Naomi.

In current times there is a high degree of preoccupation that centres on whether marriage should be between a man and a woman only, or whether marriage can also be between two members of the same sex. Traditionalists emphasise Genesis 1–3: that when humans were created it was to procreate (Genesis 1:27-28), and that the apt companion for the first man is a woman; the first woman is created by God for the man. From these early chapters has arisen a theology of exclusive, monogamous, permanent, heterosexual union, transpiring in children. Other kinds of biblical marriage – polygyny, rape and abduction marriage – are more often ignored or explained away as later, deficient social forms. Genesis 2–3 is prioritised and idealised. The parts of the Genesis story that sit less easily with contemporary theology – such as the implication that Eve is a close relative of Adam – tend to be obscured. There is careful selection of what is read literally (“one woman for one man”) and what is not (the close kinship between Adam and Eve and the inevitability of first-degree incest if the story of Adam, Eve and their offspring is accepted literally). Moreover, clear indication of close homosocial bonding (e.g. between David and Jonathan, which even uses covenant language) is – by virtue of the ideological decision that sex can only be within marriage and marriage can only be between one man and one woman – determined to be entirely non-sexual. The theology, consequently, drives the interpretation.

Other things the Bible contains about marriage that also conflict with the dominant conservative ideology – be this mention of close-kin marriages, polygyny, or strict endogamy, for instance – are also pretty much ignored, or downplayed. The bulk of vitriol is reserved for same-sex marriage.

Scientific findings, which show that biological sex is more complicated than a straightforward binary and that gender and sexuality are spectral and nuanced, and that same-sex attraction is a widespread minority orientation, are also rejected when they conflict with this theology.

The Bible is highly diverse in content and lends itself to multiple interpretations. In many forms of Judaism this multiplicity is praised and embraced (e.g. the notion that Torah has seventy faces – that is, that it can be read in a rich variety of ways, yielding meaning through time in diverse ways). The Bible contains passages that authorise taking captives for sex (Numbers 31 and Deuteronomy 21) and that prescribe the casting out of “foreign” wives (Ezra 10 and Nehemiah 13). The Bible has been used to justify apartheid, enslavement and genocide. Its plain meaning, especially when read selectively (i.e. proof-texting) can be harmful. But it does not have to be, if it is read with determination to do good, to celebrate the natural world and the human diversity and capacity to love that is part of it.

If a relationship is between two who can give informed consent and if that relationship is positive for the free development and fulfilment of both, it is far more likely to yield good things – whether the two are of the same or different sexes. Any children raised in such a relationship, and any other lives touched by two people supporting, nurturing and fulfilling each other, are likely to be stronger, healthier, happier. I believe this to be true of same- and different-sex relationships. I believe I have seen this in action.

I side with love. Love is beautifully characterised in 1 Corinthians 13 – as patient, kind, enduring, and rejoicing in truth. All who have loved, know that when we love we are our best selves. Loving, we feel deepest joy and fulfilment; loving, we are at our most vulnerable. Love can glow in many dynamics, often in entirely non-sexual ones – between friends, siblings, a parent and child, a teacher and student. When it finds sexual expression, love can feel overwhelming. It is no accident or surprise that Song of Songs – describing strong erotic feeling – is held to be a metaphor for the love between God and Israel, or Jesus and the Church, or the mystic’s union with the divine.[21] Love that has sexual expression can, for devout persons, be spiritual in signification and can compel them to want to formalise this, publicly, and before God, in marriage.[22] This is true of same-sex as of opposite-sex couples. Where there is love, we can and should celebrate it – because patient, kind, enduring, truth-seeking is what we need most.

And why can this not be called “marriage”? The word already covers a wide range of social institutions – close-kin, inter-ethnic, inter-faith, arranged, egalitarian and complementarian marriages, for instance. While “marriage” seems to be something describing unions, usually of family building, that exist in most human societies, it looks different from place to place, and it has evolved and been adapted over time. Similarly, the Bible shows evidence of change and adaptation over time. (In the ViaMedia piece I give the example of a significant change from intergenerational punishment to personal responsibility. Other changes are the laws of enslavement – of which there are three, non-identical sets, with the subsequent change that enslavement is now prohibited.)

There seems little rationale for insistence on limiting a marriage to only one man and one woman. In UK law, of course, marriage is already inclusive of same-sex marriage. There are already plenty of same-sex couples, many raising children, too. And the world has not collapsed, and man-woman marriages have not ceased to exist or been threatened. It seems time for the Church of England to take the step. In doing so, it will not change marriage for those who like marriage the way Davie describes and characterises it; instead, it will give space to more couples who love and feel completed by another.

In a nutshell

Acts and impulses of resistance to same-sex love and marriage are products of homophobia, not the Bible. (And that’s the last word on the matter from me. For now at least.)

Works Cited

Afzal, Saima and Johanna Stiebert. 2024. Marriage, Bible, Violence: Intersections and Impacts. Abingdon, OX: Routledge.

Bechtel, L. M. 1995. “Genesis 2.4b–3.24: A Myth about Human Maturation.” Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 67: 3–26.

Blyth, Caroline and Prior McRae. 2018. ‘“Death by a Thousand Paper Cuts’: Transphobia, Symbolic Violence, and Conservative Christian Discourse,” pp.111–133, in Caroline Blyth, Emily Colgan, and Katie B. Edwards (eds.), Rape Culture, Gender Violence, and Religion: Interdisciplinary Perspectives (Religion and Radicalism). Cham, Switzerland: Palgrave Macmillan.

Clines, David J. A. 1995. Interested Parties: The Ideology of Writers and Readers of the Hebrew Bible. (JSOTSup 205; Gender, Culture, Theory 1). Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press.

Holben, L. R. 1999. What Christians Think about Homosexuality: Six Representative Viewpoints. BIBAL Press.

Horner, Tom. 1978. Jonathan Loved David: Homosexuality in Biblical Times. Philadelphia: Westminster Press.

Hunter, Alastair G. 2011. “Marriage in the Old Testament.” See here: https://shilohproject.blog/marriage-in-the-hebrew-bible/

Kahn-Harris, Deborah. 2023. Polyamory and Reading the Book of Ruth. Pennsylvania, PA: Lexington Press.

Piper, John and Wayne Grudem (eds.). 2006 [1991]. Recovering Biblical Manhood & Womanhood: A Response to Evangelical Feminism. Crossway. Available online: https://document.desiringgod.org/recovering-biblical-manhood-and-womanhood-en.pdf?ts=1471470614.

Rey, Monica I. 2016. “Reexamination of the Foreign Female Captive: Deuteronomy 21:10–14 as a Case of Genocidal Rape,” Journal of Feminist Studies in Religion 32/1: 37–53.DOI:10.2979/jfemistudreli.32.1.04

Stiebert, Johanna. 2002. The Social Construction of Shame: The Prophetic Contribution. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press.

Stiebert, Johanna. 2019. “Divinely Sanctioned Violence Against Women: Biblical Marriage and the Example of the Sotah of Numbers 5.” The Bible and Critical Theory 15/2: 84–108.

Stiebert, Johanna. 2021. “Religion and Sexual Violence,” pp.339–350, in Caroline Starkey and Emma Tomalin (eds.), The Routledge Handbook of Religion, Gender and Society. London: Routledge.

Stiebert, Johanna. 2023. “The Pop of Cherries and Weasels: Virgins, Violence and the Bible,” pp.34–49, in Helen Paynter and Michael Spalione (eds.), Global Perspectives on Bible and Violence. Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix Press.

Stiebert, Johanna. 2024. “Eve and Psychoanalytic Approaches,” pp.411–423, in Caroline Blyth and Emily Colgan (eds.), The Routledge Companion to Eve. London and New York: Routledge.

Stiebert, Johanna (ed.). 2025. Abuse in World Religions: Articulating the Problem. Volume 1. Abingdon, OX: Routledge.

Stiebert, Johanna (ed.). 2025. Abuse in World Religions: Towards Solutions. Volume 2. Abingdon, OX: Routledge.

Washington, Harold C. 1998. “‘Lest He Die in the Battle and Another Man Take Her’: Violence and the Construction of Gender in the Laws of Deuteronomy 20–22,”, pp.185–213, in Victor H. Matthews, Bernard M. Levinson, and Tikva Frymer-Kensky (eds.), Gender and Law in the Hebrew Bible and the Ancient Near East. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press.

notes

[1] In a recent interview with Laura Kuenssberg (see the Newscast podcast episode, released on 30 March 2025), former Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby took full responsibility for not following up on reports about John Smyth’s prolonged abuse of boys and young men. In this interview Welby explained that he had become utterly overwhelmed by the sheer scale of disclosures of abuse in churches. Tackling this deluge of abuse – historical and ongoing – by seeking the conviction of abusers and facilitating justice and healing for survivors and victims is where energies ought to go. Such abuses are not confined to church settings – they take place in religious communities other than Christian ones (see my two forthcoming edited volumes Abuse in World Religions) and in non-religious settings, too. Still, the Church of England is clearly in the midst of an abuse crisis.

[2] I have at different stages of my life attended an Anglican church and a synagogue. I consider myself deeply interested in religion but unable to confess to any religious tradition. I would call myself an agnostic or a ‘none’. I feel most drawn to Progressive Judaism. This tradition’s encouragement to wrestle with the text, to consider and even seek multiple interpretations, the acceptance of doubt, and the aim of working towards making the world better, all appeal.

[3] It is no revelation that there is no single unified Christian position or stance on homosexuality, let alone LGBTQ+ matters more widely. L. R. Holben is one author who sets out a spectrum of Christian outlooks, which ranges across six stages, from condemnation to affirmation and liberation (1999). See also the outputs of the Wijngaards Institute for Catholic Research on matters of sexuality.

[4] The Bible is a tapestry of texts, a collection from many times and places, reflecting a range of contexts and perspectives. This is not a controversial assessment. It is unsurprising – to me at least – that given that the Bible is a library rather than a book, it contains multiple and even contradictory expressions. To me, that goes some way to explaining why the Bible is so steadfastly popular: there is something for everyone in its pages. Certain conservative Christian thinkers are prone to claiming that the Bible is very clear and unambiguous. One example, freely available online, is by influential, evangelical authors John Piper and Wayne Grudem, in their edited volume defending complementarianism, Recovering Biblical Manhood and Womanhood. The editors speak of ‘the clarity of Scripture’ and the ‘plain meanings of Biblical texts’, which have become obscured by ‘hermeneutical oddities’ and ‘technical ingenuity’, which pose a ‘threat to Biblical authority’ and ‘accessibility of … meaning’ (2006: 89). Saima Afzal and I challenge this approach in our book on marriage and Bible (2024).

