Silence, Women, and The Annunciation
Today is the Feast of the Annunciation – March 25th an exact nine months before the mass celebrating the birth of Christ. We women know that pregnancy, like life, is messier than that – rarely following some to the minute timetable. I, for one, doubt that Mary would have traveled during the usual period of confinement, and was probably confronted with an unexpected early labor as the result of her travels. But we women weren’t the ones to set these dates.
What I find interesting though are a couple of the posts I have seen today on the nature of the annunciation itself. Quiet posts, it seems, almost if they were whispered, afraid of their reception. “What really happened,” they ask, “when that angel visited Mary to bestow on her that seed of the divine?” What generally happens when a man decides he desires a woman in that way is the answer they imply. But to speak such a thing in reference to a holy event is often unthinkable. It is less taboo to evoke the Greek tradition of mythology, recounting the ravishments of the poor maidens one god or another took a liking to. But the unspoken question remains – is Mary simply standing-in for Leda’s encounter with a divine winged being – “A sudden blow: the great wings beating still above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed by the dark webs, her nape caught in his bill, He holds her helpless breast upon his breast.” (W.B. Yeats)
Part of me wants to just deny what it may have meant to have been propositioned by God. I’ve even argued on this blog in years past that I just can’t believe in that sort of God. I’ve willed myself to reject Rossetti's painted portrayal of a frightened Mary (seen here) and take Mary’s response of “I am the Lord’s servant, May it be to me as you have said” as a sign of strength. I had to believe that the soul that sung the Magnificat joined in willingly in this act of creating new life, and perhaps I still do believe it. But I struggle with the knowledge that this is a topic the church tries to avoid. Why is the question only raised in hushed apologetic tones? Why can’t we stop being silent about the ways women, especially biblical women, have been used just for their bodies?
I am currently reading Azar Nafisi’s memoir Things I Have Been Silent About regarding her years growing up in Iran before the Islamic Revolution. In reflecting on her cultural traditions, she commented that in Iran, memoirs and histories only focus on great deeds and events. When her father published his memoir, all personal anecdotes and reflections were expunged as insignificant. But those stories were actually the substance of life, leaving the remaining narrative of seemingly heroic events hollow. She then decided to write about the things she had been silent about – the daily joys and vicissitudes of real life. And these stories included the personal experiences of the rampant sexual abuse of children common in a culture of severe sexual repression. These children were silenced by their guilt even as victims. In the name of protecting the glories of a great religion, the truth remained generally untold.
But of course the truth is that sexual abuse surrounds us. One in four women report being sexually abused at some point in their lives. And given that most women I know who bothered to report such abuse were laughed at by the authorities, I assume the actual statistics are far higher. Most of us are taught early on to shrug it off, “boys will be boys, they can’t help themselves…” and so forth. Christian groups try to hide incidents of rape in their midst, and I know a Christian publisher who refused to print a story of date rape at a Christian College because it would be too inappropriate for their readership. The Catholic Church is finally having to deal with years of sexual abuse by their assumed representations of God on earth, but it is too little too late.
We have been silent about the sexual abuse of women in the church. Our stories (our bodies) have been dismissed as insignificant. Our Bible stories reduce women to mere sex objects, useful as pleasure providers or wombs. They gloss over the rape and trafficking incidents as if it was natural for men to simply use women in such ways. We are taught that it is our fault if a man decides to abuse us. And perhaps like Mary, some women have learned that when confronted by a powerful man claiming to be God’s messenger we have no choice to but to meekly say “may it be to me as you have said.” When the stories don’t get told, or are excused away, the environment simply remains ripe for the abuse to continue. Perhaps I too need to stop convincing myself that there isn’t terror in the annunciation and simply be willing to hear that side of the story.
So on this day honoring of the Annunciation (be it a remembrance of blessing or violence), I offer a poem to break the silence. Nicola Slee, writing in response to Phyllis Trible's book Texts of Terror ( a book which looks at some of the terrible deeds carried out against women in the Bible), in it exhorts us to continue to read and not to dismiss those stories, and to use the horror we feel to fuel our prayers. I encountered it recently at Sally Coleman’s blog in her posts addressing the practice of “corrective rape” of lesbians in Africa and a recent incident in Brazil where a doctor was excommunicated from the church for performing an abortion on a 9 year old girl who had become pregnant after being repeatedly raped by her stepfather (he faced no such discipline). May it help us break the silence.
Should we remember Hagar, Tamar, Jephthah's daughter, and
Lot's?
Should we tell of their wretched lives to our daughters?
