Reclaiming our Stories: Dinah

By Sarah Locke

Read more of Dinah's story: Genesis 34

Now Dinah, the daughter Leah had borne to Jacob, went out to visit the women of the land. When Shechem son of Hamor the Hivite, the ruler of that area, saw her, he took her and raped her. His heart was drawn to Dinah daughter of Jacob; he loved the young woman and spoke tenderly to her. And Shechem said to his father Hamor, “Get me this girl as my wife” (Genesis 34:1-4).

It feels like I've opened every Bible study with comments about how each of these women are pawns in someone else's story. Dinah does not seem to be much different. 

Dinah is the only daughter mentioned of all of Jacob's children. She is Leah's daughter, the youngest of Leah's children. Her fate is similar to what we might expect, given the stories that we have already read throughout Genesis. She went out to visit with some women, she is raped by a powerful man, he demands that she become his wife. The narrative is a bit different after this, though, as her brothers seem to be protective of her. So they devise a plan to vindicate her, killing all of the Shechemites while they are sore from circumcision. Jacob is furious with his sons, fearing that he will be despised throughout the country because of what they have done. But the brothers still defend their sister, saying "should he have our sister treated like a prostitute?" 

Dinah's story is told as a warning for women: if you go out in public, especially with other women, you might be raped. It is much better, then, to stay in the privacy and protection of your own home, relying on your family and especially the men in your family to protect you and make decisions for you. 

Of course this is not much different from much of what we teach young girls today. When I went to college, my dad gave me a taser and pepper spray, claiming that I would need to defend myself against men who would want to harm me. I don't remember my parents remarking much about my clothing as I grew up, but I often heard my friends and classmates remark that a girl was "asking for it" in the way that she dressed. Before I entered college, I was given an array of ways to protect myself (apparently from the ever-present threat of men) when I'm leaving work: 

• Don't enter an elevator occupied by a single man. 
• Don't park in a public garage, there are too many hiding places for predators. Park on a well-lit street. 
• Always take your keys out of your bag before you leave your workplace so you don't have to hesitate outside. 
• Put your keys between your fingers so you can slash at someone if they attack you. 
• Always have your phone out in case you need to fake a phone call with someone. This will sometimes stop a person from following you. (There are even videos for this exact purpose.) 
• Lock your car as soon as you get inside. 
• If a cop pulls you over, put on your blinkers and get to a well-lit area, preferably with lots of people around. If you can't, keep your blinkers on and call the dispatcher to confirm there are police in the area in case it is someone posing as a cop, preying on women. 
• Take a woman-specific self-defense course. 
• Don't ever respond to a person catcalling you, especially when you are alone.  

If these seem ridiculous or overboard, I'd recommend chatting with your sister, wife, girlfriend, mom, daughter, or woman coworker. There is a whole other set of rules about going out at night to a restaurant or bar. (They are actually marketing to our fear now-- click here for an example of what women can put on their cups so they won't be drugged.)

Women are taught to fear being in public spaces, especially alone. Dinah's story is often used as a cautionary tale against leaving the protection of your (man-centered) family. It is important to note that the only part of the story that gives Dinah any agency is the very beginning: "Dinah... went out..." For the rest of the story, she had things done to her. For many, this emphasizes that when women are given choices and agency, only terrible things can come from it. Her rape, commentators imply, was her own fault for leaving her family and cavorting with other women in town. 

Questions to consider: 
If you are a woman, what kind of "rules" do you follow to stay safe? 
If you are a man, do you follow any of these same "rules?" 
If we are called to both mercy (responding to violence against women) and justice (preventing violence against women), what is the call of God's people?  

______________

"Dear daddy, I will be born a girl. Please do everything you can so that won't stay the greatest danger of all."

The following video is graphic and contains strong language. However, it is poignant and speaks volumes about the issues women face today. For more statistics about violence again women, visit the Rape, Abuse, & Incest National Network (RAINN) website. 