[5] Laws that prescribe stoning to death a disobedient son (Deuteronomy 21:20-21), or that require a rapist marry the woman he has raped (Deuteronomy 22:28-29) are just two examples of biblical passages that should not be obeyed. Following the ‘plain’ meaning would be cruel – not least, because of what we now know about child psychology and development and about rape and trauma.

[6] In a short book I have co-authored with Saima Afzal (2024), we point to examples of selective proof-texting where some biblical passages are deployed, and others ignored, to propel a particular kind of complementarian ideology of marriage.

[7] For a full discussion of the various meanings of ‘ideology’, including with reference to the Bible, and for a model on how I am using the term, see David J. A. Clines (1995: 9-25).

[8] Caroline Blyth and Prior McRae (2018) provide insight into how conservative Christianity harms and excludes trans humans.

[9] Polygyny refers to one man having multiple wives. Polygamy refers to one person having multiple spouses. In the Hebrew Bible only men have multiple (female) spouses. To give two examples of rape and marriage: first, the law in Deuteronomy 22:28-29 specifies that if a man ‘meets a virgin who is not engaged, and seizes her and lies with her, and they are caught in the act,’ then the man has to pay a fine to the woman’s father and take her as his wife, without possibility of divorce. The text specifies that the man has ‘violated her’ (from the root ‘-n-h, discussed below). Second, before and after Tamar is raped by her brother Amnon (2 Samuel 13), she appears to plead with him for marriage (13:13, 16). (Incidentally, this might imply that some forms of close-kin marriage – e.g. half-sibling marriage, possibly only in certain elite classes – was legal, pace characteristic 2.) It is shocking and distressing to contemplate this in the light of what clinical psychology research has taught us about rape and trauma, but these passages imply that marriage gives a raped woman some degree of protection and respectability and that marriage to one’s rapist is, therefore, preferable to the alternative – presumably, social isolation and no possibility of marriage. I have read that when Jesus speaks out against divorce, citing Genesis and “one flesh,” he does so, possibly, to protect women from men casually divorcing them and thereby leaving women vulnerable and destitute.

[10] As Clines argues, theology is a form of ideology (1995: 13).

[11] Psychoanalysts have had a field day with this story (see Stiebert 2024 for a summary). It is far from the case that all read this as a story of marriage. Lyn Bechtel (1995) for instance, reads the myth as a story of human maturation from childhood, to burgeoning self-awareness and independence. The emotion of shame has been identified by psychologists and social scientists as formative for self-conscious development (Stiebert…).

[12] Theologian and Bible scholar Alastair Hunter has written an accessible and comprehensive account on marriage in the Hebrew Bible, including on the language of covenant and marriage metaphor. For a long and shorter version, see here.

[13] Abraham is not exclusively with one woman; his primary wife is also his half-sister; Hagar is given to Abra(ha)m by his primary wife and Hagar’s free choice should, consequently, be disputed. The union with Hagar is not permanent, because she is evicted, together with Ishmael, her son by Abra(ha)m (Genesis 16–21). Permanence and exclusivity are also thrown into doubt by Abra(ha)m giving Sarai/Sarah to Pharaoh. Pharaoh admits he “took her for [his] wife” (Genesis 12:19).

[14] Tom Horner is an early commentator to make this case for David and Jonathan (1978). Deborah Kahn-Harris, meanwhile, explores Ruth, Naomi and Boaz as a polyamorous triad (2023).

[15] David J. A. Clines is particularly strong on this point. Clines argues that every account of sex between men and women in the Hebrew Bible implies violence. He is not saying there weren’t loving relationships in antiquity but that the language of man-woman sexual contact in the Hebrew Bible does not suggest mutuality. Martin Davie says, of another example I give, Judges 21: “The abduction of the women of Shiloh in Judges 21 is not approved of in the Bible but is recorded as evidence of the way in which the people of Israel had turned from God to ‘doing what was right in their own eyes’ (Judges 21:25).” My reason for citing the text was to demonstrate that violence and marriage are widely linked. The story is an example of escalating chaos, but it is also cast as a “solution” to the prospect of a tribe ceasing to exist. This “solution” is, once more, violent for women.

[16] I am far from alone in this interpretation. Harold Washington (1998) is an early voice expressing horror at this text. For a more recent interrogation of the violence of this text, see Monica Rey (2016).

[17] I have written about this passage elsewhere (Stiebert 2023).

[18] See my article elsewhere (Stiebert 2019).

[19] One researcher who has published extensively in this area is Susannah Cornwall, Professor of Constructive Theologies.

[20] Even in the early years, as Christianity was emerging and forming, there existed different Christian groups and disagreements between Gnostics, Marcionites and a group now called Jewish Christian Adoptionists. There are still divisions within the Christian community – including with regard to such matters as women’s ordination, human sexuality and same-sex marriage, abortion, and divorce, among other topics. There is no univocal or homogenous Christian tradition. Again, Davie decides what is “clear” within that which he deems the Christian tradition.

[21] I don’t believe Song of Songs was created to be such a metaphor of divine-human love but I find the fact that it has been applied in such a way understandable. David Clines has written magnificently and persuasively on this text (1995: 94–121).

[22] Marriage itself is no guarantee of anything. Where data exists, indications are that Christian marriages are as likely to break down and breed violence as marriages in the general population. See Helen Paynter’s chapter in my edited volume on abuse in world religions where she explores domestic abuse in (heterosexual) Christian marriages (Stiebert, 2025).

read more

Genesis 38: A Legal Case and the Vindication of Tamar

by Johanna Stiebert on

Today’s post is by Victoria Mildenhall who published another piece recently, on a story of Lot (Genesis 14). Here Victoria focuses on a different story from Genesis: the story of Judah and Tamar (Genesis 38). In terms of rape culture, this story raises questions, including, “what is a qedeshah (often translated ‘sacred prostitute’ or ‘temple prostitute’)?” and “what can we make of the levirate law and Judah’s treatment of Tamar?”

Victoria studied for her undergraduate degree with the Open University and went on to complete two Masters degrees in Ancient Religion with Theology and Criminology.  She is due to begin a PhD at Leeds University under the supervision of Johanna Stiebert (Biblical Studies) and Sam Lewis (Criminology and Criminal Justice), focusing on models of justice in the Bible that respond to instances of sexual violation.

Introduction

Chapter 38 of Genesis interrupts the Joseph story cycle and does not feature Joseph at all (see Wünch, 2012; Kim, 2010). Instead, one of the two central characters is Judah, Joseph’s older brother. As a son of Jacob, Judah is privileged by birth.[i] The text appears to be aimed at a readership who approves of him, a mature Israelite male, as a community leader. This presupposes an audience who is Israelite and accepts, even assumes, patriarchal authority.

Following a close textual examination, I will examine the complex legal tangle involving Judah and Tamar, his widowed daughter-in-law. Apart from Judah’s unnamed wife, who plays little active part in the story and dies early on (38:2-5, 12), Tamar is the only female character among males – Judah, Hirah, Judah’s three sons, Tamar’s father, and Tamar’s twin sons. As Mieke Bal points out, Tamar comes to be viewed by the adult men in the narrative as a lethal woman, and Judah almost succeeds in having her killed by burning (1987, p.100). The narrator, however, seems sympathetic towards Tamar. Ultimately, Tamar is vindicated and becomes established as a biblical matriarch.

The Story

The chapter begins with Judah going to settle near “a certain Adullamite whose name was Hirah.” He sees and takes (that is, marries) a nameless Canaanite woman (the daughter of one Shua); and they have three sons: Er, Onan, and Shelah. Judah “takes” a wife for Er (38:6) but Er is wicked and killed by YHWH (38:7), leaving behind his wife, Tamar. Judah demands that Onan fulfil the levirate law – that is, the duty of a levir (brother-in-law) when a brother has died without progeny – by impregnating Tamar and making an heir for the deceased Er (38:8).

The levirate law is discussed in Deuteronomy 25:5-10 and may have been practised in the ancient world within and outside of Israelite communities (von Rad, 1972/1978, p. 359; Alter, 2006, n.p). As Johanna Stiebert notes, this law is in tension with Leviticus 18:16 and 20:21, where it is written that a man may not uncover the nakedness of his brother’s wife or “take” her, both euphemisms for sexual activity (2016, p.46). In Deuteronomy, however, this is recommended practice when a man with a brother dies and his widow is left childless.[ii]

Onan has sex with Tamar but deliberately spills his semen on the ground to prevent Tamar from bearing a child who would not be considered his (38:9).  YHWH kills Onan too (38:10). Now Judah fears Shelah could die as well (38:11). Judah, disingenuously, tells Tamar to live as a widow at her father’s house until Shelah becomes old enough to fulfil a levir’s duty (38:10-11). 

Next, Judah’s wife dies, and he goes into a period of mourning. When this has passed, Judah, with Hirah, goes to Timnah to shear sheep (38:12). Tamar is told this, and she covers herself with a veil before sitting on the side of the road. Tamar has acknowledged that although Shelah is now old enough, she has not been given to him (38:14). So, she covers her face, leading Judah to assume that she is a zonah (“prostitute,” from the root z-n-h) (38:15).[iii] Providing his seal, staff and cord in lieu of payment, Judah has sex with Tamar; she becomes pregnant from the encounter (38:16-23).

Judah sends the payment of a kid-goat with Hirah, in order to recover his items given in pledge. The townspeople, however, when Hirah asks about a qedasha (“temple prostitute”, 38:21) tell him there isn’t one. Judah, fearing mockery, resolves to let the woman keep his things.

Three months later, Judah is told that his daughter-in-law Tamar is guilty of “playing the whore” (a verb derived from the root z-n-h) and that she is pregnant. Judah demands that she be burned to death (38:24). At this point, Tamar declares that she is pregnant by the owner of the pledge she produces: the seal, cord and staff (38:25). Judah recognises the items and states that Tamar is more righteous than he, since he did not give her his son, Shelah (38:26). Tamar is reprieved and gives birth to male twins, Perez and Zerah (38:27-30).

