What do you think?
Rate this book
[Texts of Terror Paper (Overtures to Biblical Theology): Literary Feminist Readings of Biblical Narratives] [Author: Trible, Phyllis] [March, 1984]
Paperback
1 person want to read
About the author
Unknown Author
4m books493 followersBooks with known authors are imported from Amazon to this profile. Please do not merge this profile into Unknown.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 of 1 review
November 25, 2024
A FEMINIST THEOLOGICAL INTERPRETATION OF FOUR OLD TESTAMENT STORIES
Theology professor Phyllis Trible wrote in the Preface to this 1984 book, “I have conceived this book as a companion to ‘God and the Rhetoric of Sexuality.’ … The two volumes share a feminist perspective, a literary critical methodology, and the subject matter of female and male in the Hebrew Scriptures. Yet the studies differ in emphasis and spirit. The first is a time to laugh and dance; the second, a time to weep and mourn… Without the joy of the first book, I should have found unbearable the sorrow of the second. Ancient tales of terror speak all too frighteningly of the present. If terror dominates the study, theory does not. Only a brief introduction stands between the reader and the stories, and no conclusion discusses what is narrated. Scholarly debate, methodological defense, and theological disputation seldom appear in the text… The resultant message is clear. Storytelling is sufficient unto itself.” (Pg. xiii)
She continues in the Introduction, “In this book my task is to tell sad stories as I hear them. Indeed, they are tales of terror with women as victim… these narratives yield four portraits of suffering in ancient Israel: Hagar, the slave used, abused, and rejected; Tamar, the princess raped and discarded; an unnamed woman, the concubine raped, murdered, and dismembered; and the daughter of Jephthah, a virgin slain and sacrificed… From the start, certain theological positions constitute pitfalls. They center in Christian chauvinism.
“First, to account for these stories as relics of a distant, primitive, and inferior past is invalid. Resoundingly, the evidence of history refutes all claims to the superiority of a Christian era. Second, to contrast an Old Testament God of wrath with New Testament God of love is fallacious. The God of Israel is the God of Jesus, and in both testaments resides tension between divine wrath and divine love. Third, to subordinate the suffering of the four women to the suffering of the cross is spurious. Their passion has its own integrity; no comparisons diminish the terror they knew. Fourth, to seek the redemption of these stories in the resurrection is perverse. Sad stories do not have happy endings.” (Pg. 1-2)
She explains, “As a critique of culture and faith in light of misogyny, feminism is a prophetic movement, examining the status quo, pronouncing judgment, and calling for repentance. This hermeneutic engages scripture in various ways. One approach documents the case against women.. By contrast, a second approach discerns within the Bible critiques of patriarchy. It upholds forgotten texts and reinterprets familiar ones to shape a remnant theology that challenges the sexism of scripture. Yet a third approach incorporates the other two. It recounts tales of terror IN MEMORIAM to offer sympathetic readings of abused women. If the first perspective documents misogyny historically and sociologically, this one appropriates the data poetically and theologically. At the same time, it continues to search for the remnant in unlikely places, Such an approach characterizes these essays. It interprets stories of outrage on behalf of their female victims in order to recover a neglected history, to remember a past that the present embodies, and to pray that these terrors shall not come to pass again. In telling sad stories, a feminist hermeneutic seeks to redeem the time.” (Pg. 3)
She first takes up the story of Hagar (Gen 16:1-16), and observes, “the narrated ending continues to undermine Hagar. First, though it restores her name, it silences her voice. Second, it stresses not her motherhood but the fatherhood of Abram, whom the messenger of Yahweh never mentioned. Third, in reporting that Abram named the son Ishmael, it strips Hagar of the power that God gave her... Moreover, the ending undercuts Sarai. The one who spoke of building up herself, not Abram, through Hagar’s child receives no mention at all. Neither Hagar not Sarai has a son whom he names Ishmael. Patriarchy is well in control.” (Pg. 19)
She summarizes, “her story depicts oppression in three familiar forms: nationality, class, and sex. Hagar the Egyptian is a maid; Sarah the Hebrew is her mistress. Conflicts between these women revolve around three males. At the center is Abraham, their common husband… Through their husband and his two sons these females clash… Hagar is powerless because God supports Sarah. Kept in her place, the slave woman is the innocent victim of use, abuse, and rejection… Truly, Hagar the Egyptian is the prototype of not only special but all mothers in Israel… Hagar foreshadows Israel’s pilgrimage of faith through contrast.” (Pg. 28)
