The Tangled Web

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Tangled Web” 2 Samuel 11:1-15

The abuse of power is the misuse of our authority. We may oppress other people or coerce them to do wrong. It can happen in politics, in the workplace, or even in our own homes. The 18th century French philosopher Montesquieu, who was the first to formulate the separation of powers in government, once wrote, “Constant experience shows us that every man invested with power is apt to abuse it, and to carry his authority as far as it will go.”

On the American political front, perhaps the most notorious late-twentieth-century example of abuse of power was Watergate. In 1972, President Richard Nixon and his reelection committee engaged in illegal clandestine operations and got caught. On June 17th of that year, five burglars were arrested by plainclothes police officers in the Democratic National Headquarters on the sixth floor of the Watergate office building. The team was planting listening devices and photographing files. In the investigation that followed, forty government officials were indicted. Eight went to jail, including White House staff members HR Haldeman and John Erlichman, as well as Attorney General John Mitchell. When tape recordings linked the President to the burglary and cover-up, Nixon resigned, saying that he no longer had “a strong enough political base” with which to govern.

Power is abused in the workplace. 41.4% of workers say that they have experienced psychological aggression and bullying on the job. We’ve had bosses who intentionally embarrass workers, mock their mistakes, spread stories, shout, blame, and threaten. It may go so far as sabotaging someone’s career or manipulating co-workers to join in the abuse, creating a toxic workplace. Does any of this sound uncomfortably familiar? In one study, more than half of women reported that they have been victims of unwanted sexual behavior at work. That’s an unfortunate reality that was long kept quiet until the #MeToo movement made it headline news. Powerful people in the entertainment industry, like Harvey Weinstein and Bill Cosby, have lost high-profile court cases for sexually exploiting vulnerable women.

Our scripture reading this morning is all about the abuse of power. When the Israelites demanded a king, God warned them of the consequences (1 Sam. 8). Sounding a lot like Montesquieu, God had cautioned that a king would lord it over them: take their sons and deploy them in endless battles, take their daughters “to become perfumers, cooks, and bakers,” take the best of their harvest, vineyards, slaves, and livestock. Despite this, the people clamored for a king to rule over them. Things hadn’t gone so well with the first king, Saul, but then Samuel anointed David, the shepherd boy with a heart for God.

At first, it seemed that the Lord had been overly pessimistic about human nature. David proved his loyalty to Israel and God. He defeated Goliath. He led the Israelite troops in their defeat of their enemies. He lamented the deaths of Saul and Jonathan. He earned the loyalty and respect of all twelve tribes. He sang and danced with holy joy before the Ark of the Covenant.

Yet as our reading begins, we encounter a middle-aged David. The bored king used his royal privilege to remain behind while Joab and the army lay siege to Rabbah. Unable to sleep, David spent an evening spying on his neighbors from the roof of his palace. He saw a young woman, Bathsheba, engaged in the ritual bath of purification that was practiced by observant women after their monthly cycle. Enthralled by Bathsheba’s beauty, the king sent guards to bring her to the palace where he sexually exploited her and then threw her away, sending her back to home.  David believed that his power and her shame would force her to keep the secret of his abuse. When the violated Bathsheba later sent word that she was pregnant, David further exploited his power with the proxy murder of Uriah, after the man proved to be so righteous that he would not break his vow of celibacy for battle, even when pressured to do so by his king.

It’s a terrible story. As it reaches its inevitable conclusion, David feels that all the mischief has been managed. He shows no signs of remorse. And the pregnant Bathsheba ends up married to the man who raped her and murdered her husband, a man who already had eight wives and concubines, as well as sexual access to all the servants, slaves, and prostitutes of his kingdom.

It’s interesting to look at the history of interpretation for this story. Scholars and preachers have portrayed Bathsheba as a scheming seductress, who wantonly induces the king’s desire. They have also suggested that this is a simple case of temptation, that the beauty of Bathsheba overcame the king’s better judgment, and one mistake led to another. We have even been subjected to a Hollywood retelling that casts David and Bathsheba as star-crossed lovers whose irresistible affections set into motion tragic events. Let’s be honest. Those ways of looking at the story are all ways of blaming the victim, of making the righteous Bathsheba responsible for the sexual assault that she endured when David’s guards showed up at her door to take her into custody.