Should we speak on our lips the tales of torture, misery, abuse and
violence?
Would we do better to consign them to silence?
We will listen, however painful the hearing,
for still there are women the world over
being raped
being whipped
being sold into slavery
being shamed
being silenced
being beaten
being broken
treated as worthless
treated as refuse.
Until there is not one last woman remaining
who is a victim of violence.
We will listen and we will remember.
we will rehearse the stories and we will renounce them.
we will weep and we will work for the coming of the time
when not one baby will be abandoned because of her gender
not one girl will be used against her will for another's pleasure
not one young woman will be denied the chance of an education
not one mother will be forced to abandon her child
not one woman will have to sell her body
not one crone will be cast off by her people to die alone.
Listen then, in sorrow.
Listen in anger, Listen to the texts of terror.
And let us commit ourselves to working for a world
in which such deeds may never happen again…
julieclawson(at)gmail(dot)com 
Amen….beautiful, sad, honest post. I have thought about this issue a great deal…let it be done unto me- freaks me out. I really want to scream, "no!" The prayer is awesome. Thanks for putting this subject into words.
This is a provocative, important and beautifully-written post, Julie.
thank you for this.
This entry was kind of gut wrenching for me in several ways, in a good way I think. I'm unfortunately not very tuned in to women's issues like these, so I need posts like this one. My eyes are a little bit more open. One thing I wonder though is if the Annunciation is basically a story of rape, is God the kind of God who cares whether we succeed at defending women's rights? If he's not, then who are we following when we pursue such causes?
Wow, this post totally shocks me from a woman in Christian ministry. Am NOT saying that one shouldn't question, but to even suggest that God somehow raped Mary is offensive in the most extreme way possible. So, Julie, why do you believe in Christ? I'm truly asking.
I'm wondering, though, Julie … how would you reconcile this reading with over 400 years of waiting and hoping for a Messiah? It was fairly well known and prophesied in Jewish scripture, that one of their own would be the mother of their saviour. But how it came about was a surprise (of course) and to whom. Miriamu (Mary in ancient Hebrew) never held out any real hope for being the mother of the Messiah because of her status in ancient Jewish society.
I completely agree that there are Texts of Terror (as Phyllis refers to them) but aren't those usually men who rape and pillage women? I'm not certain, and frankly don't have time right now to do the research, but I don't think there are instances in the Bible of God raping women. I really think that using Mary as one is a stretch. Particularly since her response is one of joy and gladness. It seems to me that Mary had, as do we all, the freedom of choice to accept or decline God's offer. But given the cultural milieu in which she lived and the way in which it was made to her, she accepted it. I have to wonder if her response, "May it be to me as You have said" was not somewhat contrived by men who want her to be that mealy-mouthed young maiden. For me, that is where that story breaks down entirely.
I see Mary as a powerful young woman who was brave and bold. She was willing to stand up to the men of her time pregnant and alone, if Joseph had decided to leave her. She took them all on. Her story is thoroughly amazing. My issue with it is that there is not more of it … Biblically speaking. Why don't we know more about her?
I do, on the other hand, completely agree with you. These stories of abuse, degradation and control need to be told. Until we open up the sins of darkness to the light we will never be free.
I have to agree with Jennifer. True, there are many accounts of abuse of men, women and childrne in the Bible , but that does not mean they were sanctioned by God. To suggest that Jesus was born as a result of rape…wow…that is sad.
I hope one day you get to meet the living Christ, and understand just how unique and wonderful and full of love He is.
Julie: I applaud your courage to ask questions, even though you surely knew you would suffer some indignation (or worse) from some evangelical readers. What you are helping us to do is to take off our American Evangelical sun glasses through which we tend to look at these ancient texts. Read in its ancient context, there are indeed parallels here to the rather common stories of the gods coming down to get it on with human women. That is not saying (as you are not) that that is what is happening for sure in the annunciation story, but the parallels are unsettling to say the least.
More importantly, you are refusing to allow us to gloss over the texts of terror with religious icing. We must face these squarely. Thanks.
Nothing like a smarmy, gratuitous response to a well-thought-out post, Sinead Roy. ("I hope one day you get to meet the living Christ, and understand just how unique and wonderful and full of love He is.") Life is complicated, and we need to consider possibilities.
Julie, thank you for another thoughtful, thought-provoking, well-written message.
Provocative Julie.