Tamar and Canaan, Exogamy and Death

There is little in the way of introduction to Tamar. I get the impression that she is young; she is at least one generation below Judah. She is given to one man (Er) and then another (Onan). Both fall foul of YHWH and die (38:7, 10). Shelah is withheld from her. There is no information about who Tamar’s parents are; they never speak while she is at her natal home (38:11), even when she is in crisis (38:24). There is no mention of Tamar having siblings or friends. She is told of her father-in-law’s movements (38:13) and she is talked about (38:24) – but by whom is not disclosed. All this creates the sense that Tamar is quite alone. Her powerless aloneness is in stark contrast with Judah’s authority and influence. Judah has a friend, Hirah, and possessions (sheep), as well as markers of power (a signet and staff). Judah exercises control over his wife, sons, Tamar, and in the local community. He has authority to give Tamar to his sons (Er, Onan) or to withhold her from his son (Shelah); he can send Tamar away to her father’s house and he can have her brought out from there to face execution.

Tamar’s origins are not stated. Victor Hamilton raises the theory that she is an Aramaean from Mesopotamia (1995, p.433) but it is probable that like Judah’s own wife (38:2), Tamar is from the local community and, therefore, Canaanite. Lack of clarity regarding Tamar’s ethnicity might derive from the narrator’s efforts to downplay Tamar’s (undeclared) Canaanite background in the light that she, through one of her twin sons, is ancestor to King David. Seth Kunin, however, considers the omission to affirm Tamar’s Hebrew origin, with the passage highlighting the dangers of Judah’s own exogamy (1995, p.148). Judah, after all, marries a Canaanite woman and loses his sons without progeny.

Indeed, exogamy, particularly between Israelites and Canaanites, is negatively depicted in multiple biblical passages (e.g. Genesis 24:2-4; 28:6-9), with Canaanites much maligned (cf. Leviticus 18:3). Calum Carmichael suggests that some of the laws regarding the mixing of produce, materials, or animals, which seem peculiar, even impractical – for example, the prohibition of ploughing an ox with an ass – are actually metaphors for the prohibition of sexual relations between Israelites and Canaanites (1982, p.402-3), which is a plausible theory.

On balance, I believe that the omission of details regarding Tamar’s family suggests that she is a local Canaanite who goes on to be “brought in” to Israel. Her Canaanite origins are resolved by legitimising her – as righteous and as a mother to sons who are ancestors to great figures in Israel’s history.

In the narrative, death and barrenness become attributed to both Judah’s exogamy and to Canaan. Death haunts Canaan, compatible with a trope in scripture that associates Canaan with prohibited sexual acts and idolatry (e.g. Leviticus 18). Judah’s wife dies and YHWH kills two of Judah’s sons born to her: Er and Onan; both of them die childless.

There is no comment on Er’s crime, but Onan is guilty of sexual aberration: he has sex with Tamar but avoids impregnating her, which is his duty (38:8-9). There are inter-textual links here with the earlier narrative of Lot, who also marries an unnamed woman who may be Canaanite: she also dies, and their children, too, commit sexual offences (Genesis 19). Researchers have examined the similarities between the narratives of Tamar/Judah, and Lot and his daughters, as well as Ruth/Boaz, with deception involved in every case to instigate sexual congress (Stiebert, 2016, p.146; Rashkow, 2000, p.111-112; Bal, 1987, p.98). Lot, like Judah, demonstrates the dangers of exogamy and of attempting to integrate into a Canaanite community – that is, according to the biblical ideology, promoting Israelite values and theology.

Tamar, Judah, and his sons

As part of this ideology, danger is inevitable when Judah marries a Canaanite woman and when he selects Tamar for Er, his eldest son. Neither Er, nor Tamar, has a say in the matter; the text lacks detail and assent, unlike with the courtship of Rebekah and Isaac (Genesis 24:8, 57-58). Robert Alter points out with reference to Er and his unknown offences that there is a biblical pattern of the eldest son being reckless or wild (2006, n.p) – Cain, Esau, Reuben… After Er is killed by YHWH, Judah orders Onan to “go in” to Tamar to produce a child that will belong to Er. Onan is uncooperative; Tamar, once again, has no say in the matter.

Alter observes that Tamar does not complain to Judah about Onan’s offence (1995, n.p). When Onan, like Er, is killed by YHWH, Judah views Tamar as dangerous (38:11, Bal, 1987, p.100).[iv] Judah promises Tamar that she will be given to Shelah, his youngest and only remaining son, when he is of age. He must be very young. His name comes from a root that means “to be silent or quiet,” which is appropriate, as Shelah does not speak, and, like his brothers, has no say in his father’s matchmaking (Jeansonne, 1990, p.100). Judah, arguably, feminises all three of his sons through his micromanagement and control.[v] He also asserts control over Tamar, his daughter-in-law.

Judah is preoccupied with Tamar’s womb and fertility; he gives no consideration to the rest of her: Tamar is not consulted or offered the protection of marriage, for instance. Onan, too, diminishes Tamar; he has sex with her, as instructed, but ejaculates on the ground rather than provide her and his deceased brother with a child (Stiebert, 2013, p.130). Yet Tamar, whose inner life and agency are nullified by Judah, is the one who goes on to take charge of her fertility and to manoeuvre the man obsessed with her womb to impregnate her – without realising it. Moreover, Tamar bides her time and brings about that Judah not only publicly exonerates her but pronounces her more righteous than himself. Tamar turns the tables.

Tamar – zonah and qedeshah

Judah is worried about the fate of Shelah if he marries Tamar, and commands Tamar to go and live as a widow at her father’s house. It was not Tamar who displeased YHWH; and she submitted to Judah’s orders – but it is Tamar whom Judah regards as the reason for Er and Onan’s deaths. Judah overlooks his older sons’ actions, or the possibility of them behaving in aberrant ways, and is complicit in thwarting Tamar’s prospects of having a child or remarrying. It is not entirely clear if Judah is deceiving Tamar intentionally and never intends for Shelah to fulfil the levirate duty, or if he initially intends to honour this duty and then changes his mind. That Judah sends Tamar away rather than keeping her in his household as a betrothed daughter-in-law, suggests he is absolving himself of responsibility towards her.[vi] 

Judah’s wife dies and he goes into mourning. Shelah might also be in mourning for the loss of his mother and brothers, but focus is on Judah.  After the appropriate period, Tamar “is told” (by an anonymous messenger) that Judah is going to Timnah to shear his sheep (38:13). In biblical texts sheep shearing is associated with festivities, eating and drinking (Alter, 2006, n.p; Hamilton, 1995, p.439).[vii] Judah’s attendance at the festival signals to Tamar that the mourning period is over for Judah, and perhaps also for Shelah. It appears that during this time, Tamar has had no direct contact or communication from Judah.

Tamar puts off her widow’s garments, covers herself with a veil, and sits on the side of the road. Her intention in donning the disguise is not stated and we are left to guess. Did she expect to be perceived as a zonah, a prostitute, and if so, a qedeshah, a sacred one? Did she intend to entrap Judah or Shelah? The choice of disguise makes a point: Judah has already treated Tamar like a sex object, giving her to Er, then commanding Onan to have sex with her. To me, this calls to mind Genesis 34, the narrative of the rape of Dinah by Shechem. Dinah’s brothers, Simeon and Levi, react to Jacob’s rebuke after they kill Shechem and his family by stating, “Should our sister be treated like a zonah?” (34:31). Judah has treated Tamar like a prostitute, and this is how he sees her now, sitting by the side of the road that leads to the festival, albeit without recognising her as his daughter-in-law.[viii] Judah’s proposition is brusque: he approaches Tamar with the words, “Come, let me come in to you” (38:16). Ilona Rashkow proposes that when she is called a qedeshah (38:21) this refers to the cult of Asherah or Anat (2000, p.57), while von Rad posits that the cult would be that of Astarte (1972/1987, p.359).

Given that Judah had been attending a sheep shearing festival, it might be odd that he sends a kid-goat as payment, rather than a lamb. Three possibilities occur to me.  First, it could be that a kid-goat was a standard and appropriate payment; this means there is nothing particularly significant about the payment. A second reason might be that the narrator is indicating through symbolism that Judah believes Tamar to be a Canaanite shrine prostitute. This may allude to a link between goats and prostitution, as in Leviticus 17:7, “They must no longer offer any of their sacrifices to the goat idols to whom they prostitute themselves.” Rashkow also observes that Judah promises a kid-goat that Tamar never receives, just as she never receives Judah’s son, Shelah (2000, p.39).[ix] This second reason reflects badly on Judah: it shows him as a man propositioning a sacred prostitute from a non-Israelite religion.[x] A third possibility, that lets Judah off the hook more, is that the goat is apt in Canaanite and Israelite settings, because the narrative is taking place in a time when the goddess Asherah is associated with YHWH, possibly as divine consorts. Recent archaeological discoveries of inscriptions of “YHWH and His Asherah,” such as from Kuntillet Ajrud, have prompted enquiry, particularly as the inscription uses Asherah as a personal name rather than referring to the asherah with a definite article (or asherim, in the plural) as a cultic object (as at Exodus 34:13; Deuteronomy 7:5, 12:13, 16:21).[xi] On balance, I think this third possibility is least likely, but it is worthy of consideration.