Some things never change. Police and District Attorneys will tell you how very difficult it is to prosecute rape cases. Victims are characterized as promiscuous sluts. Their clothing or demeanor is said to have been “just asking for it.” And the victims themselves struggle with the shame of making public their experience of abuse—even as they are re-traumatized by cross-examination, publicity, and innuendo in the court of public opinion.

The story of David’s actions also reveals that the abuse of power has multiple victims. Bathsheba is obviously wronged. But so are the guards who must collect and deliver Bathsheba on the king’s orders. They know what will happen when she is left alone in the company of the king, without a father or husband to protect her. General Joab is caught in David’s terrible web. He must engineer the death of Uriah, a valiant and loyal soldier under his command, or face the consequences of disobeying a direct order from his king. Even the Ammonites, Israel’s enemies, are implicated as they are used to fire the arrows that will bring to fruition David’s murderous scheme.

Abuses of power have many victims. President Richard Nixon’s bid to ensure his continued power may have targeted the DNC, but look at all the people who were caught in his tangled web: the five Cuban ex-patriots who enacted the burglary, the forty White House officials who were indicted, the eight men who went jail because they acted on the President’s orders, and ultimately the American people whose trust in free and fair elections was undermined by the realities of political intrigue and abuse.

The same is true in our workplaces. Executives who exploit their power to dip into the corporate till exploit the trust of their board, rob their shareholders, and draw their families into their malfeasance. Workplace bullies harm not only the colleagues they abuse, but also their co-workers who are coopted into shunning the victim, covering up for the boss’s sins, or perpetrating their own abuse in a jobsite that becomes dog-eat-dog. Workers who are sexually harassed are wronged—and so are their spouses or their boyfriends or girlfriends, so are their children.

Perhaps what is most disturbing about how we have historically responded to stories like the one we are considering today is that it reveals our tendency to want to protect those who are in power, especially if their power serves our own interest. We blame Bathsheba instead of David. We give the pilfering CEO a golden parachute, and they move on to their next six-figure job where they do the same thing. We make excuses for the rage-a-holic boss, saying he’s just having a bad day, or she is going through a rough time at home, or look at how productive they are, making money for the company. We justify the antics of favorite politicians, thinking that while we don’t like what they say or do, at least they will ensure that the policies we prefer will be enacted.

In our summer sermon series, David has been our hero in the faith, but this week, as the power he wields goes to his head, David becomes our anti-hero. Indeed, his actions are the antithesis of our Lord Jesus, who came with the power of God almighty and chose to use that holy power to help and heal. Instead of lording it over the people, Jesus lived with and for the people, showing them the better way of love. And when he ran afoul of the powers of empire and temple, Jesus revealed the limitless breadth of that love, surrendering his power and laying down his life on the cross for us. Jesus set an example that continues to call us to responsibly use the authority that has been placed in our hands.

It is time for us to stop enabling abusers. It is time for us to honestly look at biblical stories like David and Bathsheba. It is time for us to honestly look at political and workplace misconduct and name those actions for what they truly are: abuses of power. It really is that simple. May we go forth to hold power responsibly and demand that others do the same.

Resources

Manuela Priesemuth. “Time’s Up for Toxic Workplaces” in Harvard Business Review, June 19, 2020. Accessed online at https://hbr.org/2020/06/times-up-for-toxic-workplaces

Coline de Silans. “Power tripping: what to do when someone misuses their authority at work,” in Welcome to the Jungle, Sept. 22, 2020. Accessed online at https://www.welcometothejungle.com/en/articles/preventing-power-tripping-abuse-at-work

Rick Perlstein. “Watergate Scandal” in Britannica, July 24, 2024. Accessed online at https://www.britannica.com/event/Watergate-Scandal

Richard W. Nysse. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 11:1-15” in Preaching This Week, July 26, 2009. Accessed online at  Commentary on 2 Samuel 11:1-15 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Gennifer Brooks. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 11:1-15” in Preaching This Week, July 29, 2018. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 11:1-15 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Timothy L. Adkins-Jones. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 11:1-15” in Preaching This Week, July 25, 2021. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 11:1-15 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Wil Gafney. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 11:1-15” in Preaching This Week, July 26, 2015. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 11:1-15 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary


2 Samuel 11:1-15

11 In the spring when kings march out to war, David sent Joab with his officers and all Israel. They destroyed the Ammonites and besieged Rabbah, but David remained in Jerusalem.

