New books – The Shiloh Project

Here’s our new Film! Rape Culture and the Bible: Scholars Reflect

by Johanna Stiebert on July 29, 2025

Today’s post is by Barbara Thiede. Barbara is the editor of a forthcoming book with the title Rape Culture and the Bible: Scholars Reflect (Routledge Focus). The book has at its centre interviews with a range of scholars and activists who have researched some aspect of rape culture, religion and the Bible. Excerpts from interviews with some of these scholars and activists are now part of a film, which you can access in the link below.

The film is here!

But first, a little background…

Since the 1980s, scholars have turned their focus to the distressing nature of depictions of sexual violence in the Hebrew Bible, as well as, though more tangentially, in the Greek Bible, and extra-canonical texts. However, the first application of the term rape culture to the Bible did not appear until 1997, in biblical scholar Harold C. Washington’s landmark article, “Violence and the Construction of Gender in the Hebrew Bible: A New Historicist Approach 1.”[1]

Despite decades-long efforts to identify the pervasive normalization of sexual assault and sexual violence in biblical texts, terms like rape and rape culture have remained controversial. Hence, this film! The film is called Rape Culture and the Bible: Scholars Reflect, which is the same title as that of the monograph which gave rise to and expands on it.

In this film, scholars and scholar-activists reflect on their own contributions to the study of rape culture and the Bible, as well as on the field’s history and legacy. They make clear the ethical foundations of this work: namely, that ancient Jewish and Christian texts reflect harmful ideologies. And, as many of them note, these ideologies continue to sanction and permit abuse that is ongoing—even pervasive—in contemporary communities, cultures, and religious institutions.

Pioneering and newer voices in the field, including, importantly, scholar-survivors themselves, demonstrate herein, again and again, how human and embodied, how personal, and how meaningful and urgent this work is.

Each participant shares in the conviction that academic work on sexual violence in biblical and related texts cannot be confined to scholarly settings. All understand that they are working with a phenomenon that extends beyond the page. Some describe their public work as a form of activism. Harold C. Washington, though, puts it like this: “It’s not activism; it’s clarity.”

The film is narrated by Johanna Stiebert and Barbara Thiede. It features Caroline Blyth, Yehudis Fletcher, Pamela Gordon, Sandie Gravett, Sarojini Nadar, Lisa Oakley, Mitzi Smith, Ken Stone, David Tombs, Eric Vanden Eykel, Harold C. Washington, Gerald West and Sithembiso Zwane.

All contributors in the film and two additional participants, too, namely Miryam Clough and Meredith J. C. Warren, feature at more length in the book forthcoming soon in the Routledge Focus series “Rape Culture, Religion and the Bible.” The book, edited by Barbara Thiede, will have the title Rape Culture and the Bible: Scholars Reflect. It will be made available open access.

Please watch and share this film. NB: The film will be shown at our event on Religion and Violence on Wednesday 8 October 2025 at the University of Leeds.

[1] See Biblical Interpretation, 5(4), 324-363. https://doi.org/10.1163/156851597X00120.

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

by Johanna Stiebert on May 19, 2025

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.”

Announcing a day of events on Religion and Violence – 8 October 2025

by Johanna Stiebert on April 9, 2025

[Updated/edited on 31 July 2025]

On Wednesday 8 October 2025, on the Leeds University campus (West Yorkshire, UK), we are organising a series of events centred on themes of Religion and Violence.

This day of activities will include presentations, panels, displays, mentoring sessions, and a campus walk, and the participation of activists, practitioners, academics, artists and students.

We have sought participation from the Emmanuel Chaplaincy Centre, Leeds Church Institute, Iqbal Centre, Centre for Religion and Public Life, and Centre for Jewish Studies. Most events will take place in the Emmanuel Chaplaincy Centre on the campus of the University of Leeds.

The events will lead up to the imminent publication (scheduled for Spring 2026) of our massive Bible and Violence Project (with Bloomsbury).

(Above – the editors of the Bible and Violence project: Johnathan Jodamus, Chris Greenough, Johanna Stiebert and Mmapula Kebaneilwe)

We have some fantastic participants who have confirmed attendance and many more are hoping and planning to attend. These include numerous participants well familiar to the Shiloh Project.

We also hope to organise other, community-centred, events in proximity to the day, to make the most of such a fabulous group being here.

On Thursday 9 October there will be a Centre for Religion and Public Life seminar at the University of Leeds, with Rabbi Dr. Barbara Thiede: 11.30-13.00, Botany House 1.03. On the afternoon of the same day there will be a workshop run by Professor David Tombs. This will be held in Otley and numbers are limited.