I've come to believe that much of the Mary story was "contrived" to support the developing doctrines of the trinity in the Early Christian church, rather than to tell what actually happened to Mary – she is an inconvenient detail that needed some cleaning up in the attempts to explain how Christ could be human and divine. So, I reject the possibility that God himself raped her because that is not a God I can care to follow and not the God Christ preached about.
However, the idea that someone else may have taken advantage of her, and then, theologically it needed to be swept under the rug, seems possible and equally upsetting.
I don't personally don't believe that the Mary we are presented with in the Gospels is reflective of the "real" story of Mary. To me, it is likely that Mary's story is a more than historical story, told from a male perspective to support the idea that Christ was divine, and that to be the mother of the divine, one had to be a certain type of woman – meek and mild and obediant. This seems more fitting to me within the historical/cultural context. Her pregnancy was inconvenient, I think, and needed some "spin".
Mary couldn't be sexual, because the divine shouldn't be born of something so base. And she couldn't have been the victim of abuse or worse yet, willingly involved in sexual relations, because, what kind of God would allow the divine to be born under those circumstances? (And yet, how many of God's people WERE born under those circumstances? If God were to truly be one of us, why would he shun that type of start? Especially if he intended to be among the least whom Christ so vocally championed?).
To my way of thinking, we are always faced with Christ's pesky humanity, and to be human means to to be human – you know, sperm and egg kind of thing. I'm of the belief that Christ's divinity emerged after the resurrection. Not a mainstream belief, I know, but it is my perspective.
That Mary was the pawn of institutional Christianity AND a victim of the Jewish cultural tradition she was raised in, seems apparent. Her pregnancy, and the fact that its circumstances might have been known, and therefore had to be "dealt" with because it was not the "ideal" situation, tells me more about the men who wrote the gospels down, then it does about Mary, or the actual circumstances of Yeshua's birth.
My .02 for what it's worth. (And for the record, I consider myself to be a Marian – although I relate to Mary more as a human mother who suffered her humanity just like the rest of us. She loved, she lost, she grieved, she hoped, and above all, she lived within the context of the reality she was dealt – she watched her beloved child tortured and killed because he bucked the system. And she was powerless to stop it. That's a person I can relate to!)
Very thought provoking post. I have never imagined Christ's conception as rape, and I don't think I could with any sincerity. I cannot reconcile a God whose very nature is love with this picture of God's encounter with Mary. I am certain she was terrified, but she still accepted this intrusion courageously and with incredible faith. This is the mystery of God's activity in the world. God took what would otherwise be devastating and createed hope. I am not at all suggesting that women who suffer sexual violence (or any other kind) should demurely accept it and try to find "God's will" in the situation. But I do think that Christ could not have been conceived in violence for it would be absolutely contrary to God's character and everything Jesus embodied.
We do need to scream out against the violence and suffering against women all over the world. This is close to home for our family. Just last night my husband was involved in protecting a woman victimized during a violent domestic dispute. He is a landlord for a Christian housing ministry, which means he does more than fix toilets and collect rent. He is actively involved in helping people – often single moms with kids that don't experience the presence of their fathers – remain stable in their housing in hopes that this will lead to stability in other aspects of their lives. Last night it meant that he changed the locks to prevent further abuse, at least for the night.
Long story shorter, he personally encountered the abuser several times over the course of the night and learned that he had served 10 years for rape and burglary and was recently released. As much as we abhor what happened to the woman, we couldn't help but see brokenness in the oppressor. There is a pre-quell there – something that makes him see violence as an option. So I guess I am encouraging a broader lens through which we see violence. I don't think addressing the brokenness of men who identify as oppressors needs to take anything away from efforts to free women from oppression. This is how we distinct ourselves as Kingdom people.
I loved the poem – I will check out Texts of Terror.
Wow. I didn't leap to God raping Mary in my reading of Julie's post here, but maybe I missed something. What I heard was the possibility that the act of conceiving Jesus was not as angelic as it was portrayed in the biblical account, but that God worked good things even in that awful circumstance. Like how God made powerfully good things happen through the life of David even though he was kinda a shmuck.
Amazing post. Thanks for bringing this up. While I'm usually not one to cite obscure facts in support of conspiracy-type hypotheses, I was thinking along the lines of this very topic just a few days ago while reading a book by a Christian I admire. He mentioned something very important I think we should all think about: Divinity is not determined by the method of conception or birth. If Jesus was divine, he would be so regardless of the facts surrounding his birth. With that in mind, following are some interesting facts I came across. I've excerpted below, but the fuller context can be seen here: http://www.dlmcn.com/weatherhead.html
And this really goes along with the sad facts of growing up female in such a culture:
One explanation of Mary's pregnancy…[mentions] the "sacred marriage" ceremony which was an ancient and widespread custom in the Near and Middle East…. The high priest played the part of a divine messenger. He was "married" to a virgin with whom he cohabited. The offspring of such a union was regarded as a son of god, or a divine personage.
