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By Lynn Japinga

Sometimes the only moral lesson to be found in a biblical story is “Go and do NOT do likewise.” Or, more concisely, “This is revolting.” Or, even more concisely, “NO!”

The story of the concubine and the Levite in Judges 19 is one of those stories. You may have never heard of it, because it is not in the lectionary, and is not a likely text for a daily devotional. It demonstrates the depth of human brutality.

The Levite took a concubine, or second wife, but she left him and returned to her father’s house. Some translations say that she was unfaithful to him, but a more logical translation says that she was angry with him. Several months later, he went to try to win back her affections. After several days of eating and drinking with her father, they set off toward the Levite’s home. The text does not say whether she wanted to go.

They went to a Benjaminite town called Gibeah, and waited for someone to offer them hospitality. An old man finally invited them to his home, but their pleasant evening was interrupted when a group of townsmen pounded on the door and demanded that the host send out the Levite so they could rape him.

The host tried to divert them by offering his virgin daughter and the man’s concubine. The men refused, but the Levite seized his concubine and threw her out the door. The men raped and abused her all night, and in the morning they let her go. She made her way to the door of the house and collapsed. No one noticed.

The Levite did not express concern, go out to look for her, or wait up to see if she returned. In the morning, when he stepped outside to leave, his concubine was lying at the door. He said, “Get up! We are going” (19:28).

There was no answer. She may have been unconscious. She may have been dead. He put her on a donkey and when he arrived home, he cut her up into twelve pieces and sent one body part to each of the tribes of Israel, as a call to military action against the tribe of Benjamin. Something terrible had happened to his property, and something must be done.

This story is horrifying and offensive in so many ways. The host was justifiably frightened, but how could he blithely offer his daughter to a gang of rapists? The Levite pursued the concubine, but once she was under his control, he did not care enough to protect her. He expressed no grief or sadness. His callous words “Get up, we are going” are some of the most unfeeling, insensitive words in Scripture.

The woman’s story is profoundly sad. She was “given” and “taken,” regardless of her wishes. She had no voice, until finally her body parts were allowed to “speak” about her death. Even then, they told the Levite’s story, not hers.

It is even more disturbing to read the history of interpretation of this text. Commentators have tried to justify the actions of the Levite and host by claiming that heterosexual rape was “better” because at least the sex was “natural.” Some commentators said she deserved the gang rape because she left her husband. One said she died of shame rather than return to her husband as damaged goods.

It is unnerving to realize how pervasive and long standing is the idea that women should feel it is their fault that they have been raped. The Levite threw her out to the mob, but she was the one who died of shame. Better to simply say “NO” to this text than to try to defend the appalling behavior. The story could prompt us to think about how we respond to sexual violence. Do we blame the victim? Do we wonder whether she asked for it? Do we excuse the perpetrator?

The Levite made of big show of avenging her death, but he was ultimately more concerned about the affront to his honor than he was about the brutality done to her. His desire for revenge led to even more murder and mayhem and that will be the inspirational topic of next week’s blog.

Lynn Japinga is Professor of Religion at Hope College. She recently published Preaching the Women of the Old Testament: Who They Were and Why They Matter, from which this essay is adapted. She is relieved to currently be in a season of reading books rather than writing them. One of the bright spots in her life is her “grand-dog,” a smart but stubborn Golden Retriever puppy named Wrigley who requires constant supervision lest he succeed in his mission to eat the entire yard.

Lynn Japinga

Lynn Japinga teaches religion and women’s studies at Hope College in Holland, Michigan. In her spare time, she enjoys swimming, weight training, reading, and walking her stubborn but affectionate grand-dog, Wrigley.


  • mstair says:

    “Commentators have tried to justify … ”

    Provocative article. Your quote above led me to this train of thought …
    Buying wholesale into the Paul’s teaching, “All Scripture is inspired by God and is profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for instruction in righteousness,”
    sometimes compels us to mentally labor in order to find “some good” in a passage because “God only gives good things.” But, for reproof and correction, there is hardly a selection that is more effective than – just allowing the horror of this one to wash over us.

  • Kathy Davelaar says:

    Thank you Lynn, for this common sense and truthful reflection on scripture and this story in paticular. Great conclusion: sometimes passages only mean, “don’t try to figure out what this means.”

  • James Dekker says:

    Yes, this is not only a “common sense and truthful reflection,” it is also a fine critical comment on one of the many problematic stories in the Bible. I am willing to understand this this is “inspired,” etc., but no fun, for sure. What it does do as a cautionary tale, strikingly applicable today, is fit into the tragic and up and down, yet ultimately downward arc of the history of Israel in the book of Judges. Disobedience leads to God “raising up judges,” many of whom were scoundrels, over and over, while more and more scandalous and murderous events take place, perpetrated by some of those very judges, finally extending to entire tribes–like this one. The whole sinister (literally) plot line of the book eventually becomes brutally ironic at the end of this chapter with the Benjamintes (“sons of my right hand”) producing 700 left-handed warriors, a 700% increase over the sneaky Ehud in Judges 3. Everything is out of whack in Judges by the end. Thank you, Lynn, for this.

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