Rabbi Dr Barbara Thiede

The events are organised by Gregorio Alonso (History, University of Leeds) and Shiloh’s Johanna Stiebert (Theology and Religious Studies, University of Leeds), and precipitated by the coincident proposed visits to Leeds of Dr. Chauncey Diego Francisco Handy (Reed College, OR, USA) and Rabbi Dr. Barbara Thiede (University of North Carolina, Charlotte, NC, USA). Since then, the following fabulous people have also confirmed attendance: Rabbi Professor Deborah Kahn-Harris (Leo Baeck College, London), Saima Afzal (MBE, founder of Community Interest Company S.A.S. Rights), Professor David Tombs (Otago University, Aotearoa New Zealand), Dr. Sherry Ashworth (novelist), Ms Victoria Mildenhall, Rosie Dawson (broadcaster), Dr Sam Lewis (Criminology, University of Leeds, founder of FRIVA the Feminist Research Into Violence and Abuse Network), Dr. Katie Edwards (journalist, broadcaster and writer), Dr. Meredith Warren (University of Sheffield), Professor Daniel Smith-Christopher (Loyola Marymount University), Dr. Jessie Fubara-Manuel (University of Edinburgh), Dr. M. I. Rey (Babson College), Professor Joachim Kuegler (Bamberg University, Germany), Professor Sarojini Nadar (University of the Western Cape, South Africa), Dr. Johnathan Jodamus (University of the Western Cape, South Africa), Emeritus Professor Hugh Pyper, Dr. Eric Vanden Eykel (Ferrum College, VA, USA). Dr. Sarah Nicholson (University of Glasgow), and Katheryne Howe (artist and PhD candidate).

(Above: Dr. Chauncey Diego Francisco Handy)

There will be:

– displays of images and artworks…

– a mentoring session (with Barbara Thiede and Johanna Stiebert) for scholars working in an area of rape culture, religion and/or the Bible who might be interested in publishing in our Routledge Focus series …

– opportunity to see a new book on Judeophobia and the New Testament and to talk to two of the book’s editors (with Meredith Warren and Eric Vanden Eykel)…

– panel discussions…

– presentations…

– a campus walk taking in points of interest with regard to religion and violence…

– opportunity for informal networking and idea-spinning…

– engagement on how to join our energies and sense of purpose to support one another and work towards more peace, more community, and healing from religious violence and trauma.

In the evening there will be a dinner in honour and memory of Professor J. Cheryl Exum whose scholarly integrity and groundbreaking feminist scholarship, including on violence against women, has been significant for many of us. The dinner is by invitation only. (Please contact Johanna.) We are planning an edited volume with Sheffield Phoenix Press centred on Cheryl Exum’s legacy. Cheryl was director of Sheffield Phoenix from its foundation until 2016. If you would like to contribute to the volume, please contact Johanna.

For more information on the events, and planned volume, please contact Johanna: [email protected]

New Book! Behold the Men

by Johanna Stiebert on February 27, 2025

We are thrilled to tell you more about a new book, Behold the Men (SCM, 2025), co-edited by Robert Beckford and Rachel Starr,

Tell us a bit about you.

We are both contextual theologians, shaped by distinct traditions and experiences. Robert is a black liberation theologian and Rachel a (critical) white feminist theologian. Beginning work on the book, we had different questions we wanted to explore in relation to theologies of masculinities. More than a dialogue, Behold the Men brings together a wide range of voices, styles, perspectives from over a dozen contributors (including the Shiloh Project’s Chris Greenough), all offering something from their own lived experience and reflections.

What motivated you to carry out the research for this book?

Our students! When teaching on gender and theology, male students repeatedly asked what theological resources there were for exploring masculinities. There seemed to be a need for an introductory resource which would help direct students to existing material as well as identify further work to be done.

We were aware of so much insightful work within biblical studies around masculinities. In biblical studies, the conversations seem more developed than in theology. Of course, there has been work on masculinities within practical theology, particularly in pastoral theology by Mark Pryce and Delroy Hall. In spirituality also, Joseph Gelfer and others have asked critical questions about men’s spirituality movements and how they often serve to reinforce dominant, violent models of masculinity. We’ve tried to map some of these existing conversations as well as identify gaps.

The book has been out a month now, and we’ve had lots of conversations about how timely it is in relation to global political developments. But to be honest, it’s long overdue. The questions and connections we invite people to explore in the book are vital ones. We recognise the negative impact of dominant violent models of masculinity on people, politics and planet. And we recognise how significant religion is in shaping people’s identity, beliefs and behaviours. In the church and beyond, we’re aware of how gender, alongside race and other identity markers, is used to limit who people are and how they relate to others. To fix relationships of power and inequality.

Unlike many books on men and Christianity, the primary focus is not on how to get more men to attend church. Rather, it’s concerned with the type of masculinity that churches often promote, especially those churches which are keen to attract more men. So, another aim of the book is to encourage churches to explore what models of masculinity they are encouraging and whether those models are healthy, inclusive ones.

What impact do you hope it will have?

We have big hopes for this book! Already it seems to be generating conversations and helping identify further work needed. In March 2025, Queen’s is hosting an event to both launch the book and provide a space for conversation amongst people from a range of contexts who are exploring models of masculinity within Christian traditions and beyond.

Behold the Men is, of course, a play on Pilate’s words (John 19.5), mocking words that form part of the violence of the crucifixion story. They invite others to look at Jesus and see his vulnerability and failure. In some translations, a similar phrase appears in Judges 19.22, ‘behold, the men of the city’, once again serving as a preface to violence, this time carried out by the men being observed.