Now Zacharias was the priest on duty in the temple at the relevant time. He “executed the priest's office before God in the order of his course” (Luke 1, verse
… In a "sacred marriage"… a stay of three months was required in the house of the priest…to make sure that pregnancy was established. This would explain why Mary stayed in the home of Zacharias for that length of time before returning to her own home. Indeed, what an otherwise strange reaction to Gabriel's message was her hurried journey into Zacharias's house! "Mary arose, and went with haste and entered the house of Zacharias" [Luke 1, verse 39].
Again, I'm not some weirdo conspiracy theorist, and I don't mean to go too far off topic, but this explanation does hold at least some water and is related to your post. Read the full context at the link (above) for more info.
Sorry if my comment offended anyone. The scripture is clear that Mary became impregnated because of a Word that was spoken to her, not becuase of a physical act of sexual intercourse. That is why Jesus is identified as the Word which became flesh. Yes, it may sound like a lot of theological mumble-jumble, but the reality is found in an encouter with Him as a Risen Lord. Without that, the rest is really inconsequential. I would hate for anyone to miss the opportunity to meet Him
Wow, Julie. This is an absolutely fantastic post.
I've been thinking about it since yesterday, and still no words to add.
Thank you.
I find it interesting how uncomfortable some are with considering that God might be implicated in violence in this act. Whole parts of the church say that in order to be a Christian one must believe in an atonement theory that states that God did violence to Jesus on the cross. The divine breaking into our world seems to always imply some sort of violence by its very nature – it upsets what we define as normal. Like Dave mentioned, how Jesus came into this world doesn't alter his divinity… just perhaps what we take from the story.
That why I am drawn to the poems of W.B. Yeats on these events of the divine entering into and changing out world. Sometimes the poets understand what the priests do not. Yeats believed in a cyclical (this has all happened before and will happen again) view of history where the key hinge moments rest on the gods coming upon a woman to impregnant her with a child who would change the world. When Zeus took the form of a swan to rape Leda the result was Helen – the women who change the utter path of the Greeks, ushering them ultimately into the modern era. Two thousand years later, the god visited Mary resulting in "Wings beating about the room; The terror of all terrors that I bore,The Heavens in my womb.' – Jesus. As the hinge point of the year 2000 approached he asked again "what rough beast his hour come round at last slouches toward Bethlehem to be born?" This divine intervention is an upheaval – using people as pawns in the cosmic game.
But beyond the mythological elements of divine forces at work in our world, I see how this specific event could be tinged with violence even if one doesn't think a violent assault took place. One of the greatest forms of violence against women throughout history is the act of literal and figurative imprisonment. Controling women's lives – saying who they must marry, what they must wear, who they can talk to, if they can go to school or work, how they must act towards their husbands is violence. Seriously, how are not arranged marriages acts of rape? Women with no choice in the matter are given to men who do whatever they want to her – that is violence, that is rape. And that happened all the time in biblical cultures and in God sanctioned biblical events. Of course women accepted these arrangements "willingly" because they honestly had no other choice. An older sister or cousin would simply whisper to them as they were taken to the wedding chamber – "close your eyes, think of something else, and endure." It wasn't until the establishment of convents that young women had a choice on whether they had to give their body to a man or to God.
This lack of choice is the form of violence. I fully support that we are sexual beings and that should be explored and not repressed. At the same time, the cultural habit is to allow men to do that exploring without giving a choice to women. They objectify us through porn. Boys on schoolbuses grab and fondle girls who can't escape. Teachers and youth leaders give us long looks telling us exactly how what we are wearing might cause a man to "stumble." Girls are made to feel guilty and are then silenced when their boyfriend doesn't listen when they say no. Wives are told that they must suppress their personality, not be too intelligent or successful, keep up their appearance, and always say yes to sex or else their husband will have no choice but to cheat. When the choice to say exactly what we do or do not want done to our bodies is taken away from us, then yes, violence is done to us. So while these stories might sometimes involve abduction and violent rape, we are still silenced and harmed when our voice and our choice is denied in these more subtle and culturally condoned ways.