Reclaiming our Stories: Hagar

By Sarah Locke

Read more of Hagar's story: Genesis 16; 21:1-21

The story of Hagar that we read in Genesis consists of three main acts. It is a difficult story to read for some, as it involves multiple layers of abuse.  

Act I - Sarai gives her slave-girl Hagar to Abram in order for Sarai to “obtain children by her” (Genesis 16:2) and Hagar becomes pregnant. Sarai becomes jealous, is cruel to Hagar, and Hagar runs away (Genesis 16:6). 

Act II - An angel of the Lord appears to Hagar and speaks directly with her, making an annunciation and giving a name to her child. God tells Hagar to return to Abram and Sarai. Hagar names the Lord, returns to Abram, and gives birth to Ishmael (Genesis 16:7-16). 

Act III - Sarah gives birth to Isaac and, after some time, sends Hagar and Ishmael away. God saves Hagar and Ishmael in the wilderness. God is with the boy as he grows up and Hagar finds him a wife in Egypt (Genesis 21:1-21). 

The first thing that I recognize about Hagar’s story is that I should not be the one reflecting on it and giving my own perspective. I am, for all intents and purposes, Sarai in this story. I have a comfortable home, I have privilege and status inherent in my ethnicity (whiteness for me, Hebrew for Sarai), I hold promises from God that I do not always understand or believe. Who am I to shed light on Hagar’s story? When people who look like me have spent the majority of history using, oppressing, and discarding women in positions like Hagar’s? 

Perhaps all I can do is confront the harsh reality of this story and the ways in which it has been distorted throughout history. Perhaps I can allow space for Hagar to speak into her own story. 

This story is about two women pitted against one another, under the forces and pressures of a patriarchal society. But unlike we hear in this text, Hagar “foreigner” is not just some random slave woman. Many rabbinical commentators claim that Hagar is actually pharaoh's daughter, given to Sarai when she was part of the pharaoh's harem (Genesis 12:15). Some rabbis even say that Hagar’s true name is Keturah, and that when Sarah died Abraham sought her out, married her, and had six more children with her. 

It stands to reason that many rabbinical commentators regard Hagar with much more dignity than Paul, who uses Hagar as an example of being in bondage to the law, while Sarah is freed by grace (Galatians 4). Later Christians like Augustine, Aquinas, and Wycliffe continue to abuse an already abused woman, claiming that she is "unredeemed." Perhaps Christianity’s hatred toward Hagar has more to do with her part as the matriarch of the Islamic faith (the prophet Muhammed would come through Ishmael). 

Whatever the reason, Hagar has received very little sympathy and almost no voice in the Christian tradition. 

In fact, the only time that Hagar speaks in the entire Genesis narrative is when she is approached by a messenger of the Lord in the wilderness, stating that she is running away from her mistress and when she names God (Genesis 16:8, 13). Then God sends her back to her abusers. Read that again. God sends her back to her abusers. I imagine this is why Phyllis Trible includes this story in her book Texts of Terror-- not even God is on the side of the oppressed in this story.

This encounter with the divine is remarkable. Hagar is the first woman to receive an annunciation from God and “the only person in the Bible who named God... [and] the one doing the naming has a kind of power over the one who is named” (Rev. Dr. Lynn Japinga, Preaching the Women of the Old Testament). She is also the only woman to receive a divine promise of descendants. 

How is it that a woman with this much power in the wilderness, even power over God, is held captive and silenced in the bondage of Sarai and Abram? Perhaps this woman is more than a slave, perhaps she is the daughter of the Pharaoh, perhaps she is one who is seen by God and redeemed by the birth of her son. Perhaps we owe her the dignity of telling her story truthfully and fully every time we encounter it. 

Questions for reflection: 

Have you ever lost your voice or the ability to tell your own story? Has it ever been taken from you? 

What can we do to advocate for and amplify the voices of minorities and the historically oppressed? How can we tell stories more truthfully and fully?