Moving to Tamar (2 Sam 13:1-22), she concludes, “The narrator [states]… "There were born to Absalom three sons and one daughter; her name was Tamar.” [14:27] Strikingly, the anonymity of all the sons highlights the name of the lone female child. In her Absalom has created a living memorial for his sister. A further note enhances the poignancy of his act. Tamar, the daughter of Absalom, ‘became a woman beautiful to behold.’ From aunt to niece have passed name and beauty so that rape and desolation have not the final word in the story of Tamar.” (Pg. 55)
Of the unnamed woman in Judges 19:1-30, she comments, “The power struggle between the two men highlights the plight of the woman who brought them together but whom they and the storyteller have ignored. Unlike her father, the daughter had no speech; unlike her master, the concubine has no power. A journey ‘to speak to her heart’ has become a visit to engage male hearts, with no speech to her at all. With the master set out to do, he has forsaken to enjoy hospitality and competition with another man. The woman suffers through neglect.” (Pg. 69) She continues, “[In v. 11-15] They do not ask her preference for the night. If the attendant is subordinate to the master, she is inferior to them both. Her sex as female, not her status as servant, makes her powerless. Like the donkeys, she belongs only in the ‘they’ who turn aside ‘to go in and spend the night in Gibeah.’” (Pg. 70)
She goes on, citing Genesis 19. “These two stories show that rules of hospitality in Israel protect only males. Through Lot entertained a man alone, the old man also has a female guest and no hospitality safeguards her. She is chosen as the victim for male lust… in neither of these stories does the male host offer himself in place of his guests. Constant only is the use of innocent and helpless women to guard and gratify men of all sorts… Lot’s proposal was rejected, not out of concern for the virgin daughters but out of animosity that a sojourner should try to adjudicate the crisis… Ironically, male anger against another male spared Lot’s daughters the horrors for which he had volunteered them.” (Pg. 75)
She concludes, “Her body has been broken and given to many. Lesser power has no woman than this, that her life is laid down by a man.” (Pg. 81) She continues, “Entrusted to Israelite men, the story of the concubine justifies the expansion of violence against women. What these men claim to abhor, they have reenacted with vengeance. They have captured, betrayed, raped, and scattered four hundred virgins of Jabesh-gilead and two hundred daughters of Shiloh… Israelite males have dismembered the corporate body of Israelite females. Inasmuch as men have done it unto one of the least of women, they have done it unto many. Tribal Israel failed to direct its heart to the concubine.” (Pg. 83-84)
But she also notes, “the story of Ruth follows immediately the story of the concubine… the book of Ruth … is a study in hospitality, but this time a female version… The absence of misogyny, violence and vengeance in the two stories, juxtaposed to the Benjamite traditions speaks a healing word in the days of the judges…. Though the presence of the latter group cannot erase the sufferings of their sisters, it does show both the Almighty and the male establishment a more excellent way. To direct the heart of these stories to the concubine, then, is to counsel redemption.” (Pg. 85)
She summarizes, “Violence and vengeance are not just characteristics of a distant, pre-Christian past; they infect the community of the elect to this day. Woman as object is still captured, captured, raped, tortured, murdered, dismembered, and scattered. To take to heart this ancient story, then, is to confess its present reality.” (Pg. 87)
She turns to the daughter of Jephthah (Judges 11:29-40), and observes, “Whereas the female who has never known a man is typically numbered among the unremembered, in the case of the daughter of Jephthah the usual does not happen… The alteration comes through the faithfulness of the women of Israel… The unnamed virgin child becomes a tradition in Israel because the women with whom she chose to spend her last days have not let her pass into oblivion… The narrative postscript, then, shifts the focus of the story from vow to victim, from death to life, from oblivion to remembrance. Remarkably, this saga of faithlessness and sacrifice mitigates, though it does not dispel, its own tragedy through the mourning of women.” (Pg. 106-107)
This book will appeal to feminist-sympathizing persons studying such controversial OT stories.