By naming the book, Behold the Men, we are asking readers to look at, to pay attention to men and models of masculinity. There is something to see here, something to assess and analyse. Violence, pain and loss, yes – but perhaps also possibilities for new ways of being, possibilities which emerge from paying careful attention to ourselves and others. We hope the title further invites reflection on holding, embracing, connection. What does it mean to be held or embraced as a man? How are men helped to pay attention to their own and others’ power and vulnerability in such embraces? The book, we hope, is an invitation to embrace both who we are and the potential for connection and change.

What else are you working on?

Robert: I am currently developing a multi-media project in response to the Christian based reparations projects in Britain.

Rachel: I’m delighted to be involved in the Bible and Violence project with colleagues from the Shiloh Project, especially in helping bring in Latin American biblical scholars and perspectives. With Elizabeth Gareca and Larry José Madrigal, I co-edited a recent issue of Revista de Interpretación Bíblica Latinoamericana focused on resistant and resilient readings of the Bible in contexts of violence. Coming up also is the re-publication of a journal article exploring reading Mark 7 as a white woman, first published in Practical Theology. And finally, I’m delighted to have contributed to God’s Stories As Told By God’s Children, produced by The Bible for Normal People and out March 2025.

Where can we find out more about you?

You can visit our Queen’s staff pages: Robert and Rachel. Robert can often be found on BBC Radio 4 and occasionally writes for The Guardian. Rachel kept a blog while living and studying in Argentina and, in recent years, has revived it in a low-key way.

Give us one quote to whet our appetites!

‘What might an embodied, earthed theological model of masculinity look like? …

Such a model of masculinity would begin by recognizing that men are bodies and souls – bodysouls – and must find ways of accepting and valuing their whole self (Louw 2012). It would encourage men to engage with the complexity of their bodies, lives and stories: to listen to their bodies that speak of trauma and grief, violence and pain, joy and hope. It would make space for fluid notions of sex and gender identity, roles and relationships. Queer theologies have much to offer here (Gelfer 2009). An embodied earthed model would support men in discovering and expressing their emotions, to understand that to be human is to be finite and vulnerable (World Council of Churches 2005, Louw 2012). It would bear witness to the relational nature of humanity, that all humans, men included, can only exist in relationship (World Council of Churches 2005, Anderson 2020). As Phyllis Trible (1978) observed on reading Genesis 2, the first human is not gendered, only becoming so through the creation of a second person, a partner. Gender is relational, and thus to be a man can only be understood in relation to other men, women and non-binary people; in relation to the wider world; and, for people of faith, in relation to God. Finally, such a model would challenge men to work for justice, equality and inclusion (Baker-Fletcher 1996; Anderson 2020).’ (Beckford and Starr 2025, pp. 10–20)

Book Launch and Symposium on Abortion and Catholicism

by Chris Greenough on October 17, 2024

Wednesday 27th November 2024 – 14.30 – 17.00 (GMT)

To celebrate the launch of the book, Abortion and Catholicism in Britain, by Sarah-Jane Page and Pam Lowe (Palgrave Studies in Lived Religion and Societal Challenges), the Identities, Citizenship, Equalities and Migration Centre (School of Sociology and Social Policy, University of Nottingham) will be hosting an afternoon symposium (in person and online) on abortion and Catholicism.

Speakers will include:

Sarah-Jane Page (University of Nottingham),

Pam Lowe (Aston University)

Rebecca Todd Peters (Elon University)

Emily Reimer-Barry (University of San Diego)

Dawn Llewellyn (University of Chester)

Fiona Bloomer (Ulster University).

This will be chaired by Morteza Hashemi (ICEMiC, University of Nottingham)

The Symposium will end with light refreshments for those attending in person.

Please register your place by using this link.

Routledge Focus Series: Rape Culture, Religion and the Bible…

by Johanna Stiebert on April 21, 2024

The Routledge Focus series Rape Culture, Religion and the Bible is thriving and now has twelve published volumes, with several more in production and under contract.

Each compact volume is focused on a concise topic and no more than 50,000 words in length. The volumes are becoming widely used in teaching settings and reading groups.

Over the next few weeks, to celebrate, we will profile some of the authors and volumes – and match faces with names and books authored 🙂

Thank you to Saima Afzal for creating the collage of authors and books!

New Book: The Bible and Gender-Based Violence in Botswana

by Johanna Stiebert on January 25, 2024

In this post we feature the forthcoming book The Bible and Gender-Based Violence in Botswana (Routledge, 2024) by Mmapula Diana Kebaneilwe. The book is in the Routledge Focus series, ‘Rape Culture, Religion and the Bible’, which is edited by Emily Colgan, Johanna Stiebert and Barbara Thiede. The book is out in March and ready for pre-order from 22 February 2024. (Yes, this post is early… – but we just couldn’t wait!) Read about the book here first!

How did the book come about?