Judah does not have the payment of a kid-goat to hand, and it is here that Tamar seizes the opportunity to take a pledge. Her request is for his seal, cord and staff, all of which are most likely of far greater value to Judah than a kid-goat, as they are symbols of his identity and authority. The seal, or signet, is a personal sign and identifier (rather like a passport in present times); it takes the form of a small, inscribed cylinder, usually worn around the neck, that can be pressed on damp clay to seal agreements (Alter, 2006, n.p; von Rad,1972/1987, p. 360). A cord is symbolic in its capacity to bind, and also has practical purposes, such as when pitching a tent (Exodus 35:18) or for measuring (Psalms 78:55); the word also occurs in the expression to be bound by cords of sin (Psalm 5:22). It appears that Tamar has the measure of Judah and has bound him to her one way or another. Finally, Tamar takes Judah’s staff, a symbol of his authority and in the Hebrew Bible, a symbol of power.[xii]

In Genesis 49:8-12 Jacob, on his deathbed, addressing his sons in turn, summarises Judah’s character and foretells his fate. Jacob notes Judah’s staff (49:10) as a symbol of his authority, which points back to Genesis 38 – where Judah certainly asserts his authority over his sons and Tamar. For Tamar to take the pledge, she is essentially taking some part of his identity and authority and holding him to ransom. Another aspect underscored by Jacob that is relevant to Genesis 38 is Judah’s love of wine (49:11). It is not explicitly mentioned in Genesis 38 – but is likely to be part of sheep shearing festivities.[xiii]  Even though Tamar is veiled when Judah propositions her, we might ask how Judah does not recognise her as his daughter-in-law. This seems particularly odd when we read that Judah and Tamar are intimate (38:18). Did Tamar remain veiled throughout? Did Judah never find her voice familiar? Drunkenness appears to be one good way to account for this oddity.

Wine and viniculture also have significant associations in the Hebrew Bible with Canaan and with destruction. At Genesis 9:20-22, Noah plants a vineyard, gets drunk and is humiliated, most probably in a sexualised way, by his son, who is referred to as “Ham, the father of Canaan.”[xiv] And at Genesis 19:33-38, Lot is plied with wine by his own daughters who have sex with him while he is drunk. In some traditions, the locations of Sodom and Zoar (Genesis 19) are in Canaan. This would make Canaan associated with both wine and sexual offences. 

Later, Judah attempts to make payment (38:20). He does not go himself but sends his friend, Hirah the Adullamite. The narrator draws our attention to this character for a second time. Is Hirah the partner in crime or a bad influence on Judah? At the start of the chapter, it states that Judah “went down” to settle near Hirah (38:1). This is a topographical reference but also one that can be metaphorical. A descent is depicted elsewhere as a metaphor for behaviour that removes one from God (e.g. Isaiah 14:15).

When asking local people if they have seen the prostitute by the side of the road, Hirah uses the term qedeshah (38:21) which incorporates the Hebrew root q-d-sh, meaning “holy.” Perhaps Hirah is referring to a shrine prostitute, an officiate of a religious cult, which is juxtaposed with the term zonah, used elsewhere to denote a prostitute, sometimes in a derogatory way, or in association with idolatry. Perhaps Hirah views the qedeshah as superior to a zonah; perhaps qedeshah is a euphemism for zonah. The local people tell him that they have not seen a qedeshah in the area, and Hirah reports back to Judah. Judah makes the decision not to say anything lest they both become a laughingstock. Hamilton suggests that the risk lies in being viewed as weak for being robbed by a common prostitute (1995, p.448). 

Next is another period of time where, once again, Tamar is left waiting, as a widow at her father’s house, without contact or communication from Judah. He neither cancels the betrothal to Shelah nor fulfils it. Around three months later, Judah is told that Tamar is pregnant “and has played the zonah” (38:24). The messenger clearly delights in the gossip, using incendiary terms, “Tamar has played the whore; moreover she is pregnant as a result of whoredom” (NRSV, 38:24). Anonymous messengers stir up trouble and make things happen (38:13, 24). How does the messenger know when Judah is going to Timnah so that Tamar sits on the side of the road at just the right time? How does the messenger know that Tamar is pregnant due to prostitution when Hirah reports that nobody saw her? Should we take the messenger to be divine or supernatural? Or is the messenger a narrative device, filling in gaps for the audience to advance the action?

The Legal Case

The messenger’s words have swift and violent effect. Judah demands that Tamar is brought out and burned. James Kugel observes that the situation is a legal matter and Judah the judge and executioner (2006, p.171) – without any recourse to evidence to either support or deny the accusations of “whoring” or pregnancy. There is no room, for instance, for the possibility that Tamar could have been raped or that the gossip is untrue. To bring someone out is to remove them from the protection of their house and to expose them before their community for prosecution (cf. Deuteronomy 22:21). 

If Judah is charging and condemning Tamar for adultery, by virtue of sex with another man while betrothed to Shelah, then the punishment would more likely have been stoning rather than burning (Deuteronomy 22:21, 24). The punishment of death penalty by burning occurs in two other scriptural locations: for incest with a mother-in-law (Leviticus 20:14) and for prostitution by a priest’s daughter (Leviticus 21:9). It is not stated that Tamar is the daughter of a priest, and any charge of incest is also not explicit. There is, however, some dramatic irony here: after all, if not a priest’s daughter, Tamar is taken to be a qedeshah, literally “a holy woman,” and Judah does (albeit unknowingly) commit incest with Tamar (Leviticus 18:15). Hence, if unwittingly, the punishment is, on one level, apt.

Tamar’s family members do not appear, even though Tamar has been living in her father’s house. As Tamar is brought out, she sends word to her father-in-law and produces the pledge, stating that she is pregnant by the man to whom the items belong. Tamar knew that at some point she would need to prove the legitimacy of her pregnancy and now, with a cruel death imminent, is the climactic time to hold up the signs of Judah’s identity and status. Judah has no option but to accept the situation. He declares, “She is more in the right than I, since I did not give her to my son, Shelah”.  He is not saying she is right or he is wrong – but he is drastically changing the verdict.

William John Lyons observes that the feminine form of tsedeq (“right/eous”) is used in Genesis 38:26, which is unusual (2002, p.195-6). Women are not usually called tsedeq in the Bible. The same form of tsedeq is, however, used for Esther, Sarah and Rebekah in Rabbinic traditions. Stiebert observes another inversion, namely of sexual norms, in the story of Tamar, which also applies to the agency exercised by Ruth (2013, p. 212). Both Tamar and Ruth are in exogamous unions with Israelite men, widowed, and later, following some trickery and subterfuge, joined to another man who is related to their deceased husband. Both are brought into Israel and legitimated through their male offspring. Acting under their own initiative carries risks; their actions could either bless or damn them.  Given the limits of their agency due to their gender and ethnicity, it is questionable whether either has much free will. In both instances, Tamar and Ruth maximise what little opportunity they have.   

The possible legal complexities intimated in the story of Genesis 38 can be summarised as follows:

  • If Tamar was betrothed to Shelah at the time of her pregnancy, then both Judah and she have committed adultery and incest. Additionally, Tamar committed prostitution. Judah, if he believed the woman with the veil to be a Canaanite qedeshah, committed idolatry. Both are guilty.
  • If Judah released Tamar from betrothal to Shelah on sending her back to her natal home, then Tamar has committed no crime in terms of Israel’s law: she has reverted to the laws of her father’s house, which is Canaanite. Incest, moreover, would not be at issue, because, at the time of their sexual encounter, there was no longer a familial relationship. Judah, however, has committed idolatry by visiting a Canaanite shrine prostitute. Tamar is not guilty, but Judah is.
  • If Judah maintained that the situation regarding betrothal to Shelah was suspended but valid upon their sexual union, and if he were to claim that he was deceived into committing incest, then only Tamar is guilty of deliberate incest. Judah is still guilty of intending to commit idolatry, but as Tamar was only pretending to be a shrine prostitute he is not guilty of the violation itself.
  • If Judah accepts that he fulfilled the levirate duty himself, then neither he nor Tamar has committed incest and Judah’s offence of idolatry is nullified as the sexual congress is subsumed under the levirate law. Neither is guilty.

To save his reputation, Judah accepts responsibility for Tamar’s pregnancy, which also saves Tamar. The cord that Tamar took as part of the pledge emphasises that they are bound together. Possibly indicating the legal casuistry and fragility of this resolution, Judah does not risk having sex with Tamar ever again (38:16). Tamar, whom Judah may still suspect of having played a role in the deaths of his sons Er and Onan and who tricked him and jeopardised his reputation, remains risky.

Throughout the chapter, Tamar comes to signify a range of female archetypes of the ancient world: virgin, wife, widow, whore, priestess, mother, matriarch. Each of these roles is determined in some way or other by Judah. Judah gives her to his firstborn son, Er; afterwards, he hands her over to Onan; he sends her to be a widow in her father’s house; he takes her to be a qedeshah; he makes her a mother; she becomes a matriarch in the lineage of David (Ruth 4:18-22).  

The subtext of the story is that although Judah has power and authority in the story, it does not match YHWH’s. Moreover, the full significance of the events is not clear until generations later. Tamar, the more righteous one, is part of a story much bigger than just her own. Against the odds, she, like Ruth an outsider, acquires a noble role in the community and history of Israel.  

Tamar, the righteous Canaanite woman, is both contrasted and brought together with a corrupted Israelite patriarch. Judah’s exogamy is problematic for the narrator. Possibly indicative of this, Judah’s first two sons do not just die, they are killed by YHWH for wickedness. But Tamar is raised up as a tenacious Canaanite and she and her progeny are rewarded.

WORKS CITED

Alter, R. (1996) Genesis: Translation and Commentary. W.W. Norton and Co. Inc.. New York.

Bal, M. (1987) Lethal Love: Feminist Literary Readings of Biblical Love Stories. Indiana University Press, Indiana.

Bergsma, J. and Hahn, S. (2005) “Noah’s Nakedness and the Curse on Canaan: Genesis 9:20-27.” Journal of Biblical Literature, vol.124 (1), pp.25-40.

Carmichael, C. (1982) “Forbidden Mixtures.” Vetus Testamentum, vol.32 (4), pp.394-415.

Dever, W. (2005) Did God Have a Wife? Eerdmans Press, Michigan.

Doedens, J. (2013) “Ancient Israelite Polytheistic Inscriptions: Was Asherah Viewed as YHWH’s Wife?”  Sarospataki Füzetek, 1-2, pp.42-54.

Greenough, C. (2021) The Bible and Sexual Violence Against Men. (Rape Culture, Religion and the Bible Series), Routledge, London.

Hadley, J. (2000) The Cult of Asherah in Ancient Israel and Judah: Evidence for a Hebrew Goddess.  Cambridge University Press, London.

Hamilton, V. (1995) Genesis 18-50.  New International Commentary on the Old Testament. W.B Eerdmans, Michigan.