One evening David got up from his bed and strolled around on the roof of the palace. From the roof he saw a woman bathing—a very beautiful woman. So David sent someone to inquire about her, and he reported, “This is Bathsheba, daughter of Eliam and wife of Uriah the Hittite.”

David sent messengers to get her, and when she came to him, he slept with her. Now she had just been purifying herself from her uncleanness. Afterward, she returned home. The woman conceived and sent word to inform David: “I am pregnant.”

David sent orders to Joab: “Send me Uriah the Hittite.” So Joab sent Uriah to David. When Uriah came to him, David asked how Joab and the troops were doing and how the war was going. Then he said to Uriah, “Go down to your house and wash your feet.” So Uriah left the palace, and a gift from the king followed him. But Uriah slept at the door of the palace with all his master’s servants; he did not go down to his house.

10 When it was reported to David, “Uriah didn’t go home,” David questioned Uriah, “Haven’t you just come from a journey? Why didn’t you go home?”

11 Uriah answered David, “The ark, Israel, and Judah are dwelling in tents, and my master Joab and his soldiers are camping in the open field. How can I enter my house to eat and drink and sleep with my wife? As surely as you live and by your life, I will not do this!”

12 “Stay here today also,” David said to Uriah, “and tomorrow I will send you back.” So Uriah stayed in Jerusalem that day and the next. 13 Then David invited Uriah to eat and drink with him, and David got him drunk. He went out in the evening to lie down on his cot with his master’s servants, but he did not go home.

14 The next morning David wrote a letter to Joab and sent it with Uriah. 15 In the letter he wrote:

Put Uriah at the front of the fiercest fighting, then withdraw from him so that he is struck down and dies.


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We Too

Clergy Women Speak out about Their Experience

The nation may be having a “Me Too” moment, but sexual harassment is alive and well in the church.  The target?  Women clergy.

It starts early.  As a student pastor, I noticed that my sermon feedback forms sometimes contained unsolicited, inappropriate comments. “Nice legs.” “Love your dress.” “Easy on the eyes.” “How do you keep that figure?”  When asked if he had similar experiences, my colleague and supervisor Jeff was red-faced with shock. “No!  Never!”

Pastor Laurena served two small yoked churches in rural New York.  While still a newcomer to the ministry, she made a pastoral visit to a widower to plan his wife’s funeral.  He greeted her at the door in his bathrobe and slippers. “Please pardon my appearance.  I haven’t been feeling well.  I thought, for sure, my wife would outlive me. Can you come in?”

Laurena did.  After planning the funeral at the kitchen table, her elderly host opened his robe and flashed her.  She ran.  “The worst thing,” Laurena laughs, “was that I still had to do the funeral!”

Harassment is often expressed more subtly as parishioners refer to their women pastors as sweetie, sweetheart, honey, kiddo, girl, girlfriend, and in one case, “the witch.”  In a particularly newsworthy case, Rev. Dr. Amy K. Butler, who pastored Riverside Church in New York City, one of the pre-eminent Protestant congregations in the country, received a bottle of wine and a tee-shirt from a former member of the church’s governing council.  Both bore the label “Sweet Bitch.”  When confronted about sexist labels and names, most parishioners will stop, but some persist.

Misconduct is experienced by even the most respected and experienced of women religious professionals.  A female seminary professor relates that one day, while she was making copies in a common area, an older, influential, married male colleague stopped by and stood close behind.  “Mmmm,” he purred, rubbing her shoulders and back.  She also shared about incipient sexism.  For example, male faculty members regularly expect her to take notes and minutes for meetings.  Pastor, professor, and secretary?

Beyond the sexualized comments and behaviors, women clergy experience spectacular, gender-based, public challenges to authority that their male colleagues do not.  An Episcopal priest, Anne, reminisced about her earliest days in ministry at a multi-staff church.  One Sunday, a woman colleague served communion, a first for the church. The members didn’t like it.  Indeed, some refused to receive the sacrament.  Anne relates that the matter was resolved after the fact by a male priest, who took the most influential complainant aside, explaining to him that he was “not rejecting the woman celebrant, but he was rejecting Jesus. Those were sobering words, and the woman priest had no trouble from then on.”

Not all women clergy have the support of male colleagues.  A smalltown pastor shares that she participated in an annual ecumenical community festival.  All clergy were invited to preach, but when she took the pulpit, the men walked out and the women turned their backs.  “I was grateful to the congregation I served who defended my role before their fellow townspeople. Still, it was a lonely place to be.”