The current rampancy of gender-based violence (GBV) against women and girls in Christianised Botswana prompted the writing of this book. As a Motswana woman who lives and has lived in this country since birth, I have witnessed uncountable inhumane acts of violence that disproportionately affect women and girls. I have experienced GBV myself, as have many women and girls that I know personally (family and friends), as well as those I only read or hear about on different media platforms, including the national television station, newspapers, etc. They, we have suffered GBV, and many have lost their lives at the hands of men and boys, those who are most often the perpetrators of GBV. Therefore, my identity, experiences, and research created in me the hunger to put together in print Batswana women’s stories of GBV alongside stories of GBV against biblical women. My quest has been to explore how the Bible and the Botswana faith communities it inspires intersect with traditional political landscapes to reinforce GBV.

What does activism mean to you, and how does this book relate to religion and GBV?

Activism means everything to me. I am of the view that keeping quiet about acts of violence and injustice of whatever nature, including GBV, equates to colluding with perpetrators, and hence, I choose to expose, name, and seek ways to correct such. Researching and writing on GBV, as in this book, is a way of campaigning for social change regarding women’s and girls’ rights. Their rights are being stifled by gender inequality, which has resulted in our pandemic of GBV.

The book relates to religion and GBV in that stories of GBV against women in Botswana are read alongside similar stories from the Bible, the sacred literature of Christianity, the dominant religion in Botswana. My research has revealed unbelievable resonance between GBV against textual biblical female characters and Botswana’s real flesh and blood female persons. The exercise of inter-reading or co-reading is an important one, given the authority and respect accorded the Bible in the Botswana context where many people intimately associate themselves with its faith and teachings.

What are the main themes of the book?

The main themes of the book are as follows:

Demonstrating and acknowledging that GBV is endemic in the Bible and in Botswana
Insisting that there should be no recycling of biblical injustices: read it, name it, and fix it
Reading the Bible and its stories of GBV in a quest for transformational revelation and for gender justice in Botswana and beyond.

Who would benefit from the book?

The book will benefit everyone willing to seek positive change in regard to gender equality, and is intended for a wide readership, including researchers, postgraduates, church leaders and other representatives of religious institutions, and upper-level undergraduates.

Give us a quotation from your book and tell us why you chose it?

“Like a mirror, the Bible is an accessible resource—but only if we first, use it and second, use it purposefully and constructively with integrity” (Kebaneilwe 2024, 84).

I choose the above quotation because I believe that the Bible is confrontational in nature by reflecting parts of life that we do not want to see or do not want to admit to: jealousy, passion, anger, violence, etc. Like a mirror, its transformational effect can only be accessible if we first admit what we see when we look into its pages. Ultimately, concealing, spiritualising, or twisting the rottenness in biblical texts will only serve to perpetuate the same in our world, which explains why even in Christianised contexts like Botswana, we still find heinous acts of injustice and violence, including, in this case GBV.

Congratulations to Mmapula from everyone at The Shiloh Project!

New Publication: Marriage, Bible, Violence: Intersections and Impacts

by Chris Greenough on August 15, 2023

In this post, we feature the book, Marriage, Bible, Violence: Intersections and Impacts (Routledge, 2023), by Saima Afzal and Johanna Stiebert, which is out this week! We caught up with them both for an interview.

How did the book come about?

The two of us have been friends for some years. We first met at the University of Leeds when Saima was completing her MA in Religion and Public Life, and we have collaborated on a variety of campaigns focused around preventing gender-based violence.

The book, while succinct, took longer to write than we had anticipated – not least, because of the Covid-19 pandemic. But the harder it was for us to find time for writing, the clearer the importance of this book became. We could see the harm and damage caused by instrumentalising sacred texts to afflict real people, with women and girls disproportionately represented among victims and survivors. This was exacerbated by the pandemic. Resisting such violence on multiple fronts, including with research-based arguments, drove us on.

Tell us about your collaboration – how you met, what work you do.

Like we said, we met at the University of Leeds where Johanna works, and Saima completed an MA. Saima has a wealth of practitioner experience from working in local government, child protection, and as National Crime Agency-registered expert witness and Independent Member of the Lancashire (UK) Police Authority, with a national Equality, Diversity, and Human Rights portfolio. Johanna is a biblical scholar with particular interest in topics of gender and gender-based violence. She co-founded and co-directs The Shiloh Project.

Together we co-direct (together with researchers Mmapula Kebaneilwe and Emma Tomalin) a Community Interest Company (CIC) founded by Saima, called SAS Rights. This CIC is the primary vehicle for much of our activist work. The book is our co-production and an attempt to combine our perspectives as researchers and as activists to explore the multiple ways the topics of ‘marriage’ and ‘violence’ are enmeshed. We use the Bible as our focus for demonstrating some of these intersections and the impact they have on real lives.

What does ‘activism’ mean to you, and how does this relate to religion and gender-based violence?

Activism is central to much of what we do. Religion is central to our research and central to the lives of many in the communities we work in. Each of us identifies as both scholar and activist, even if in our working lives, these carry different emphases. We share a conviction that activism benefits from a basis in research and research benefits from having impact on positive social change.

The book is based on research and analysis of biblical texts, yes. But in the course of this, we are mindful of and remind readers why these matter: that is, because recourse to the authority and ‘plain meaning’ of the Bible has had and continues to have impact on real people’s lives. Sometimes, this impact is violent and traumatic, notably when the Bible is weaponised to justify intimate partner violence. As such, the book explores aspects of family violence and domestic abuse and the role of religion within this. These discussions are increasingly in the public domain, which is a welcome development.