Jeansonne, S. (1990) Women of Genesis. Fortress Press, Minneapolis.

King, P. (1989) “The Marzeah: Textual and Archaeological Evidence.” Eretz-Israel: Archaeological, Historical and Geographical Studies (20), pp.98-106

Kim, D. (2010) A Literary-Critical Analysis of the Role of Genesis 38 Within Genesis 37-50 as Part of the Primary Narrative.  PhD Thesis, University of Sheffield.

Kugel, J. (2006) The Ladder of Jacob: Ancient Interpretations of the Biblical Story of Jacob and His Children.  Princeton University Press, Oxfordshire.

Kunin, S. (1995) The Logic of Incest: A Structural Analysis of Hebrew Mythology.  Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Supplement Series (185), Sheffield Academic Press.

Lyons, W. J. (2002) Canon and Exegesis: Canonical Praxis and the Sodom Narrative.  Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Supplement Series (352). Sheffield Academic Press.

Olyan,S. (1988) Asherah and the Cult of Yahweh in Israel. The Society of Biblical Literature, Georgia.

Rashkow, I. (2000) Taboo or Not Taboo: Sexuality and Family in the Hebrew Bible. Fortress Press, Minneapolis.

Stiebert, J. (2016) First Degree Incest and the Hebrew Bible.  Bloomsbury, London.

Stiebert, J. (2013) Fathers & Daughters in the Hebrew Bible. Oxford University Press, Oxford.

Von Rad, G. (1972/1987) Genesis. SCM Press, London.

Wünch, H. G. (2012) Genesis 38: Judah’s Turning Point: Structural Analysis and Narrative Techniques and their Meaning for Genesis 38 and its Placement in the Story of Joseph.  Old Testament Essays, vol.25 (3) pp.777-806.

[i] Judah is born to Leah, and is the fourth son of Jacob. His name refers to praising (YHWH) (Gen 29:35).

[ii] Note Matthew 14:3 (also Mark 6:17-29 and Luke 3:19-20) where John the Baptist condemns Herod for marrying his sister-in-law, Herodius, when his brother Philip was still alive. It may be, then, that the law applies only in the case of a deceased brother.

[iii] The NRSV uses the translations “prostitute” and “temple prostitute” for zonah and qedeshah. There is a case to be made for using the designation “sex worker” rather than “prostitute.” I will follow translations of the NRSV here. It is important to note that words of the root z-n-h, are sometimes clearly derogatory, not simply descriptive. In such cases “harlot” and “whore” (cf. 38:24) are used. As a verb, this root can also refer to idolatry rather than sexual activity. With the word qedeshah (literally, “holy woman”) there is some discussion as to whether it actually signified what has sometimes been labelled “cultic prostitution” or whether this indicates discriminatory attitudes – of either or both biblical writers or interpreters.

[iv] Gerhard von Rad cites Tobit 3:7 as another example where a wife is blamed for the deaths of her husbands (1972/1987, p.358).

[v] For an interesting examination of feminisation of men in the Bible, see Chris Greenough (2021).

[vi] Judah’s ability to determine Tamar’s fate, even after she has left his household to live in her natal home, as ordered (38:11, 24-25), signifies his authority.

[vii] See also 1 Samuel 25:2-8 and 2 Samuel 13:23-24 for other examples of sheep shearing festivities in the Hebrew Bible.

[viii] Victor Hamilton (1995, p.442) refers to Assyrian law and suggests that by donning the disguise she could have been an unmarried sacred prostitute, a female slave, or a prostitute not attached to a cult.

[ix] Note also that kid-goat links Genesis 38 to the Joseph cycle. In Genesis 37:31, Joseph’s brothers dip his coat into goat blood as a way of deceiving Jacob into believing that Joseph has been killed.

[x] Deuteronomy 23:17 which may, however, come from a different (perhaps much later) time prohibits any among the “daughters of Israel” becoming a qedeshah, translated “temple prostitute” in NRSV.

[xi] There is now a wealth of research into the relationship between YHWH and Asherah, particularly in the context of the sacred feminine in early Israel. Judith Hadley offers a comprehensive examination of archaeological discoveries alongside the biblical associations (2000, see especially pp.54-77). Saul Olyan focuses on the Canaanite associations of Asherah as a goddess (1988). William Dever concludes that Asherah is an Israelite goddess associated with YHWH worship as part of early folk religion (2005, pp.212-213). Additionally, Dever believes that asherah/asherim were never idols, but that they were used for meditative focus. Another relevant text by Jacob Doedens suggests that Asherah was an Israelite goddess who was part of a more complicated landscape of polytheism among early biblical YHWH worshippers (2013, pp.42-54, p.53).

[xii] Consider, for example, that in Exodus 4:2-5 YHWH tells Moses to throw his staff on the ground; the staff becomes a serpent and then turns back into a staff, signifying YHWH’s dominance over earthly rulers. In Exodus 7:17, Moses stretches out his staff to part the waters of the Nile at YHWH’s command. The staff is a symbol of the authority of tribal leaders in Numbers 17. 

[xiii] Canaanite festivals appear to have included excessive drinking. Philip King discusses several examples, including the marzeah, a wine-drinking festival for mourning the dead that honoured the Canaanite pantheon of El. Archaeological evidence for rites that included drinking were found also at Kuntillet Ajrud (1989, pp.98-106). Scriptural examples of Canaanite festivals that involved imbibing wine are found in Isaiah 28:7-8, Jeremiah 16:5-8; Hosea 7:14 and Amos 6:4-7. In some of these passages, the prophets repeat prohibitions of attending the Canaanite festivals that centre on viniculture because they involved also some forms of worship. The repeated prohibitions suggest that these were a problem. 

[xiv] John Bergsma and Scott Hahn examine four possible options including voyeurism, castration, paternal incest and maternal incest (2005, pp.25-40)

read more

Genesis 14: Could Lot Potentially Be a Victim of Attempted Sexual Enslavement or Attempted Wartime Rape?

by Johanna Stiebert on

Today’s post is by Victoria Mildenhall. The featured image is The Capture of Lot, by James Dabney McCabe, 1842-1883.

Victoria studied for her undergraduate degree with the Open University and went on to complete two Masters degrees in Ancient Religion with Theology and Criminology.  She is due to begin a PhD at Leeds University under the supervision of Johanna Stiebert (Biblical Studies) and Sam Lewis (Criminology and Criminal Justice), focussing on models of justice in the Bible that respond to instances of sexual violation.

The narrative of Genesis 14:1-24, recounting Lot’s kidnapping and rescue, is intriguing to biblical scholars for multiple reasons. Firstly, Abra(ha)m[1] is depicted here as a community leader and warrior, which is not the case in some other parts of scripture, which show him as a rather more solitary figure, or in domestic, family dynamics.  Secondly, it contains one of very few biblical references to Melchizedek and this is the only instance where this mysterious priest-king appears in person.[2]  Thirdly, the passage contains cultural, theological, political and topographical hints that might yield clues for the interpretation of surrounding passages. 

When it comes to analysing sexual violence in the Hebrew Bible, however, this pericope is most often overlooked, probably due to its abundant ambiguities, including where the intention of Lot’s kidnappers is concerned.  Yet, by examining the narrative of Genesis 14 inter-textually in the light of scriptures and themes in its close proximity, I will argue that Lot narrowly avoids becoming a victim of sexual enslavement, or wartime rape.  Four points provide the rationale for my assertion: surrounding and associated scriptures that depict or suggest sexual violation; scriptural condemnation levelled at sexual practices of neighbouring peoples, particularly the Canaanites; the presentation of Lot; and the use of the Hebrew term lqh. 

The first part of Genesis 14 describes a political conflict raging throughout the region.  A coalition of four kings, led by King Chedorlaomer of Elam, wages war with five cities south of the Dead Sea after they rebel (14:1-9). Things are going badly for the rebels when some fall into the bitumen pits and the rest flee to the hill country (v.10).  This creates an opportunity for Chedorlaomer and his cohort; they plunder Sodom and Gomorrah, taking goods, possessions, and the inhabitants, presumably as enslaved people, including Lot and his household (14:11-12, 16). One individual escapes and reports the events to Abra(ha)m, who gathers a military unit of three hundred and eighteen men and goes in pursuit (14:13-14).  In a night-time battle, Abra(ha)m and his men successfully rescue Lot and his possessions (14:15-16). Rather than keeping the plunder and enslaving any captives, Abra(ha)m returns them to the King of Sodom and is blessed by Melchizedek, to whom Abra(ha)m pays a tithe (14:17-20).

Is Abra(ha)m making a strategic point here? Is he communicating that he does not want to be implicated in any way in the horrors from which he has rescued his nephew, Lot? And if so, what might these horrors be? I argue that Lot was rescued from sexual violence, such as rape, or sexual enslavement.

The first reason that this passage might be included among texts of the Hebrew Bible suggestive of sexual aggression and violence is its proximity to other such passages, including two of male-on-male violence or, at the very least, male-on-male sexualised impropriety and domination: the first is the odd story fragment of Ham and his naked father Noah (Genesis 9:20-25), and the second, the account of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah following a threat of male-male rape (Genesis 19:5). Other examples of sexual violence are Lot’s daughters’ violation of their father (Genesis 19:30-38) and the narrative of Abra(ha)m telling Pharaoh that Sarai (=Sarah)[3] is his sister so that Pharaoh “takes” her (Genesis 12:10-20). It is against this wider background of rape-threats and violations that we find the pericope of Lot’s kidnap.

Secondly, biblical references to Canaanite people are repeatedly accompanied by aspersions as to their sexual immorality and depravity (e.g. Leviticus 18:3; Deuteronomy 20:18; 1 Kings 14:24). Targeting Abra(ha)m’s nephew for sexual enslavement or rape would fit into this picture. There is a pronounced connection in the Hebrew Bible between foreign gods, including those of Canaan, and sexual immorality. Idolatry and worship of other gods are metaphorically associated with adultery in several of the prophetic texts (Hosea 1-2; Ezekiel 16 and 23), and Israel is explicitly warned against both foreign gods and sexual impropriety to preserve collective identity and holiness (Leviticus 18). The story of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah (Genesis 19), where Lot reappears in a later narrative, also associates Canaanite cities with very negative qualities, be this the threat of male-male rape or inhospitality (Greenough, 2021, p.21).