Beautiful response Julie. I find it hard to believe that these ideas are still so "offensive" to people in the church, like it's an out-of-bounds discussion. That's ridiculous. But then again, as a man who grew up in a certain way of thinking and not so long ago had a paradigm shift, it's not that surprising, although it pains me to think that women have such a hard time admitting the violence that occurred in the Bible, and how those patriarchal ideas affect them today. But because we attach our notions of "God" and God's will" to such things, that somehow erases any negative implications of such ideology. Sad. Thanks again for being so brave and passionate, for sticking to your guns and bringing these thoughts out of the closet. Christians have nothing to fear from asking such questions if in fact they believe their God is as big as they say he is.
I believe violence is antithetical to the heart of God. Violence is a human, fallen act which seeks to divide and conquer and assert one's authority over the other. If Jesus is the full image of the invisible God, we must consider how a God who gets on his knees and washes feet, or one as described in the Kenotic hymn of Philippians is violent.
I loved Julie's post because it provoked me to think outside the lines. I did not take her to mean God is violent. Correct me if I am misreading you, Julie, but are you rather saying that God's invasion into our space is often "violent" at least from our perspective? I believe being confronted by God and God's Word can bring havoc on one's life – it turns our world upside down. The incarnation itself was an act of violence in this way.
But Mary's response is the key here. More often than not, when Jesus infringes on MY rights, I want to run and hide or tell God I have a better idea. Not Mary. Mary is stronger than I. She is holier than I. She is to be emulated (which is what Catholics try to teach us).
We had a girl in our Luke/Acts class who said this was unbelievable because NO woman would respond the way Mary did to this intrusion. It would ruin her life, she said. Dr. Kavin Rowe, our professor, simply looked at her and said, " This is, perhaps, one of the reasons Mary has forever been called "Blessed" and "Holy", and not you or I."
I think it's important to note that Julie isn't speaking definitively one way or the other – just presenting a perspective that takes some guts to present.
Thank you for asking untidy questions.
I think you offer proof Julie that men wrote the Bible and did so by appealing to common pagan, misogynist myths of the time.
If a woman was crafting the story of the birth of a savior, it would not begin with God propositioning a poor girl, impregnating her by force and throwing her back into the world to slanderous accusations.
I personally believe that these stories are a narrative fiction, a hagiography for Jesus, written by later authors. Even still, it says so much about the tradition that these are the stories crafted.
We could take the next step and discuss the slaughter of the innocents, and how many children died so that Jesus might live, how many mothers watched their children murdered without warning, while Jesus and his family slipped away into the night.
David – fantastic points
"If a woman was crafting the story of the birth of a savior, it would not begin with God propositioning a poor girl, impregnating her by force and throwing her back into the world to slanderous accusations."
Unless, of course, it actually happened that way.
Chad,
I tend to prefer the birth story in the gospel of Mark.
David,
Ah, wouldn't it be great if we could just pick and choose which parts of Scripture we like?
We could be like Luther and just throw out James or Marcion and just toss the entire OT.
If we are honest, we all pick and choose.
David,
Not willingly or volitionally. I agree that if we laid our lives down next to the gospel we would all find holes and gaps, but this is not because I have sat in judgment of Scripture and determined that I am smarter or more enlightened than all the saints before me who honored this sacred story in its entirety. We have the God we got which is not always the God we want.
Let me humbly suggest, then, that honoring the sacred story in its entirety and not believing in the historicity of the birth stories aren't mutually exclusive. It is possible to do both, and to not sit in judgment of Scripture and other Christians.
David,
I agree they are not mutually exclusive. I am not talking about historicity but theology. The stories are there for a reason – to teach us something about God and then about ourselves. Ignoring them only hurts ourselves. I guess I am suggesting that if it is unwise to a) rip the birth narratives out of our Bibles or b) assume these stories are unpleasant because they suggest a violence on God's part towards women. I don't think either of those options are very viable. Therefore, what might these stories desire to teach us? How are they forming us as God's children? How are they recreating in us an imagination that looks for and lives within the Kingdom of God?
Yes, the birth narratives teach a great deal. So as not to hijack Julie's comment section any more, let me suggest that one of the things these narratives teach us in our modern context that is actually (if insufficiently) aware of sexual violence and abuse is exactly what Julie is teaching us in this post. Maybe it should remind us of the violence against women (or anyone) that occurs in the name of God and in the houses of God. Maybe it should remind us that the Bible is a very male document and that women are given short-shrift in it as a whole.
I think these are very valuable lessons, imperative lessons in forming us as God's children and re-creating in us an imagination that values God's children above the sacred words written about God.