What are the main themes of the book?

‘Marriage’ and ‘the Bible’ are both prominent themes in day-to-day contexts, including in popular culture. One ideology very prominent in claims about ‘biblical marriage’ is complementarianism. One purpose of this book is to explore the disjuncture between, on the one hand, complementarian accounts of biblical marriage and, on the other, intersections of marriage and violence in texts from Jewish and Christian Scriptures.

We challenge authoritative complementarian claims to the Bible’s allegedly clear and unequivocal directions on marriage, and we refute these claims with analysis of the muddled and often violent depictions of marriage in the Bible itself. We focus on the influential pronouncements on ‘biblical marriage’ by the US Family Research Council and Council for Biblical Manhood and Womanhood and analyse such key texts as Genesis 1–3, Malachi 2, and Ephesians 5.

Who would benefit from the book?

This book will, we hope, appeal to students of biblical studies and theology, as well as anyone interested in research-based activism and in how sacred texts are directed towards modern day-to-day life.

Give us a quote from the book you are most pleased with and why!

Can we have two? (We are two authors, after all!)

“[In Genesis 2–3] one woman (Eve) is created to be the companion of one man (Adam), and prior to this humanity is told to be fruitful and multiply (Gen 1:28). Extraordinarily, this story is used to justify all of monogamy; heteronormativity; heterosexual, monogamous, sexually exclusive marriage to the exclusion of all other kinds of marriage; female submission to male headship; and procreation. It is also used to condemn homosexuality, non-binary gender, transgender, polygamy, feminism, abortion, divorce, and, though less often, single life, elective childlessness, and women’s ordination. Wow. For a short mythological story, featuring an anthropomorphic deity, a talking serpent, and magical fruit, in a biblical book that makes no claims to divine authorship or inspiration, a story which never makes any explicit reference to marriage, let alone feminism, or homosexuality, this is quite something…”

This quote shows up some of the brazenness of claims regularly made about the clarity of the Bible’s claims on ‘marriage’ – yet there is not even a word that captures ‘marriage’ in the whole of the Hebrew Bible!

“Often laws are characterised as ‘secular’, with religious law overriding secular law. Adherence to religious law over secular law is even seen as a proof of faithfulness to God. One woman I am working with acknowledged her husband’s abuse and abandonment. But he had made her swear on her sacred book that she would not report him to the police. She will not budge from this oath, and I know that if I suggested it I would lose her trust.”

This quote is a reflection by Saima on some of the hands-on work she does. It is a reminder of why we wrote this book.

The book is in the Routledge Focus series Rape Culture, Religion and the Bible, edited by Emily Colgan, Johanna Stiebert, and Barbara Thiede. Books in the series are concise (between 25,000 and 50,000 words – all inclusive) and explore some aspect of rape culture (e.g., sexualised microaggressions, sexual violence) alongside some aspect of religion and/or the Bible. We are very interested in proposals exploring religions other than those associated with the Bible. If you would like to find out more, discuss this, or propose a volume, please contact Johanna: [email protected].

If you are interested in the topic of marriage, Bible, and violence, you might also like Helen Paynter’s book, The Bible Doesn’t Tell Me So. It is reviewed on our blog, here.

The Crucifixion of Jesus: Torture, Sexual Abuse, and the Scandal of the Cross – Book Review

by Miryam Clough on November 18, 2022

Review of The Crucifixion of Jesus: Torture, Sexual Abuse, and the Scandal of the Cross. David Tombs, Routledge, 2023 (open access).

The idea that Jesus was a victim of sexual violence will be novel and startling to many. Professor David Tombs opens his monograph The Crucifixion of Jesus: Torture, Sexual Abuse, and the Scandal of the Cross by observing that contemporary Christians are unlikely to fully appreciate the shame and degradation involved in first-century Roman crucifixions. Indeed, popular perceptions of the crucifixion draw more on centuries of sanitised artistic representation than on any in-depth interrogation of the sparsely detailed texts of the Gospels. Countless Christians over the centuries have encountered the theology and language of the cross on a daily basis without being confronted and haunted by its torturous, bloody, and excruciatingly humiliating reality.

This is a challenging subject to engage with, but one which is well-worth the effort and which, arguably, has significant implications for the future health of the church. The shift in thinking required to accommodate Tombs’ suggestion that Jesus was sexually abused relies on understanding that crucifixion was a practice designed to utterly degrade and humiliate those subjected to it. It was a highly political act and Jesus was, from the time of his arrest, a political prisoner. The torture, humiliation and cruelty involved in Roman crucifixions constituted a deliberate political strategy, designed to invoke profound revulsion and terror in onlookers and to thereby ensure compliance with Roman rule.