Thirdly, in all of his appearances in the Hebrew Bible, Lot is shown to be vulnerable.  In Genesis 13:11 he separates from Abra(ha)m, which might reflect a theological and ideological separation between (favoured) uncle and (wanting) nephew, with the narrator emphasising distance between them. In the narrative in Genesis 14, Lot has failed in protecting his household; he is in a position of responsibility, and he has not lived up to this role – hence, Abra(ha)m has to rescue him. In the later narrative of Sodom and Gomorrah, Lot is under pressure, going so far as to offer up his own daughters to a mob of threatening men (Genesis 19:8). He cannot save himself or his family; Lot’s own sons-in-law don’t take him seriously (Genesis 19:14); divine messengers intervene to save Lot together with his wife and daughters; even then, Lot dithers (Genesis 19:16). He is portrayed as thoroughly ineffectual.[4]

It might be that the men of Sodom assault Lot in a sexualised manner when he is negotiating with them.  The wording describing their interaction is unusual: “Then they pressed hard against the man Lot…” (Genesis 19:9, NRSV).  Whatever is going on here, it could be sexually threatening, or, at least, threatening to Lot’s masculinity. Notably (and, arguably, superfluously) Lot is called “the man Lot”. Moreover, to protect his visitors and – presumably – himself also, Lot resorts to offering the mob in Sodom a sexual substitute: his own daughters, whom he identifies as virgins (Genesis 19:8). The offer of his own daughters, whom he ought to protect, is frightful. It also indicates both the acute danger of the situation and the sexually charged nature of the threat.

Finally, it is significant that Lot is the victim of his own daughters’ sexual violation when he is drunk and they, in turn, exploit his lack of awareness to conceive sons with him (Genesis 19:30-38). Again, Lot is rendered vulnerable here; he is exploited for sex.

Chris Greenough observes, “Hegemonic masculinity promotes attitudes, behaviours and regulation within society and culture that all serve to perpetuate notions of men as strong, powerful, warrior-like and consequently, the opposite of a victim” (2021, p.13). Lot repeatedly falls short, including in terms of implied notions of hegemonic masculinity. It is Abra(ha)m who acts as warrior and rescuer – that is, as masculine. Lot, however, needs to be rescued – first by Abra(ha)m (Genesis 14), and then by the divine messengers (Genesis 19). Lot is unable to protect his visitors or his family. He is repeatedly threatened in sexual and sexualised ways (Genesis 19:9, 33, 35) – including, I am proposing in Genesis 14. 

In terms of the implied gender ideology of Genesis a man who is overpowered, including sexually overpowered, is a man whose masculinity is diminished. Lot is repeatedly shown to be overpowered – and dramatically so here where Abra(ha)m rescues him.  Once more, Lot fails as a man; later, he cannot defend himself against his violent neighbours (whom he calls “brothers”, Genesis 19:7), or against his own daughters (Genesis 19:31-36): he certainly can’t stand up to the armies of several kings. He is completely in their power and control. 

The final indicator that sexual violation is implied in Genesis 14 is the occurrence of the Hebrew verbal root lqh (lamed-qoph-chet, Genesis 14:12).  This widely used verb is most often translated with variants of “to take”.[5] Relevant to my enquiry, lqh is also used to indicate taking for sex and rape: Sarai (=Sarah) is taken by Pharaoh (Genesis 12:19), and the verb also pertains to the kidnap and rape of Dinah by Shechem (Genesis 34:2).  Sandie Gravett (2004) proposes that lqh can be used in instances where force and violence apply, including and prominently where sexual violation is implied. 

In Genesis 14, those who are “taken” (including Lot) appear to be taken for purposes of enslavement.  Just like the other goods that are seized (Genesis 14:11-12) they become the victors’ property. As enslaved persons, whether they be male or female, they would have no agency and, consequently, no say over their bodies, including any right of refusal of rape. Moreover, in war and so-called conquest, sexual violence of those who are overpowered is no rarity – as is evidenced widely in the Hebrew Bible (e.g. Numbers 31:9-18; Deuteronomy 21:10-14; Judges 5:30, and many other examples), as well as in distressing events right up to the present. Gender is irrelevant, as rape is not about attraction or desire, but about dominance and humiliation. There are plenty of biblical indications of males humiliated in war and conquest, including in sexualised ways (e.g. Judges 16:25; 1 Samuel 31:4; Lamentations 5:13).

In summary, four key aspects underline my argument for including Genesis 14:1-24 in discourses of sexual violence and violation in the Hebrew Bible. In this case, the attempted sexual violation is perpetrated by men (the forces led by Chedorlaomer) against a man (Lot). First, surrounding narratives establish a thematic foundation for sexual violation; and secondly, Canaan and its people are prominently characterised as deviant. Third, Lot is juxtaposed with Abra(ha)m, and consistently falls short of him; Lot emerges as vulnerable and ineffectual – in other words, as inadequately masculine and as vulnerable, including as vulnerable to sexual aggression. This vulnerability is demonstrated also by the way he is threatened at Sodom and violated by his own daughters (Genesis 19). Finally, the use of lqh can be suggestive of kidnapping as well as sexual violation. Collectively, this points to, or at least strongly hints at, Lot in Genesis 14 being at risk of enslavement and, therewith, – not for the last time – at risk of sexual violence.

References

Gravett, S. (2004) Reading ‘Rape’ in the Hebrew Bible: A Consideration of Language, JSOT 28, no. 3 (2004): 279-99.

Greenough, C. (2021) The Bible and Sexual Violence Against Men. Abingdon, OX: Routledge.

[1] Abraham, as he is better known, is named “Abram” up until YHWH changes his name in the course of a covenant agreement (see Genesis 17:5).

[2] Melchizedek is a name made up of two Hebrew words meaning “king” and “righteous.” The name occurs also in Psalm 110:4 and in the New Testament, in Hebrews 7. Additionally, allusions to Melchizedek appear in the so-called Melchizedek Scroll found among the Dead Sea Scrolls (11QMelch or 11Q13).

[3] As part of the covenant (see note 1), God renames Sarai “Sarah” and blesses her (Genesis 17:15-16).

[4] Possibly, Lot had defected to the customs or gods of Sodom. Abra(ha)m steps in and attempts to negotiate with YHWH. Although Abra(ha)m falls short of asking specifically for YHWH to spare his nephew, he effectively asks YHWH to evaluate for himself whether Lot counts as a righteous man (18:23-33).

[5] See NRSV ad loc: “they also took Lot…”.

read more

What has the Bible to do with Deepfake Porn?

by Tasia Scrutton on

Today’s post is by Tasia Scrutton. Tasia is an Associate Professor at the University of Leeds and Director of the Centre for Philosophy of Religion and Theology.

Tasia Scrutton

The Book of Daniel recounts the story of Susanna, a married woman who is spied on by two lecherous old men while she is bathing (chapter 13). [1] Realising that they both lust after her, the men conspire to blackmail her to have sex with her. When she refuses, the men have her arrested, claiming that they saw her have sex under a tree with a young man – a ‘crime’ punishable by stoning.

Just as she is about to be put to death, Daniel – the hero of the book – interrupts, arguing that the men should be interrogated to ensure that the sentence is just. Daniel separates the two men, asking each of the men what kind of tree they saw Susanna have sex under. The first claims to have seen Susanna and her lover under a mastic tree, the second under an evergreen oak. Mastic trees are small while oaks are large; the disparity between their accounts makes it clear that they are lying and that Susanna is innocent.

The court case against Susanna involves humiliating her: the old men demand that she remove her veil in court ‘so as to sate themselves with her beauty’, and she has to submit to them both putting their hands on her head when they testify against her (Daniel 13:32 – 34). We do not know whether the story of Susanna was based on a historical episode, but it seems reasonable to think that the background state of affairs that it relates (that a woman would be stoned for alleged adultery; that the burden of proof would be on her in court to prove her innocence; that she may have been subject to humiliation during the trial) reflect the time at which it was written, the second century BCE.[2]

Despite the geographical and historical distance between this narrative and our own contemporary context, there are remarkable similarities between Susanna’s story and an all-too-real, horrifying case today. On Sunday the BBC News recounted the story of Hannah, a young woman in Australia. Hannah discovered a website called ‘The Destruction of Hannah’, which involved hundreds of photographs of her face that had been taken from social media and stitched on to violent, pornographic pictures. The website also involved polls in which hundreds of people had voted on vicious ways they wanted to abuse her. Included on the website were Hannah’s full name, her Instagram handle, the suburb she lived in and, as Hannah later found out, her phone number.[3]

Like Susanna, Hannah had an ally – in Hannah’s case in her partner Kris, with whom she set about trying to find the culprit. Kris found photographs of other women on the website who were the couple’s friends, and the couple realised that the person who posted them and created the website must be someone they knew. Eventually they whittled it down to one person, Andy, a ‘friend’ in common with the different women whose images appeared on the website.

But also like Susanna, much less happily, it turned out that the justice system was biased against Hannah. Hannah recounted her shock when she reported Andy at the police station: “We thought they’d go grab him that afternoon”, but instead she was met with disdain. One police officer asked what she had done to Andy; another suggested that Hannah simply ask him to stop. Little was done by the police to protect Hannah, and her own innocence was even called into question when she reported the crime. In so doing, the police were perpetuating a common myth of rape culture: that the victim of sexual violence must have ‘asked for it’ in some way, whether by dressing in a certain way, or doing something to hurt or anger the perpetrator.