Theology professor Phyllis Trible wrote in the Preface to this 1984 book, “I have conceived this book as a companion to ‘God and the Rhetoric of Sexuality.’ … The two volumes share a feminist perspective, a literary critical methodology, and the subject matter of female and male in the Hebrew Scriptures. Yet the studies differ in emphasis and spirit. The first is a time to laugh and dance; the second, a time to weep and mourn… Without the joy of the first book, I should have found unbearable the sorrow of the second. Ancient tales of terror speak all too frighteningly of the present. If terror dominates the study, theory does not. Only a brief introduction stands between the reader and the stories, and no conclusion discusses what is narrated. Scholarly debate, methodological defense, and theological disputation seldom appear in the text… The resultant message is clear. Storytelling is sufficient unto itself.” (Pg. xiii)
She continues in the Introduction, “In this book my task is to tell sad stories as I hear them. Indeed, they are tales of terror with women as victim… these narratives yield four portraits of suffering in ancient Israel: Hagar, the slave used, abused, and rejected; Tamar, the princess raped and discarded; an unnamed woman, the concubine raped, murdered, and dismembered; and the daughter of Jephthah, a virgin slain and sacrificed… From the start, certain theological positions constitute pitfalls. They center in Christian chauvinism.
“First, to account for these stories as relics of a distant, primitive, and inferior past is invalid. Resoundingly, the evidence of history refutes all claims to the superiority of a Christian era. Second, to contrast an Old Testament God of wrath with New Testament God of love is fallacious. The God of Israel is the God of Jesus, and in both testaments resides tension between divine wrath and divine love. Third, to subordinate the suffering of the four women to the suffering of the cross is spurious. Their passion has its own integrity; no comparisons diminish the terror they knew. Fourth, to seek the redemption of these stories in the resurrection is perverse. Sad stories do not have happy endings.” (Pg. 1-2)
She explains, “As a critique of culture and faith in light of misogyny, feminism is a prophetic movement, examining the status quo, pronouncing judgment, and calling for repentance. This hermeneutic engages scripture in various ways. One approach documents the case against women.. By contrast, a second approach discerns within the Bible critiques of patriarchy. It upholds forgotten texts and reinterprets familiar ones to shape a remnant theology that challenges the sexism of scripture. Yet a third approach incorporates the other two. It recounts tales of terror IN MEMORIAM to offer sympathetic readings of abused women. If the first perspective documents misogyny historically and sociologically, this one appropriates the data poetically and theologically. At the same time, it continues to search for the remnant in unlikely places, Such an approach characterizes these essays. It interprets stories of outrage on behalf of their female victims in order to recover a neglected history, to remember a past that the present embodies, and to pray that these terrors shall not come to pass again. In telling sad stories, a feminist hermeneutic seeks to redeem the time.” (Pg. 3)
She first takes up the story of Hagar (Gen 16:1-16), and observes, “the narrated ending continues to undermine Hagar. First, though it restores her name, it silences her voice. Second, it stresses not her motherhood but the fatherhood of Abram, whom the messenger of Yahweh never mentioned. Third, in reporting that Abram named the son Ishmael, it strips Hagar of the power that God gave her... Moreover, the ending undercuts Sarai. The one who spoke of building up herself, not Abram, through Hagar’s child receives no mention at all. Neither Hagar not Sarai has a son whom he names Ishmael. Patriarchy is well in control.” (Pg. 19)
She summarizes, “her story depicts oppression in three familiar forms: nationality, class, and sex. Hagar the Egyptian is a maid; Sarah the Hebrew is her mistress. Conflicts between these women revolve around three males. At the center is Abraham, their common husband… Through their husband and his two sons these females clash… Hagar is powerless because God supports Sarah. Kept in her place, the slave woman is the innocent victim of use, abuse, and rejection… Truly, Hagar the Egyptian is the prototype of not only special but all mothers in Israel… Hagar foreshadows Israel’s pilgrimage of faith through contrast.” (Pg. 28)