The first three chapters of this insightful study examine accounts of recent and ancient torture and execution practices, including Greco-Roman crucifixions, to shed light on the probability that sexual violence was integral to the torture endured by Jesus at the hands of Roman soldiers. Tombs makes the case that the stripping of Jesus (both implicit and explicit in the Gospel accounts) was itself a form of sexual violence, as anyone who has been subjected to such a practice will likely agree. Next, he argues that, while we cannot know for sure whether Jesus was subjected to further sexual violence, there is significant evidence from both recent and ancient accounts of torture and execution practices to suggest that this was highly likely.

Tombs’ earlier work on this theme has provoked mixed reactions.[1] As a fellow author on hard subjects, I empathise with Tombs’ observation that this book was difficult to write. In researching sexual violence, we encounter the distressing, the disturbing, the utterly barbaric. We read accounts that can never be unread, we amass a mental archive of images that can never be unseen. Many, even when prompted, will not want to front up to this subject. Tombs recognises that his hypothesis has been challenged in the past and this has prompted him to make his case thoroughly. He is clear that this book will be difficult to read. Indeed, he cautions readers at several points in the book that they may prefer to skip some of the more distressing content in the first three chapters. So why write it? Why do any of us confront the degradation and pain of sexual violence? Why do we not leave it under the centuries-old carpet where it has traditionally been swept? Why, moreover, do we not keep the crucifixion respectable?

Tombs writes this challenging book for two very sound reasons: because the Bible matters, and because confronting violence and sexual violence matters. He offers this book ‘with the hope that a reading of Jesus’ experience which is attentive to sexualised violence can contribute to better responses to sexual violence.’ In so doing, he is lifting this ‘unspeakable violence’ out of ‘shame, stigma and silence’ (p. 2). This is a powerful motivation. Arguably, it is only by speaking the unspeakable – by voicing the violation of the divine – that the sexual violence that continues to plague the church will diminish.

Well-versed in liberation theology and its demand that Christians recognise the suffering of the cross in the lives of the oppressed and are thereby called to action, it was on reading the account of the sexualised torture and execution of a woman in El Salvador and in the context of increasing public awareness of sexual violence as a tool of conflict and genocide in the 1990s that Tombs identified a gap in liberation theology. There was little reference to sexual violence in torture and none to the sexual violence of the cross. ‘How,’ Tombs asked, ‘were those who suffered sexualised violence to be helped down from the cross? How was this possible if the form of crucifixion they experienced was never spoken about?’ (p. 4). Tombs’ subsequent study of the torture practices and abuses of authoritarian Latin American regimes informed his developing theology of the cross as a locus of sexual violence, leading him to propose two things: that public crucifixions were a deliberate strategy of state terror and that forced nudity and sexual violence were integral to this.

Tombs utilises accounts of recent and ancient torture, including assertions by Seneca (first century CE) that some crucifixions involved extreme sexual violence, to inform his hypothesis that it is highly likely that Jesus was sexually violated (in addition to the strippings, which themselves constitute abuse) during the deliberately dehumanising public spectacle of torture and execution. It is in the first three chapters that Tombs’ lays out the groundwork for his assertions, before turning, in chapter 4 to the ongoing issues which accompany sexual violence – victim blaming and stigma – and, crucially, to the recovery of human dignity which is Tombs’ ultimate aim.

Drawing on Tombs’ earlier work and more recent research, chapters 1-3 follow the crucifixion narratives to address, in turn, the stripping, mocking and crucifixion of Jesus that are explicit in the texts. The forced nudity of prisoners at Abu Ghraib and discussion of biblical, Jewish, Greek, and Roman attitudes to nudity inform chapter 1. Chapter 2 examines recent reports of abuse of detainees and ancient accounts of the widespread practice of rape during war to support his view of the likelihood that Jesus was further abused after being stripped naked, a possibility supported by evidence that, in the practice of torture, stripping is generally a precursor to additional acts of sexual violence. While we do not know for sure what Jesus endured in the praetorium, we do know that he endured it at the hands of a ‘cohort’ of soldiers: some 500 men primed to participate in a violent and bloody spectacle. Chapter 3 contrasts the portrayal of the crucifixion in Christian art with the sparse details of the Gospel texts before exploring the development of Roman crucifixion in relation to earlier impalement punishments and suspension executions, again viewing this information through the lens of more recent events.

In his review of the edited volume When Did We See You Naked? Jesus as a Victim of Sexual Abuse,[2] Robin Gill appears to have overlooked the fact that Tombs treats the stripping and the possibility of further sexual violence separately as, respectively, fact and well-informed supposition.[3] The Gospel accounts are clear that the stripping occurred and this Tombs correctly, in my opinion, describes as sexual abuse. Because we are not told the detail of what happened at the praetorium, Tombs is careful to note that any further sexual violence was possible, indeed likely, but that we cannot know for sure. I find his argument indisputably compelling. Human beings have the capacity for indescribable violence, especially when they are seeking to maintain power. Philip Zimbardo demonstrated in his analysis of the abuse of prisoners at Abu Ghraib how readily many of us become bystanders, if not active collaborators, in the perpetration of gross injustice and harm if the conditions support it.[4]

This book will, and arguably should, be hugely disturbing for all who brave its pages. Some readers will undoubtedly find it triggering and may, as Tombs suggests, choose to avoid the more explicitly violent material. However, it is a book that theologians and church leaders would do well to engage with in full if they are able to. For those for whom the accounts of violence necessary to establish Tombs’ argument will be too hard to read, a gentler approach might be to consider the crucifixion narratives through Bible study, such as the one designed by Tombs in the Open Access resource Accompanying Survivors of Sexual Harm: A Toolkit for Churches (ed. Emily Colgan and Caroline Blyth, The Shiloh Project, 2022). Tombs also includes a contextual Bible study in chapter 4 of this book.