Like Susanna, Hannah’s case also involved humiliation from the legal system that should have been protecting her: one police officer even pointed to a picture of her in a skimpy outfit and said “You look cute in this one”. Because of the lack of adequate police response, Hannah and Kris spent £10,200 in order to hire a digital forensics analyst and a lawyer, and lived for a significant period with cameras all around their house, a knife by each side of their bed, and location tracking on all Hannah’s electronic devices. Kris monitored the pornographic website in case there was any sign of escalation while Hannah reported that “I stopped having windows open because I was scared…. The world for you just gets smaller. You don’t speak to people. You don’t really go out”. Another of Andy’s victims, Jess, told the court at which Andy was eventually sentenced that, “The world feels unfamiliar and dangerous, I am constantly anxious, I have nightmares when I am able to sleep”.[4]

The Book of Daniel was written over two thousand years ago, and it is tempting to assume that the circumstances of women have improved since then. And in many parts of the world, in many respects, they have. Since 1882 women in the UK have been able to buy, sell and own property; since 1928 they have been able to vote on the same terms as men and regardless of social class; since 1991 rape within marriage has been recognised as rape and considered a crime. But in other respects women in every part of the world are still subject to many of the oppressive patriarchal circumstances recounted in the tale of Susanna. They are still subject to sexual violence, harassment and abuse; the burden of proof is often still on them to prove their innocence and/or the perpetrator’s guilt; legal systems are often still biased against them, and humiliate and blame rather than protect them. As Hannah and Jess’ reports highlight, women are still often forced to retreat into small and private spheres, not because the law explicitly dictates it, but because the ongoing threat of sexual violence so often makes it the only comfortable and safe-seeming place to be. Stories like these tell us that getting justice for women is possible. But they also tell us that, until violence against women and the threat of violence against women is no more, women throughout the world still lives in oppressive structures surprisingly similar to those experienced by biblical women like Susanna.   

Image: Susanna and the Elders, by Artemisia Gentileschi. While many artists’ depictions of Susanna and the Elder in the Baroque era depicted Susanna for an objectifying gaze aimed at igniting male desire, Gentileschi depicts Susanna empathetically, capturing the sense of Susanna’s distress. Horrifically, Gentileschi was also later forced to carry the burden of proof for a sexual crime of which she was a victim and in which the legal system was biased against her, being tortured in order to ‘verify’ her testimony against the man who raped her. Through her empathetic depiction of Susanna, Gentileschi is an ally to women who are victims of violence, depicting the emotional turmoil to which it gives rise. Artemisia Gentileschi, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

[1] The story of Susanna is ‘deuterocanonical’ or ‘apocryphal’: it appears in the Catholic and Orthodox canon of the Bible but not in the Hebrew or Protestant one. You can read the text here: Daniel, CHAPTER 13 | USCCB

[2] See Numbers 5 for an earlier biblical example of women being publicaly displayed and humiliated in a legal context

[3] Woman’s deepfake betrayal by friend: ‘Every moment became porn’ – BBC News Accessed 9th February 2025, 16:35 GMT

[4] Woman’s deepfake betrayal by friend: ‘Every moment became porn’ – BBC News Accessed 9th February 2025, 16:35 GMT

read more

The beginnings of a response to the election

by Johanna Stiebert on
The Shiloh Project logo.

Like so many others, I am reeling about the US election result, as I start – through feelings of, by turns, fear, anger, alarm, outrage and sorrow – to think through what this means and will mean. I fear for the protection of our fragile planet, for the environment, and for so many members of our human communities who will become yet more vulnerable – because of wars and genocide, and because so much is at stake, for women and their reproductive rights, for the security and futures and rights and freedoms of refugees, migrants, the LGBTQ+ community, those of persecuted citizenship status… – the list is so long.

In terms of this project, it means we need to keep going. The Shiloh Project, its activities and its blog, has always been something we, directors and collaborators, do mostly in our own time, sometimes with support from external grants. We have deliberately, in the interests of independence, taken the blog off a University-overseen site and we pay for its maintenance ourselves.

Our focus on rape culture, religion, and the Bible remains crucial – not least, because violence at the heart of rape culture, including misogyny and racism, is being emboldened, and because religion and the Bible have played and continue to play critical roles in a multitude of ways, as both weapons and resistance. Just look up some of the terrifying stuff likening the presidential candidates to Jehu and Jezebel: right there we have the whole package – rape culture, racism, misogyny, Bible, and the fierce power of religio-political factions.

Right now, as I for one, feel pretty helpless and defeated, I know we need to do much more to train and inspire and promote critical thinking and critical empathy. So, while I’m not feeling very articulate or ready for action just now, I will rally.

I will post again soon with something we can do (I’m still awaiting permission). I also want to invite posts that harness our outrage and protest in constructive ways. And, to get us started, I include below (with permission and in full) the words from a Facebook/Meta post by Eric Vanden Eykel, who says so well some of what is in my heart.

Nil bastardum carborundum (that’s the only – albeit fake! – Latin I’ve ever been taught, “don’t let the bastards grind you down”)

Johanna 

Now, here from Eric:

I have nothing pithy or profound to say about the results of this election. I am disappointed in voters and terrified for the people that Trump has promised to terrorize and marginalize.

I have spent a good deal of my life around conservatives. Heck, I was a lukewarmly committed one for a short while. I exist in a field that is built on testing ideas, arguing about them, and often agreeing to disagree. I am familiar with healthy dialogue and dispute.

This election was never about policy differences. Our country just elected a person whose platform is built on a foundation of xenophobia, misogyny, and false information. This is Trump, and it has been Trump since long before he decided to run for president in 2015. What happened in 2015 is that his hate and racism resonated with a sizable portion of the population. We do well to remember that Trump is a SYMPTOM of a much, much bigger sickness. 

This sickness is obviously the consequence of a lot of factors. One of the most glaring, in my view, is a profound failure of our educational system, on every level. How did we get to the point where grown adults have no idea how to verify sources, understand data, or do research past a handful of memes? And, for the record: possessing a degree does not make one educated. I have seen PhDs post some pretty ridiculous nonsense.

We have also lost the collective sense that certain groups both inside and outside of the United States are people with dignity. Or maybe we never really had that collective sense, but we have pretended that we did sometimes. Regardless, if you believe that a Trump presidency is going to fix inflation and that’s why you were willing to overlook all of the ways that he will harm people, this paragraph and the previous one are for you.

I’ve been mostly off social media today, but scrolling through my feed I’ve seen plenty of comments about how “real” Christians would never have voted for Trump. Let’s talk about this. <cracks knuckles>

“Christianity” does not exist in a vacuum. It does not exist apart from the contexts in which it has been practiced. There is no “normative” form of Christianity (or any other religion) that we use to judge the legitimacy of all others. There is the particular brand of Christianity that you either subscribe to or have in your mind as the “pure” form, and then there are the ones that you don’t like because of…well, take your pick. The people who voted for Trump in the United States *are* Christians. When you “other” them by saying that they aren’t “real” or “authentic,” you are being Trumpian. “Real Americans do X” and “real Christians do Y” are manipulative and nonsensical. Let’s do better.

If you are theologically minded, perhaps the thought just popped into your mind: “but what would Jesus think about all this?” The answer is simple: we don’t know, and it doesn’t matter because he lived 2,000 years ago. Jesus is a shape shifter and a Rorschach test – you can use the New Testament to argue for violence, slavery, misogyny, inclusivity, and peace. What you choose to focus on in those texts frequently says more about your own priorities and ideologies. And of course that’s ok. That’s how reading works. Just be honest about what you’re doing.

For quite a while now, I’ve been mostly staying out of politics on social media. This is not something that I have done a good job of in the past (that’s the understatement of the century!). I’m sure I’ll have moments in the future where I’ll jump back in. Facebook is an echo chamber, and I suspect the algorithm will do a good job of showing this post to people who are already inclined to agree with it. And that’s not going to affect the kind of change that we desperately need. That change isn’t happening on social media.

So: I’m disappointed and bewildered. But I remain committed to standing with all of the incredible women I am privileged to know and work with. I am committed to my LGBTQ friends and colleagues. I will continue to point out the hypocrisy of those who call for kindness and compromise while also adopting slogans like “fuck your feelings,” “trump that bitch,” and “fuck Joe Biden.” I will continue to teach my students how to spot lies and respond to nonsense arguments. I will continue to teach my kids to be compassionate, informed, intelligent, and considerate citizens.

Thanks for reading.

Eric Vanden Eykel (Facebook/Meta, 7 November 2024)

read more

Spotlight! Chris Greenough

by Johanna Stiebert on

Routledge Focus series: Rape Culture, Religion and the Bible

Chris Greenough is author of The Bible and Sexual Violence Against Men, which was first published in 2020. He is co-director of The Shiloh Project and is currently co-editing a great deal (see below!)

How do you reflect back on writing your book? 

I wrote a lot of the book during the first lockdown of the Covid pandemic in 2020. While this was a period of general worry and anxiety for the global population, writing helped me retain a daily focus and routine. The most fruitful part of working on the book, for me, was working with Caroline Blyth, Katie Edwards and Johanna Stiebert, series co-editors at that time. All of us checked in with one another regularly, sharing life updates and things to keep our spirits up! Caroline’s feedback on the drafts was immensely helpful and certainly shaped the final product.

What has been the response to your book?

Since the publication of the book, I’ve been invited to speak about its contents, including as a keynote speaker in the Finnish Institute in Rome in 2022. I’ve spoken at the Ehrhardt seminar series at the University of Manchester, too. There’s a real interest in how the biblical text speaks back to contemporary issues around masculinity, and especially male victims of sexual violence. 

How and where are you now and what are you doing or working on at present?

I’m currently working on Bible and Violence, a comprehensive volume I’m editing with Johanna Stiebert (University of Leeds), Johnathan Jodamus (University of the Western Cape) and Mmapula Kebaneilwe (University of Botswana). It’s an ambitious project, with around 120 chapters. My own chapter in the volume focuses on how religious language, imagery and biblical texts are used in the manosphere, particularly in incel forums. I’m also editing a volume with Caroline Blyth – T&T Clark Handbook of Sexualities in the Bible and its Reception. Both are due out later this year/early 2025. 

Do you have any advice for authors of future publications in this series?

Keep seeking feedback on your proposals and drafts – the editors are superb and generous!

What topics in the area of rape culture, religion and/or the Bible would you like to see a book on?

I think a focus on violence towards LGBTQ+ people would make an important contribution, given the often tense and hostile positions from religious organisations. I touch on this in some way in my book, but a volume dedicated to this topic would be significant. 

Do you have a shout-out to anyone working in this general area? Please shout about them!