David,
To all of that I agree. I am just not yet convinced that the annunciation is the best place to voice those much needed concerns (Scripture has no shortage of unsavory spots to make these claims).
Thanks for the dialog! Peace.
To you as well. It was fun.
Julie, do you, like David, believe that the story of Mary is narrative fiction? If so, be upfront and just say it.
Are you intending to draw a parallel between Zeus and God? Are you saying that the story of God in the Bible is just myth?
And yes, I AM uncomfortable with
"considering that God might be implicated in violence in this act."
I totally disagree that it was God who "did violence to Jesus on the cross."
So I come back to my earlier question, Julie, and ask why it is you believe in Christ? And again, I AM truly asking.
David & Chad – thanks for the conversation and insights.
Jennifer – To answer your questions, I think we would need to agree to how we both are using certain terms, but I suspect we may mean different things when we use terms like narrative and myth. Do I think the Mary story is a narrative? Yes. Does that mean I believe it to be untrue? No. But I do believe that the story was told a certain way to convey the message the writer desired to convey. There is far more going on in the biblical narratives than just a recitation of facts – there is selection, and interpretation, and yes, storytelling. Do we know exactly what happened to Mary – no. We have an account of what the early church thought it was important for believers to know. That does not make it untrue, but it would also be false to assume we have the full story.
Is there a parallel between God and Zeus. Sure. Competing religious systems always invoke parallels. We make sense of the world by seeing divine hands working within it. I believe in God. The story of God in the Bible is of course mythological – as in a story that explains how the world works. Do I think it is "myth" as in untrue (using the corrupted use of the term as it is often employed these days)? No. But again, I don't believe the bible to be divine (the Word of God, Jesus, is divine, the bible simply bears witness to the Word). The bible was written by people doing their best to tell the story of God as they best understood it. That does not make it untrue, or full of errors, or whatever, just simply something that must be understood as a cultural artifact pointing us toward God and not an object of worship in and of itself.
If you do not think God did violence to Jesus on the cross, I am curious what atonement theory you do ascribe to. That one seems to be the trendy one of the moment, so it would be nice to hear what other Christians these days believe. And yes, confronting the violence of God in scripture is highly uncomfortable, but it is still there. Our very understanding of God and reading of scripture has to wrestle with that very issue if we actually desire a full encounter with God (and not just a god we have created in an image that pleases us).
Why do I believe in Christ? Because I believe he is redeeming and reconciling everything in this world. Because following him is the only fruitful and sane way to exist. Because I see the healing that has been done through him.
I don't run from what I believe to be true and right because the facades I had built around it crumble. I don't reject my calling just because it is messy and complicated. I don't abandon someone because of a tainted past or because they have been broken and bruised. I don't believe in Jesus because my 20th/21st century evangelical interpretation of the bible as literally true tells me so. My faith doesn't rest on something so flimsy. I see truth in the bible because of Jesus, not the other way around.
So I am a little uncomfortable with accusations that my faith is worthless of nonexistent simply because it might look different than others. Asking questions and seeking the truth (no matter how uncomfortable it may be) is the only way my faith can be real.
Your last response to Jennifer is a timely word for me–thank you.
I honestly was shocked when I read this post and impacted by many of the comments. I have never considered the possibility of Mary being raped or even of there actually being a physical relationship componant to Christ's conception before I read this post. My mind is full of thoughts and I am having trouble getting them together. But I think in the end I believe Mary was a willing accomplice in her union with the Holy Spirit even if she was not also stepping out in faith–"I pray what you have told me is true for I know under any other circumstance what I am about to give myself to would be sin." As a woman, in order to hold on to God as a being worthy of worship I cannot see the conception of Christ as a result of rape. I know stories of violence at the hand of God abound. Death and destruction are everywhere–in the history of our religion and in our practice. I know. But a God who could himself rape a woman could also tell her to be silent (in Church) and could also send her to an everlasting place of torment for not lining up with the TULIP believers. I cannot worship such a God. I might conceed HIs exisitance but I could never worship Him.
Julie,
Very well said.
Minnow,
I agree.
I agree with Minnow. I couldn't worship that God either.
Hi Julie! My first post here. Very interesting topic. I never thought of Mary as being raped (literally or figuratively) because of her famous response: "be it unto me according to thy word." I guess I'm succumbing to rather traditional Catholic theology (although I'm not a Catholic), but essentially the angel (the Holy Spirit) tells Mary that God has chosen her to be the incubator of Christ, and according to Christian tradition, it's not imposed on her – it's up to her whether she wants to do so or not. Supposedly Mary's questioning of the angel ("how can this be…?") indicates deliberation on her part, which implies free will. Mary is celebrated in the Catholic church especially because of her choice (saying yes to God). The fact that she consented doesn't mean she was without fear, like any woman confronting a pregnancy, but she nonetheless agrees to go through with it.