Women clergy express disappointment that some of the most persistent challenges to their authority come from other women.  A number of clergywomen indicated that they had been targeted by gossip within church women’s circles, a grapevine that critiqued everything: weight, hairstyle, clothing, parenting, and marriages.  Sadly, female parishioners are sometimes the most vocal in rejecting a woman’s calling to ministry and place in the pulpit.

One pastor recalls the day that a local woman worshiped with her rural church for the first time.  After the service was over, the woman berated her.  “Women are not supposed to preach.  We are to learn from men in submission and silence.”

In reflecting on their experiences of misconduct, many clergywomen report that they are unclear how to respond.  Those who entered the ministry decades ago simply found that harassment “goes with the territory.” 

Even if women wish to take action, they may not have a process or a support network that can assist them.  Mennonite pastor Melissa Florer-Bixler reports that although churches have publicly embraced the “Safe Sanctuaries” movement that guards church members against sexual misconduct, few denominations have developed policies or procedures to address sexual harassment and bullying of women clergy.  It’s problematic that the people who harass may also be the people who hold the purse strings and control compensation.  Also, church personnel matters are typically handled by member volunteers who are untrained in matters of misconduct and bullying.

The harassment that clergywomen experience reveals an underlying ethos of gender bias that is pervasive, even among the progressive mainline protestant churches that have been ordaining women for more than sixty years.  Female pastors are paid less than men.  The 2019 Presbyterian Church (USA) salary survey (the most recent data available) indicates that women have lower effective salaries in every region of the country and in every ministerial capacity.  Female pastors make on average thirteen percent or $8,503 less than their male counterparts.  The General Assembly of the PC(USA) resolved in 2018 to urge their 166 constituent Presbyteries to “act decisively and embrace a goal of gender equity for all ministers.”  Even with decisive action, the gap won’t be bridged any time soon.

An Alabama Methodist clergywoman relates that even when churches are willing to change, forces within denominations sometimes are not. “I was offered a significant raise by my church when I became the senior pastor.  But the bishop at the time had the church reduce my salary by $5,000.  The bishop told me it could be bad for my husband’s self-esteem if I made so much money since my husband was clergy as well, it might be hard on our marriage.”

Yet the problem is more than pay.  The Hartford Institute for Religion and Research reports that only twenty percent of mainline congregations are led by women.  Female pastors are much more likely to serve in smaller congregations, often with limited finances and big problems.  Indeed, only a handful of large, high-steeple churches have women serving as heads of staff. 

Lee Hinson-Hasty of the Committee on Theological Education has an insider’s perspective on the dynamics of gender as men and women respond to God’s call.  In a blog post, Hinson-Hasty suggests that churches—and the committees that prepare candidates for ministry—still give priority to men, even as more women are ordained.  On average, it takes women longer to move through the ordination process.  Upon graduation from seminary, men are more likely to have been offered jobs.  Once ordained, women not only are paid less, they are also fifteen percent less likely to have benefits like healthcare, pension, and insurance.

Increasingly, denominations realize that, if change is to come, action is needed.  Both the United Methodist Church (UMC) and the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) have taken creative initiatives to raise awareness of the experience of clergywomen with videos that show male pastors reading aloud the outrageous, sexist comments that are routinely said to their female counterparts. 

Imagine a grey-haired pastor in a clerical collar stating, “Now that you’re pregnant, your belly sticks out further than your boobs,” or a bearded, young, hipster pastor saying, “I keep picturing you naked under your robe.”  The spontaneous shock and discomfort of the men highlights the seriousness of the problem.  They were incredulous, demoralized, angered.  One male pastor said afterward, “My heart is broken.”

The resulting short films, “#HerTruth” and “Seriously? Actual Things Said to Female Pastors in the NC Synod,” aired at the conferences’ annual meetings and were greeted with standing ovations.  According to the UMC Commission on the Status and Role of Women, the object of the videos was to make church members uncomfortable with the sexism that female pastors routinely experience. The Rev. Chrysti Dye, who chairs the North Carolina commission, said “There’s a collective hope that you’re lifting the veil on a culture in society and in the church of demeaning women, sexualizing them and objectifying them.  We want to wake up everyone.”