The late, great David J. Clines’ work continues to be influential in the field. Deryn Guest’s work in Beyond Feminist Biblical Studies (2012, Sheffield Phoenix) continues to give me life, especially the chapter on the critical studies of masculinities. Barbara Thiede produces some of the most powerful and punchy work I’ve read on biblical masculinities. And David Tombs’ great work on the crucifixion of Jesus as sexual abuse offers much thought and reflection for those in faith-based communities and organisations. 

read more

Spotlight! Barbara Thiede

by Johanna Stiebert on

Routledge Focus Series: Rape Culture, Religion and the Bible

Barbara Thiede’s book has the title Rape Culture in the House of David: A Company of Men and was first published in 2022. The book focuses on the revered character of David, as well as on other characters in the biblical narrative he so dominates. Barbara’s close analysis exposes the rape cultures that are described in and which shaped the narrative. Barbara is now co-editor of the book series.

How do you reflect back on writing your book?

When I began writing, I focused on demonstrating that sexual violence against female characters was not the product of rogue “bad actors.” Rather, a company of men supported Bible’s rape culture through enabling, witnessing, and colluding in sexual violence. While writing, I realized the extent to which male-on-male sexualized violence similarly supported biblical rape culture. This realization generated a recent article on Saul as a trauma victim (“Hidden in Plain Sight: Saul’s Trauma Narrative in 1 Samuel,” Biblical Interpretation) and profoundly affected my forthcoming monograph, Yhwh’s Emotional and Sexual Life in the Books of Samuel. In that work, I analyze how the Israelite deity models the use of male-on-male sexual violence—not only against his enemies, but against his own men.

Writing Rape Culture in the House of David also helped me clarify the ways in which academe continues to repress the ethical interrogation of Bible, particularly in regard to sexual violence. The pages I devoted to the use of the terms rape and rape culture in my introduction helped me think about the ethical foundations this book series rests on. The outcome was an article, “Taking Biblical Authors at Their Word: On Scholarly Ethics, Sexual Violence, and Rape Culture in the Hebrew Bible,” which will be published in the Journal of Biblical Literature. That article is, in a way, partial payment of the debt I owe to the editors of this series for making the work we do possible. 

In short, writing for this series engendered enough ideas to keep me busy for years!

What has been the response to your book? 

The book has helped me connect with other scholars who are working on similar issues; in writing it, I began realizing that I belonged to a community.

Do you have any advice for authors of future publications in this series – which you now co-edit?

We are engaged in an ethical project, one that can have profound impact on real human lives. There is no reason to hold back and every reason to be precise and thorough in interrogating biblical literature for the sexual violence that goes unaddressed by most of its exegetes and readers.

What topics in the area of rape culture, religion and/or the Bible would you like to see a book on?

We have much to do in exploring male-on-male sexualized violence. Just as importantly, we have only begun to address the ethnic and racial elements that undergird rape culture in biblical literature and in our own time. And finally, we could ask how characters whose gendered presentations do not conform to binary expectations also become victims of brutal and sexualized violence in biblical literature.

Shout out!

I must first note the editorial work of Johanna Stiebert and Caroline Blyth in the series’ formative years. I benefited enormously from their labors on my behalf.

Every single one of the authors who have contributed to this series deserves a shout-out; they are forging pathways, creating a scholarly community, and developing a space for asking the ethical questions that must be made foundational to the academic project. I love reading their work!

read more

Spotlight! Ericka S. Dunbar

by Johanna Stiebert on

Routledge Focus Series: Rape Culture, Religion and the Bible

Ericka S. Dunbar’s book in the series is Trafficking Hadassah: Collective Trauma, Cultural Memory, and Identity in the Book of Esther and in the African Diaspora. It was first published in 2022 and is one of our best sellers. The book expounds how Africana female bodies have been and continue to be colonized and sexualized, as well as exploited for profit and pleasure. It shows how this contributes to adverse physical, mental, sexual, socio-cultural, and spiritual consequences for girls and women, and links present-day systemic violence to the canonised template in the book of Esther. 

How do you reflect back on writing your book? 

Writing my book was a process that I deeply value and appreciate. Publishing this book felt like a full circle moment. The topic is one that I started researching and writing about in seminary. I didn’t imagine then that I’d go on to do PhD work and that my senior project would inspire my dissertation, but that’s my story. The process allowed me to explore questions that had been with me since I was a little girl and to amplify the voices of women who taught me about sexual exploitation, rape culture, and intersectionality from their lived experiences. They transformed how I understood and interacted with the biblical text, so I was honored to share the impact of my engagement with these brave and resilient women with the world.

What has been the response to your book?

Extremely positive. I am pleasantly surprised that it was as well received in church settings as it has been in the academy. One of the most meaningful experiences I have had was people disclosing that the book gave them the courage to tell their own stories and inspired them to do more to transform rape cultures. 

How and where are you now and what are you doing or working on at present?

I am well. I am an Assistant Professor of Hebrew Bible/Old Testament at Baylor University (Waco, Texas, USA). I am currently working on a book on migration in the Bible. I recently offered a keynote at a Migration and Food Needs Symposium where I assessed a few stories in the Hebrew Bible that depict a nexus between food insecurity and migration. These stories illuminate that there are benefits and negative consequences of migration. Moreover, an intersectional lens exposes that not everyone experiences migration and food insecurity in the same way, or to the same extent, and that women often experience disproportionately negative physiological and psychological consequences because of migration. Again, these consequences intersect with food insecurity and with rape culture (such as when they result from being trafficked and sexually exploited in order to resolve food insecurity). 

Do you have any advice for authors of future publications in this series?

The world needs to encounter your voice and unique engagement with religion and the Bible. Do the work! It’s a rewarding experience to publish a book that works towards transforming toxic cultures. 

What topics in the area of rape culture, religion and/or the Bible would you like to see a book on?

Perhaps a book on eunuchs and sexual exploitation.

Do you have a shout-out to anyone working in this general area? Please shout about them!

Rhiannon Graybill. I appreciate her latest monograph, Texts After Terror: Rape, Sexual Violence, and the Hebrew Bible. 

Ericka’s book is available from Routledge. It is out in paperback. Like the eBook version, this costs just under £16. 

read more

The Woman from Judges 19

by Hilary Willett on

Hilary Willett (she/her) fights for gender justice by writing icons and reclaiming the lives of biblical women. Her most recent icon writes the unnamed woman whose story is found in Judges 19. Here, Hilary reflects on the process of writing this icon.

“The Woman from Judges 19” is one of the more confronting icons I have written. I knew I wanted to write it within a few months of learning iconography. I first read about this woman in Phyllis Trible’s book Texts of Terror.[1] Judges 19 tells the story of a woman in scripture who should be known and mourned everywhere, but is rarely discussed.

The woman in Judges 19 has no name. In many translations, she is rather crudely described as a “concubine” to a Levite man. In even less forgiving translations, she is described as an “unfaithful” concubine (ESV, NIV). But it is hard to know the precise nature of her relationship with the Levite. At times, the Levite is described as her “husband.” Some scholars speak of her as a “secondary wife.” For myself, I do not really want to describe her according to her relationship with a man. It is enough to know that this woman existed and that the biblical authors give her no name.

This unnamed woman appears to be in a fraught relationship with the Levite. While the woman from Judges 19 is not given much agency by the textual authors, she does leave the Levite man at the beginning of the narrative. She travels back home and is away for four months. This hint of autonomy, however, is short-lived. The Levite sets out with a servant, follows her to her home and is welcomed (“with joy!”) by the woman’s father. The father and the Levite enjoy food and drink for five days. The father does not uphold his daughter’s choice to live separately from the Levite in this moment, he focuses on male comfort and social expectations around hospitality.

On the afternoon of the fifth day, the woman’s father encourages the Levite to stay for another night. The Levite wants to leave (a deeply unwise decision). He takes the woman with him; there is no objection to her leaving with him in the text. As they travel, the Levite refuses to stop for the night at many of the safe havens they pass, preferring to keep travelling until they reach a Benjamanite town. Unable to travel any further, the Levite and the woman are stranded. The Levite is unable to find a place to keep them safe for the night.

Eventually, an older man takes pity on the Levite and shelters him, the woman, and the Levite’s servant. However, the house is surrounded by men who wish to rape the Levite man. To protect the Levite, the woman is cast out of the house. She is raped to death. She dies with her hands on the doorstep of the house.

But this story, as horrific as it is, gets worse.

The Levite cuts up the woman’s body and sends the pieces throughout Israel to incite war. Israel goes to war against the tribe of Benjamin, virtually wiping them out. Towns, people, and animals are destroyed, until only 600 men are left alive. Then, fearing a future where the tribe of Benjamin is eradicated, these armies kill the inhabitants of another town (Jabesh-Gilead), sparing only 400 virgin women. These women are given to the 600 Benjaminites to continue the bloodline of the tribe. The men left without wives are instructed to abduct still more women from Shiloh.

There is a reason we don’t often talk about this story. It is depraved. It is a story of extreme male violence and terror, of war justified by patriarchal sin. At the heart of this violence is a woman, whose name is absent, whose voice is silenced, and whose body is not her own. She is used, over and over, by men who care more about protecting their masculinity, upholding social expectations, and enacting vengeance. Her vulnerability is extreme – just like every innocent person who died in the fallout of war, just like every one of those 400 women from Jabesh-Gilead, just like every woman abducted from Shiloh.

To show such vulnerability in this icon, the woman is written naked. To show her stark reality, the shadows are deep; there is no colour apart from the red lines on her skin. These lines indicate where her body will be divided up. In the middle of some of the sections, a tribe of Israel is written on her body. This visual allusion drew upon butchers’ charts for inspiration, which divide up animals according to their meat cuts. Her face is hidden to highlight the absence of her name or any identifying feature. Finally, to show the utter horror of her situation, her halo is fractured, its pieces raining down on her body.

There is a reason why we should tell this woman’s story. It is because the story has not ended. There is so much war and violence occurring in the world today, so much justifying the unjustifiable. Every time we allow violence to reign in the home, in church, in society, and in politics, it is horrifying. Every time a vulnerable body is used, every time women are abused, every time innocent people become fallout or justifications for war, we need to remember this story and say very clearly: “No. No more. Never again. This ends here.”

Find more of Hilary’s icons – including the Woman from Judges 19 – at Lumen Icons: https://www.lumenicons.nz/

[1] Phyllis Trible, Texts of Terror: Literary-Feminist Readings of Biblical Narratives (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984).

read more
1 2 3 … 19
Page 1 of 19