Some will regard Tombs’ arguments with abhorrence. In the culture of toxic masculinity and homophobia that still persists in the church, the notion that the male saviour was sexually violated will be anathema – ‘real men’ don’t get raped. Additionally, reminders of both sex and death heighten our own innate mortality salience, arousing in us a terrifying awareness of our human fragility – which is arguably why images of the crucifixion over the centuries have been sanitised – and Tombs will be taking some readers beyond their comfort zones in this respect. A crucified God who was also sexually violated will shake the foundations for some.

In chapter 4, ‘Resurrection,’ Tombs outlines the value of this difficult work. Hostility to the idea of Jesus as a victim of sexual abuse is indicative, Tombs notes, of the way in which those people may perceive victims of sexual harm. Historically, churches have sought hide abuse within faith-based settings and to stigmatise and shame victims. Change in this regard is slow. Jesus’ experience ‘invites churches to develop a more serious theological conversation on sexual violence and upholding human dignity.’ In making the theological connections between Jesus’ suffering as a victim of sexual as well as physical harm and unspeakable public humiliation, those who struggle with this concept or who are prone to victim-blaming may be helped to reassess their beliefs and consequently to take a more informed and compassionate approach to the issue of sexual harm, and churches may be brought to an awareness of the damage caused by secondary victimisation (the harm caused when victims are not believed or are stigmatised). Theological reflection on Jesus as a victim of sexual violation invites churches towards both repentance and redress. This chapter is arguably the most powerful and I find Tombs’ theology of the cross and resurrection (albeit necessarily brief in this focus series) more exciting, more grounded, and more credible than any I have encountered before now.

The notion that Jesus, too, suffered sexual violence will not resonate with everyone who has experienced sexual harm (see p. 76). One survivor of church-based abuse I spoke to felt that Jesus had not experienced the harm that comes from being abused in secret, of having to maintain the secret, and of being disbelieved and stigmatised for eventually speaking out. For others, Tombs’ hypothesis may be of comfort, and if one survivor of sexual violence is helped by the idea that Jesus understood, from painful personal experience, what she too has been through, then Tombs has done his job. But more than this, if this work enables churches – congregations and church leaders – to recognise that even Jesus suffered sexual harm – it follows that they must take a more compassionate, a more informed, and a more responsible approach to the scourge that is sexual violence in the church. If Jesus suffered sexual harm, the stigma begins to fall away. If, conversely, Christians cannot accept the possibility that Jesus too, was a victim of sexual violence, then they have not truly understood the incarnation.

Feature image: “Cross Church 03,” courtesy of JoLynne Martinez on Flickr (https://flic.kr/p/2gpbXAV)

[1] In his review of When Did We See You Naked? Jesus as a Victim of Sexual Abuse (ed. Jayme R. Reaves, David Tombs and Rocío Figueroa, London: SCM Press, 2021) for the Church Times (‘What the Soldiers Did,’23 July 2021) Robin Gill commented that while some readers supported Tombs’ suggestion that Jesus was sexually abused as a ‘natural corollary’ of the strippings mentioned in the Gospels, others ‘felt that it directed attention away from the sheer barbarity of Roman crucifixion or that it trivialised the experience of powerless women who have been brutally raped and/or genitally mutilated.’ This statement strikes me as somewhat anomalous in two respects. First, in its inference that the abusive act of stripping a person naked in the presence of a hostile crowd is not, in itself, barbaric, and second, in its assertion that Jesus being sexually violated and humiliated by a cohort of soldiers in the lead-up to a drawn-out public execution in some way detracts from the experiences of women who have been raped or mutilated.

[2] Edited by Jayme R. Reaves, David Tombs and Rocío Figueroa, London: SCM Press, 2021.

[3] Gill, ‘What the Soldiers did.’

[4] Philip Zimbardo, The Lucifer Effect: How Good People Turn Evil, New York: Random House, 2007.

Q&A with David Tombs about his new book – available open access

by Johanna Stiebert on November 9, 2022

There is a new book in our Routledge Focus series, ‘Rape Culture, Religion and the Bible’ and this one is available from today and open access.

The author is David Tombs and the book’s title is The Crucifixion of Jesus: Torture, Sexual Abuse, and the Scandal of the Cross (London: Routledge, 2023).

For the open access ebook DOI: https://doi.org/10.4324/9780429289750

For further information and the hardback: www.routledge.com/9780367257651

Tell us about yourself. How does your book relate to your work as a whole and how did this book come about?