I don't see Mary as being "used" in a bad way (despite my use of the term "incubator" – I should add that I'm an ardent feminist!), because having Jesus born of a woman is necessary for His full humanity (to be born and raised as all humans are), and having Jesus "manifested" by the Spirit in her womb is necessary for His divinity (He didn't result from a union of sperm and egg because that would mean He only came into being at that time, whereas God is eternal – i.e. He always existed, He just "manifested" in Mary's womb at the appointed time, in the form of an embryo).
The Catholic church has a full theology of Mary having to do with how/why she was chosen to manifest God and why she is honored for this (it's interesting how "Mary worship" is a big divide between Catholics and Protestants), so while I agree that for the most part women are given short shrift in the Bible, Mary is certainly honored for her role in the Incarnation, at least by Catholics. (Most Protestant theology is very dismissive of Mary, inappropriately in my view)
I should add that I guess a lot of it has to do with how one interprets "be it unto me according to thy word." I never thought of it as implying that Mary was a meek girl coerced into something she didn't want to do because she felt she had no choice. I always interpreted it as a brave statement of commitment (she's fully aware of the pain and problems it will present, but decides to do it anyway). The full Catholic theology is designed to explain that Mary says/does what she did because of the way God created her for this particular purpose – she's not just a girl having a baby, she was created by God for the purpose of manifesting and glorifying God (I admit I'm not a Marian scholar so it's all a bit beyond me, but it makes sense if one is going to accept the concept of the virgin birth at all).
Found my way here from Rachel Held Evans' website.
I have all sorts of mixed feelings and thoughts in response both to the original post and to the subsequent comments.
First of all, I think that we should be comfortable asking these sorts of questions that Julie is posing, without rushing to any conclusions. So thanks to Julie for saying as much!
That being said, I think I would have to come down against the notion that the Annunciation was an act of terror. I do think that there are many acts of terror against women that are portrayed in the Old Testament – there are many acts of terror against men and children as well. And of course this is all very difficult to understand and sort through, more to say on that than is appropriate in a combox.
It seems to me that the character of the Annunciation is different from those passages.
As Bobbie points out, Mary's interaction with the Angel does indicate some sense of cooperation on her part. And her Magnificat prayer does not exactly sound like the words of a terrorized, oppressed woman. She knows that she has been chosen, favored, that she is blessed. That does not mean she wasn't scared, but who has encountered the living God and not been scared? God is love, but God is also the Almighty.
Obviously my thoughts are the result of my belief in the divine inspiration of the Bible. While I don't think we have the "whole story" per se, and while I acknowledge that these are human writings from human authors – nevertheless I believe that God is telling us the truth through these words, the truth that we need to know. I don't think we are being given a white-washed version of what happened to Mary.
Despite my opinion regarding the Annunciation, I think the issue of violence against women IS a huge important issue that needs to continue to be talked about and explored, because it remains a serious problem. However, I cannot separate it as a problem from the general problem of sin in the world – women have born a special brunt of the sinfulness of men, but women have also perpetrated their share of sin in the world. Basically, it's all a broken mess, and like Julie said in of her comments, we need Jesus because He "is redeeming and reconciling everything in this world."
(By the way, Julie, you question whether or not Mary would have traveled during her confinement – does that mean you don't think Jesus was born in Bethlehem? Does that mean you also don't think she went to visit her cousin Elizabeth? Just wondering!
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Blessed Triduum to everyone!
Julie, Excellent post! Thank you.
I have really struggled with the story of Mary as well. Regardless of what really happened – the way that the story has been told, and how it has been used to teach women about how God sees them has come to be my main concern. The Annunciation has certainly painted a picture of passive, dependent, childish femininity to say the least.
A chapter in Chung Hyun Kyung's book, "Struggle to be the Sun Again," on Mary has been very helpful and healing for me. She speaks frankly about the Catholic domestication of Mary, "daughter of the Father, mother of Jesus, spouse of the Holy Spirit," as a woman who only has value when she is attached to men as daughter, mother, spouse. Chung describes our story of Mary as the ultimate Catholic male fantasy of "femininity" in her argue-less consent to the angel.
