The other day, writing a piece for a project on which I'm a team member, I had cause to ponder that much abused
(and I use that word intentionally) verse from Ephesians 5:22-23 on wifely submission. For too long, it's been used as a pillar to support toxic masculinity, and a tool to keep women down - that they 'know their place' in the apparent ordained pecking order of life. It's seen, within some
(and I hasten to say, not all!)circles of Christianity as a way of control: guilting a woman to stay within a relationship that is physically, mentally, emotionally abusive. In those particular circles, the onus is on the woman to behave appropriately: if she just does as she's told, there won't be a problem - if behaviours occur that harm, then, it's her fault. Clearly, her attitude and actions are to blame, are provocative in some way. There's a whole theology around the submission of women that serves as a template for some to excuse unacceptable behaviour - more than that: to almost sanctify violence. A pious doublespeak of 'it's because I love you that I'm doing this; it's the godly thing to do.' Outwith those particular circles of Christianity, it's played its part in wider society through conversations and attitudes around the role, or place, of women... helping to create an unholy foundation for their diminishing whether by words, or mind games, or violence, or indeed, a combination of all.
As I said, I'm pondering... but within Scotland, the statistics around violence against women are horrific. Between one in three, to five, women will be subject to domestic violence at some point in their lives; around every 10 seconds, a report of domestic violence is logged with Police Scotland; in 2021-2022, nearly 65 000 domestic abuse incidents were reported. Legally, unlike England or Wales, in Scotland it's deemed reasonable to cite suspected infidelity as a justification for lethal violence as part of a plea of provocation. There's mention further below of 'a Diane, an Emma, a Nicole'. This is reference to women who died due to domestic violence: Diane Nichol, Emma Coupland and her daughter, Nicole Anderson. The day before he killed her, Nichol’s partner was overheard by witnesses ‘You’re useless, you don’t clean, you don’t make my lunch. You better make it tomorrow.' Nichol’s injuries were so severe, the attack so violent, that they were likened, by first responders at the scene, to those sustained in a road traffic accident.
Currently, we're in Eastertide - having walked through Holy Week, the violence and death of Jesus, and through to resurrection. Within the context of that week and, in particular, Friday and the cross, there are those who champion the penal substitution theory of atonement - 'every lash of the whip, every hammer blow, etc. was because of, and for you.' Taken to its logical extreme, there's an argument to be had here for the heavenly household being an divine example of domestic violence - in this case, cosmic child abuse. It provides a blueprint that ties in far too easily with the matter of wifely submission/ male headship: as God the Father punished the Son (on our behalf... it's your fault, etc.) so, the man, who is 'head' of the house has authority to punish the subordinates in his household... There's a bizarre cognitive dissonance with a theory that, at its core, affirms 'God loves you so much that he arranged for his child to be beaten, tortured, and killed' - that same classic dissonance of the abuser of a partner or child using the old, twisted line: 'I'm only doing this because I love you.' To me, that's at odds with what we see of the rest of Jesus' life and teaching - and, to only focus upon 3 hours of his life misses the wider context of seeing him as a model for demonstrating a life fully lived - and, what life in full relationship with God as parent looks like. Summing up this viewpoint perhaps as: this is how to live - in love: with God and neighbour. It can be costly, but it will overturn the mighty, and overcome injustice, and bring in God's kin-dom.
So, I lay my own theological cards on the atonement theory table: clearly, I'm more on the 'Jesus as an example for us on how to live' model, rather than following the road that leads to the problematic violence of penal substitution. We follow One who understood power not as dominance, but as vulnerability - of offering love and service to one another. This was to be the radical blueprint pointing to a life-giving way to dismantle toxic behaviours and build a life-affirming kingdom - a kin-dom - where all are valued, respected, deemed worthy, and where there will be no more tears, violence, or death; a kin-dom and culture that celebrates abundant life, in word and in deed. Until we challenge more readily some of our more toxic theology, and dare walk down that radical road of non-violence and love, we continue to be complicit in a culture of death, not life.
Certainly, historically, some sections of the church have been complicit, either overtly, or through silence. There is, however, some movement institutionally towards not only recognising violence against women, but setting up task groups and providing resources. It's a start, but the work is ongoing. How do we address the hermeneutics of power and violence within scripture, and embedded in culture? There's a whole lot of patriarchal dismantling to do.
‘She knows her place’
She knows her place:
she needs to, for safety’s-sake.
And even then
as she diminishes herself,
becomes small,
invisible,
there’s no guarantee.
With provocation as a plea –
‘she made me do it!’
‘She deserved it!’ –
it will always be
her fault.
She knows her place
and so does he:
everywhere she goes
and who she meets;
how much she spends.
Every moment, every conversation,
accounted for
and, if not,
accusation and interrogation.
It’s because he loves her:
it’s for her own good,
the beating’s done.
She knows her place:
told by her pastor, father, man
to submit, be good,
obey.
She never measures up –
is useless, doesn’t clean, make lunch…
she’d better do, tomorrow.
She’s a Diane, an Emma, a Nicole:
she’s the 1-in-5, the every 10.*
But it’s a private matter,
a women’s issue;
not a priority.
...She knows her place.
Nik 2023