When I was an undergraduate studying Philosophy and Theology I picked up a copy of Gustavo Gutiérrez’s book A Theology of Liberation in Blackwell’s bookshop in Oxford. It is a classic work, but I had no real idea of that when I first looked at it. Instead, I was drawn to the distinctive cover image. I had visited Peru the previous summer and the cover captured what I had seen there in two readily recognisable scenes. One scene showed a poor community, the other showed a row of military police. It was not what I expected from a theology book.

I started reading the work of Gutiérrez and then the works by other liberation theologians in the library. I was struck by the passion and compassion they brought to their work and their belief that theology can make a radical difference when it is rooted in what they called ‘an option’ for the oppressed. Their concern for poverty and injustice guided a liberative approach to theological and biblical work. From then on, I have been interested in how faith and theology can make a difference, and how reading the Bible from a specific context can offer new insights into the text. In my theological work in the UK, then in Ireland, and now in New Zealand, I continue to seek insights from liberation and contextual theologies for my thinking and writing.

The specific prompt for the book dates back to the 1990s. I was a PhD student at Heythrop College, London, and working on liberation theology and Christology. Following a visit to El Salvador in the summer of 1996, I read a story of a sexualised execution that occurred during the war in the 1980s. It was a very confronting testimony and I wanted to understand more. First I asked myself why it had happened. Then I asked why it did not get more attention. Even a theologian as insightful and courageous as Jon Sobrino who had worked in El Salvador for many years seemed to be silent on this type of violence. So I read more about sexualised violence during torture and state terror in Latin America. Then I started to explore the relevance of this to crucifixion. I first published on this in the article ‘Crucifixion, State Terror, and Sexual Abuse’ (1999) (see here). The book has been an opportunity to revisit this and develop the argument further.

Last year, I co-edited the book When Did We See You Naked? Jesus as a Victim of Sexual Abuse (SCM 2021) with Jayme Reaves and Rocío Figueroa. Scholars from Australia, the Bahamas, Botswana, Indonesia, Ireland, the Netherlands, New Zealand, South Africa, the UK, and the USA, explored implications of acknowledging Jesus as a victim of sexual abuse. It was an opportunity to work with a fantastic group of colleagues and a really inspirational learning experience. It helped me see more clearly what a book like The Crucifixion of Jesus could support this area of research.

What are the key arguments of your book?

The book investigates some disturbing elements of crucifixion that have only recently started to get attention. It starts with the Salvadoran execution I just mentioned and the impact this had on me. I then turn in Chapter 1 to the strippings of Jesus. These include the multiple strippings by the cohort of soldiers in Pilate’s palace (the praetorium) recorded by Mark and Matthew. In addition, there is the stripping of Jesus at the cross recorded by all four gospels. The strippings and the enforced nakedness of crucifixion are well attested in the gospels, and I would argue that the facts of these alone are compelling reasons for acknowledging that Jesus was a victim of sexual abuse.

I then ask whether Jesus might have experienced other forms of sexualised violence beyond the strippings. The evidence for further violence is less direct, and the answers less clear-cut than the strippings, but the questions are worth asking. Forced stripping often leads to further violence and Chapter 2 investigates whether there might be more to the mocking than is usually assumed. I look at what might be learnt from the rape, murder, and dismemberment of the Levite’s wife in Judges 19, and also at why the mockery that followed the death of Herod Agrippa in 44 CE might be relevant to the mockery of Jesus.

Chapter 3 turns to the horror and shame associated with crucifixion. It looks at passages by the Roman writer Seneca that suggest sexualised violations during crucifixion. This is explored with attention to ancient impalement practices and the common belief that the Romans used crucifixions but not impalement. I think the reality might have been more complicated, but the evidence is not easy to interpret. It requires more research by specialists and I hope to encourage this work by others. Although Jesus’ experience of strippings and enforced nudity provide strong reasons for seeing him as a victim of sexual abuse, we don’t know—and will probably never know—whether there were further forms of sexualised violence in the mocking and crucifixion.

Chapter 4 discusses why this sort of research matters and what positive value might come from it. These are questions that I have often been asked; I discuss them with attention to Christian belief in resurrection. I believe that recognising Jesus’ experience can help churches address victim-blaming and the perceived stigma associated sexual violence. For example, it can strengthen positive messages to survivors like ‘You are not alone’ and ‘You are not to blame’. Of course, churches should not need the experience of Jesus to prompt them to respond well to survivors. But in my experience it can be an effective way to open up a deeper conversation on how churches can do better.

What do you hope readers will take away from your book?

I am a theologian not a biblical scholar, so whilst I found the biblical discussion very interesting, and I hope it will be of interest to others, I also hope that some readers will be interested in the theological issues the book raises. For example, how this reading might offer a better understanding of Jesus as fully human and vulnerable, or how it might challenge the assumption that the cross must be good. Sobrino speaks of ‘taking victims down from the cross’. I hope the book will encourage readers in churches to think about how recognition of Jesus’ experience might guide a better response to sexual violence.

Please give us a quotation that captures something significant about your book and will make readers want to read the rest.

“This has been a difficult book to write, and it will almost certainly be a difficult book to read. But the book is driven by the conviction that the biblical text matters. It is also shaped by the belief that recognising and confronting violence—especially sexual violence—matters’”(p. 2).