Yet, I believe that this says more about the story-tellers than about Mary herself. I choose to believe that she chose cooperation with God, and in doing so entered into God's weakness – God needed her, he would not come into the world unless she would give him life. I believe that the virgin birth declares that Jesus came into the world without the participation of men. For the first time, God and women were going to get together and turn the world upside down. In Jesus, patriarchy lost its power – no one asked for its blessing or permission. In cooperation with Mary, God began a new era of history and humanity.
In rereading Chung today, I recognize Good Friday as a day to remember Jesus on the cross, saying to his friends about Mary, "this is your Mother." In line with Jesus' understanding of family in Matt 12:49-50, I see Jesus affirming Mary's power and her leadership as the new head of the family of disciples. A new community was birthed.
A thought on the other line of conversation -
Was she raped? Uhhh, I don't know. I prefer to believe that she and God began something new. Was she sexually abused at some point in her life? Almost undoubtedly, most women are. Clearly, God allows it. There is no easy out for these questions, no easy answer to God's silence and absence from women as they have suffered. Has Mary's own story been domesticated and pinkified to keep women submissive? Certainly.
Perhaps we can find new ways to hold her story and to tell it, ways that birth new life, that free the oppressed, save the world.
Peace ~
I understand your concern about the treatment of women throughout history which is reflected in both biblical and extra-biblical texts. And I don't believe that the question you asked should be treated as a taboo or as irreverent per se.
The actual narrative of the annunciation however does not even come close to rape. When I hear "rape", I'm thinking of physical sexual violence against a woman's will. None of those three elements are actually present in the way the story is told.
It clearly wasn't physical or sexual in our common understanding (although many Muslims still believe God had sex with Mary in a physical way) or the description of a conception by spiritual means makes no sense.
It wasn't violent – although it put Mary in a very precarious position. Are we in the position to weigh God's choice of Mary as the bearer of the cumulative hope of all mankind against the suffering this choice would bring?
Finally, it wasn't done without her consent. Could Mary have refused? I believe she still had a choice. And that choice extended beyond the point of conception. Let's not forget that abortion is not a modern invention but dates back to as far as 1550 BC. I also believe that God knew how Mary would choose. It's only consistent with the other predictions, including the details of the crucifixion.
What I said about Muslims is not their actual belief of course but their perception of Christianity's belief and dogma.
"Finally, it wasn’t done without her consent. Could Mary have refused? "
I believe so. In fact, my guess is we only know the story of the one who said "yes." God may have visited countless others through history, but they (like we) aren't listening or willing to say , "yes."
What new creations might God be desiring among us today if only we would be as sensitive to the Spirit and as obedient as Mary?
Good point, Chad! I often catch myself thinking of "obedience" more in negative terms of coerced submission than a joyful and deliberate yielding to God from the motive of love and genuine worship.
And I believe in this point Roman-Catholic tradition gets it right by treating Mary as an extraordinary example of faith.
Amy – to clarify. Many women in ancient cultures didn't appear in public while they were visibly pregnant since that was an affront to cultural sensibilities. While the extremely poor often didn't have the luxury of "hiding their shame," it was still practiced as much as possible. So of course, she could have traveled in the first trimester, and if she (as assumed) was young and slight possibly even up to the 7th month. It's not hard fact, but just a cultural assumption that it would have been very culturally off for her to have traveled at 8/9 months pregnant. Hence my thoughts that this was an unexpectedly premature birth (as some translations suggest as well).
Brittany – Thanks for the book suggestion, it looks like one I should read. And yes, often the women of the bible have not been allowed to be themselves – but used more as pawns to control other women.
Josh – to push back, you say this is "clearly" not certain things, but what proof do you have other than your interpretation of the text?
Julie,
It goes without saying that whenever people say "clearly" (myself included) they really mean: this is what makes sense to me from what I'm reading and what the words seem to indicate in their context.
So while no-one can offer "proof" either way, I think a fairly solid case could be made that "being overshadowed by the Holy Spirit" stands in direct contrast to an emphasis on physical mechanics, to put it crudely.
Instead of proof, I can only point to the consistency of the Holy Spirit's character within the biblical narrative – which puts all the emphasis on gentleness and non-coerciveness.
As one who believes in non-violent resistance, and grounding that belief in a doctrine of God that names all forms of violence as sin (and therefore antithetical to God), I cannot say God raped Mary or was violent towards here in the Annunciation.
Are there people who believe God acts violently yet hold to a non-violent ethic themselves? If so, how does that work?
God Did Not Rape Force or Abuse Mary
http://indifferencegivesyouafright.wordpress.com/2010/03/11/did-god-rape-mary/
Regards,
Barra