In 1996 I took four classes at the Pacific School of Religion. They were life-changing classes! During one course, there was a discussion of the couple on the road to Emmaus. I was beginning to think that a woman might be a disciple and the couple might be a man and a woman, or as my lesbian professor hypothesized, two women. I thought about how different this story would sound if it were on women’s lips. What would the story of Tamar, the daughter-in-law of Judah, sound like on the lips of a survivor of domestic violence or Tamar, the daughter of David, on the lips of the survivor of rape?  

My Sunday School teachers used to tell my mother, “She always asks the hard questions.” My most pressing questions were, “Where are all the women, and why are the ones I hear about sinners, prostitutes, virgins, or mothers? Didn’t they do anything else?” 

Over the years, I began to realize that the stories of biblical women were conveyed to me by men or by women who relied on the interpretations of men. I read the story of Bathsheba. I was taught she was a temptress, but it sounded more like rape. Where was the justice for Bathsheba when she was raped? Where was the justice for Bathsheba when her husband was killed? Where was the justice for Bathsheba when her baby died? Why was I being taught that she was responsible?  

A big revelation came for me one February when I was about 12. It was a revelation because it illustrated the holes in my biblical education. There was a button for sale at the National Date Festival that read. “I am a Virgin,” I announced to my parents that I would buy that button. They had always been very good at explaining exactly where babies came from to my sisters and me. Still, no one had explained virginity to me. I thought it meant a good person. I was astonished to realize that when we sang “round yon virgin,” we were singing about Mary’s sex life. Silent Night took on a whole new meaning. 

The more I learned, the more I began to question the differences between the explanations I was hearing about the stories of biblical women and what the stories said to me. Samson and Delilah, for example, I was taught that she was the temptress who betrayed Sampson. Still, it sounded like Sampson was just dumb, mean, and selfish.

In the endorsement Reza Aslan wrote for my book, he says.” The women warriors, prophets, and disciples of the Bible have been miscast for centuries as demons, harlots, and jezebels — and intentionally so. For if the truth about who these women were and what they represented were more widely known, it would challenge most of the assumptions we have about Judaism and Christianity.”  

When writing Prostitutes, Virgins, and Mothers, I set the Bible up and read the women’s stories. I let each woman tell her story. Sometimes the woman woke me up in the middle of the night to tell me her story. Leah said, “They say my husband didn’t love me, but I know what was going on in my tent, and I have the children to prove it.” 

Read your holy book and allow the stories to speak to you without the varnish of others’ interpretations. 

Dr. Paula Trimble-Familetti

She/Her (Not a guy.)

President Desert Interfaith Council

Treasurer Christian Feminism Today

paula.trimblefamiletti@yahoo.com

Author: Prostitutes, Virgins, and Mothers: Questioning Teachings About Biblical Women