Moving to Tamar (2 Sam 13:1-22), she concludes, “The narrator [states]… "There were born to Absalom three sons and one daughter; her name was Tamar.” [14:27] Strikingly, the anonymity of all the sons highlights the name of the lone female child. In her Absalom has created a living memorial for his sister. A further note enhances the poignancy of his act. Tamar, the daughter of Absalom, ‘became a woman beautiful to behold.’ From aunt to niece have passed name and beauty so that rape and desolation have not the final word in the story of Tamar.” (Pg. 55)
Of the unnamed woman in Judges 19:1-30, she comments, “The power struggle between the two men highlights the plight of the woman who brought them together but whom they and the storyteller have ignored. Unlike her father, the daughter had no speech; unlike her master, the concubine has no power. A journey ‘to speak to her heart’ has become a visit to engage male hearts, with no speech to her at all. With the master set out to do, he has forsaken to enjoy hospitality and competition with another man. The woman suffers through neglect.” (Pg. 69) She continues, “[In v. 11-15] They do not ask her preference for the night. If the attendant is subordinate to the master, she is inferior to them both. Her sex as female, not her status as servant, makes her powerless. Like the donkeys, she belongs only in the ‘they’ who turn aside ‘to go in and spend the night in Gibeah.’” (Pg. 70)
She goes on, citing Genesis 19. “These two stories show that rules of hospitality in Israel protect only males. Through Lot entertained a man alone, the old man also has a female guest and no hospitality safeguards her. She is chosen as the victim for male lust… in neither of these stories does the male host offer himself in place of his guests. Constant only is the use of innocent and helpless women to guard and gratify men of all sorts… Lot’s proposal was rejected, not out of concern for the virgin daughters but out of animosity that a sojourner should try to adjudicate the crisis… Ironically, male anger against another male spared Lot’s daughters the horrors for which he had volunteered them.” (Pg. 75)
She concludes, “Her body has been broken and given to many. Lesser power has no woman than this, that her life is laid down by a man.” (Pg. 81) She continues, “Entrusted to Israelite men, the story of the concubine justifies the expansion of violence against women. What these men claim to abhor, they have reenacted with vengeance. They have captured, betrayed, raped, and scattered four hundred virgins of Jabesh-gilead and two hundred daughters of Shiloh… Israelite males have dismembered the corporate body of Israelite females. Inasmuch as men have done it unto one of the least of women, they have done it unto many. Tribal Israel failed to direct its heart to the concubine.” (Pg. 83-84)
But she also notes, “the story of Ruth follows immediately the story of the concubine… the book of Ruth … is a study in hospitality, but this time a female version… The absence of misogyny, violence and vengeance in the two stories, juxtaposed to the Benjamite traditions speaks a healing word in the days of the judges…. Though the presence of the latter group cannot erase the sufferings of their sisters, it does show both the Almighty and the male establishment a more excellent way. To direct the heart of these stories to the concubine, then, is to counsel redemption.” (Pg. 85)
She summarizes, “Violence and vengeance are not just characteristics of a distant, pre-Christian past; they infect the community of the elect to this day. Woman as object is still captured, captured, raped, tortured, murdered, dismembered, and scattered. To take to heart this ancient story, then, is to confess its present reality.” (Pg. 87)
She turns to the daughter of Jephthah (Judges 11:29-40), and observes, “Whereas the female who has never known a man is typically numbered among the unremembered, in the case of the daughter of Jephthah the usual does not happen… The alteration comes through the faithfulness of the women of Israel… The unnamed virgin child becomes a tradition in Israel because the women with whom she chose to spend her last days have not let her pass into oblivion… The narrative postscript, then, shifts the focus of the story from vow to victim, from death to life, from oblivion to remembrance. Remarkably, this saga of faithlessness and sacrifice mitigates, though it does not dispel, its own tragedy through the mourning of women.” (Pg. 106-107)
This book will appeal to feminist-sympathizing persons studying such controversial OT stories.
Displaying 1 of 1 review