Despite the harassment, sexism, and gender bias, women clergy persist.  They do so because God has called them to ministry.  That holy purpose counter balances the hardship.  Some women even affirm that their church work is uniquely rewarding in gender-specific ways.

Jane, who specialized in pastoral care as a minister with a multi-staff church, feels that her identity as a woman allowed her to make a healing difference in the lives of her female parishioners, especially women over sixty. 

A 75-year-old woman made an appointment to see Jane.  “Her husband had been dead a good ten years. She confessed that she had an affair when she was in her 20s and her husband was in the service. It had paralyzed her for years. I was able to put a priestly hat on and offer her God’s forgiveness through prayer.  She wept and said it was a gift to be able to let this burden go.  She said she never would have said this to a male pastor.”

Katrina echoes Jane’s belief in the special ability of women clergy to help and heal.  She has a memory that she deeply cherishes.  She was pastoring an elderly woman, widowed for over 40 years, who one day offhandedly mentioned that she always accepted hugs because she didn’t get enough physical touch in her life.  “After I learned that,” Katrina says, “anytime we’d happen to sit next to each other at coffee hour I’d reach for her hand under the table.  We would carry on regular conversation above the table while secretly holding hands below.  Her eyes would shine at me, overflowing with love in these brief moments of physical connection and care.”  It was an act of caring that would be off limits to male clergy, whose handholding might be construed as a sexual advance.

Woman clergy also find blessing in their special capacity to balance mothering and pastoring.

Melodie remembers the Sunday morning that she was charged with leading worship and caring for her two-year-old granddaughter, “In the middle of the sermon she stripped off all her clothes, stood on the front pew, and announced, ‘Memama, I’m naked!’ That was the end of worship that day! Everyone laughed!”

I’ve had those special moments, too.  In a program with children, I asked each of them to write their name on a piece of white paper.  The other kids were then invited to add the gifts and special abilities that they saw in one another.  On my paper, someone scrawled, “A good Mom.”  I don’t have children.  Not long before, we had gone through a miscarriage. “A good Mom” felt like a blow to the gut.  I learned that it was written by four-year-old Lizzie with the help of her older brother Matt.  Lizzie had decided—and told her parents—that if anything happened to them, she wanted me to be her Mom.  I kept that paper taped to the door of the pastor’s study for years.

Clergymen may not have the same experiences of harassment and gender bias.  They may be paid more.  They may serve larger churches with bigger bank accounts.  They may have better benefits.  But I bet that never happened to a male pastor.

Thank you to the many clergy women who shared their experiences with me.


Resources:

Melissa Florer-Bixler. “When Your Sexual Harassers Sit in Your Pews” in Sojourners, July 11, 2019.  Accessed online at sojo.net.

Sam Hodges. “New Video Calls Out Harassment of Women Clergy” in United Methodist News, June 25, 2019.  Accessed online at umnews.org.

Hinson-Hasty, Lee. “More Presbyterian Women Ordained than Men 2001-2016” in Theological Education Matters, August 13, 2018.  Accessed on-line at presbyterianfoundation.org.

North Alabama Conference of the United Methodist Church. #HerTruth, Nov. 10, 2016.  Accessed online at  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xZk4ssVKHpA&t=8s

North Carolina Synod of the ELCA. Seriously? Actual Things Said to Female Pastors in the NC Synod, October 10, 2018.  Accessed online at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bTcaAkG86QQ

Presbyterian Church (USA). Living by the Gospel: A Guide to Structuring Ministers’ Terms of Call as Authorized by the 223rd General Assembly. Louisville: Office of the General Assembly, 2019 (updated 2021).  Accessed online at https://www.pensions.org/file/our-role-and-purpose/the-connectional-church/living-by-the-gospel/Documents/pln-619.pdf/

Rick Rojas. “Pastor’s Exit Exposes Cultural Rifts at a Leading Liberal Church, July 11, 2019 in The New York Times.  Accessed online at http://www.nytimes.com.

Yonat Shimron. “New Video Captures Sexist Comments to Women—Read by Male Counterparts” in Religion News Service, June 20, 2019.  Accessed online at https://religionnews.com/2019/06/20/new-video-captures-sexist-comments-to-women-ministers-read-by-male-counterparts/https://religionnews.com/2019/06/20/new-video-captures-sexist-comments-to-women-ministers-read-by-male-counterparts/.


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