So You Think You Own My Uterus?
I wrote this essay for a class I took in college called God & Gender in the spring of 2020. In this class we deconstructed ideas around sex, sexuality, pleasure, and what all of this has to do with biblical teachings, the concept of what many people call God, and the misuse (and abuse) of biblical texts.
Unfortunately this topic is still, if not more, applicable with the overturning of Roe vs. Wade now in 2022. People with the capacity to bear children should always have the final say in matters of pregnancy, birth, and child-rearing. As should everyone have the final say in matters of their own bodies.
We live in a society that doesn’t support the lives of those who are already earth-side, yet will fight tooth and nail for the unborn. Why? It doesn’t require any systemic change or critical thinking about one’s own biases and upbringing. It doesn’t require the work and time it takes to educate oneself on the science, the facts or statistics. It doesn’t require empathy for people who are often “othered” and pushed to the margins.
I am an angry, nasty woman and here is my essay xoxo
So You Think You Own My Uterus?
Reproductive rights are a highly political topic which no one is exempt from coming across. There are many complex aspects to reproductive health and rights, but the most prominent discussion in recent years surrounds abortion. There are many reasons as to why people support or condemn the legalization of abortion, and they are often deeply rooted and congruent with one’s world view. Many Christians, a group I perceive to be a dominating force on the anti-abortion front, have made their stance clear in the name of God, but what does God have to do with this? I would like to take one step back to speculate Christianity’s role in reproductive rights as a whole, not just as it pertains to abortion. Through its continued use of male-dominant God-language, promotion of purity culture, and role in the justification of gender violence, Christianity perpetuates the challenges that keep women from having complete control over their reproduction.
In early manuscripts of the Bible, the language that surrounded God was non-gendered, very different from the way God is depicted in later biblical texts and in modern society. Gendered language, though it allows us to process information in clear schemas, is also limiting. While masculine and feminine characteristics are helpful in describing things in simple terms, the truth is that gender is fluid: one’s biological sex does not limit one’s ability to have both what has been deemed feminine and masculine characteristics. When gendered language is used strictly when describing God, it undoubtedly influences how we see gender, and our own roles within that understanding. Historically, the Hebrew word Yahweh (YHWH) was a name for God rather than a title (Clifford, 99). The distinction here is the difference between calling a person by their name, compared to their occupation. In later biblical texts, words like Adonai, Kyrios, and Dominus were used in exchange for other God-words, all of which describe mastery, dominion, and lordship (Clifford, 99). More than an accurate description of who or what God is, these words pertain to historical and cultural context they were written in under the Roman Empire, a patriarchal and oppressive government. The continued use of male symbology for God perpetuates male dominance (Clifford, 93). This can be seen within many Christian structures, ideologies, and traditions.
One convention that many Christian women are familiar with is abstinence from sexual intercourse until marriage. It is common for churches to preach abstinence and promote purity culture, which is a fair choice for one to make, however, it is important to critically analyze how purity culture is supported by patriarchy. Generally, virginal ideals of women are rooted in male sexual fantasy. This fantasy contributes to the Christian belief that women who are sexually active prior to marriage are tainted. Many young people, despite their Christian background, have come to understand a woman’s role in sex is merely the place of conception, and engagement beyond the confines of conception (within marriage) is “a potential health hazard” (Freitas, 131). It is important to note that this sense of “taintedness” only applies to women. For the most part, male sexual activity prior to marriage is acceptable, occasionally encouraged depending on the culture. If sex apart from reproduction is considered sinful for women, then there is no question why birth control within Christian communities is often forbidden and seen as going against God’s will. Birth control would not be necessary if people limited sexual engagements to reproduction alone, but we know this is not the case, nor has it ever been. Even so, Biblical teachings in the church even go so far as to say that sexual expressions beyond man and woman, especially those between women, are “punishable by death” (Plaskow, Good Sex, 131). Not only this, but sex beyond marriage and beyond heterosexual relationships are invisible to many Christian communities. In the chance that sex is ever discussed, it only pertains to that between husband and wife, man and woman.
By promoting abstinence rather than educating people on what safe and good sex can look like, in all of its forms, Christianity perpetuates the notion that a woman’s body is not hers to have agency over. This brings up the question, if agency is not hers, whose is it? Donna Freitas found that nearly every woman she interviewed “who wore a promise ring had received this gift from her father” as a representation of “his responsibility to see to it” that she remains pure until marriage, where her virginity is presented as a gift to her husband (Freitas, 85). As if it is not confusing enough that a daughter’s body is not much more than an object of male pride (for a father) and pleasure (for a husband), the notion of purity itself is ill-defined. In my experience, churches do not explicitly tell you what is and is not acceptable. The possibility for purity to “encompass a wide range of possible behaviors” leaves many girls and women to justify their actions, producing shame and guilt for simply attempting to claim agency over their sexual activity (Freitas, 84). I have definitely struggled with this, and have seen many of my friends struggle to figure out the faith-sex relationship, too. One particular memory that comes to mind comes from a conference I attended when I was around 14 years old. One of the male speakers presented a moving speech about why all of the young girls in the audience should “wait for steak”, and remain abstinent until marriage. I can vividly remember shouting that I would “wait for steak”, and while this definitely reminded me of the loving partnership I deserve in life, it did not clarify any part of my humanity as a sexual being. If anything, it swept all feelings and questions under the rug. There I was, listening to the advice of a man telling me that the male God of our church wanted me to remain sexually pure. Never has it been so clear that a large part of Christian tradition prioritizes the control of female sexual activity and reproduction, keeping patriarchal norms and male control in place.
The subliminal messages of male dominance through gendered God-language coupled with the explicit tradition of purity culture allows for the justification of gender violence, one of the most dangerous challenges women face when reaching for control over their reproduction. As touched on above, husbands are presented with a woman’s purity as a gift, as though it is his for the taking. Therefore, a woman’s lack of virginity, thus her reproduction, is also up to her husband as the head of house. This perspective seems to suggest “the wife’s only essential role consists in her willingness to receive semen” (Jung, Good Sex, 78). Supposing the willingness of a woman is far less important than a woman being the object that receives semen, then men are granted implicit permission to have sex with their wives, despite her wellbeing, desires, or consent, legitimizing rape. Many stories within the Bible portray such violence as normal, even Godly. The story of Hagar in Genesis is particularly troubling because it shows Hagar, a woman and a slave of Sarah, completely powerless over her body. She is abused sexually (by Abraham) and physically (by Sarah), yet Abraham is depicted as completely blameless, reinforcing the patriarchal structure (Trible, 19). Furthermore, Abraham is directly benefiting from the trauma of women, as Sarah is blamed for her barrenness and pitted against Hagar, who is then raped, resulting in the birth of Abraham's first male heir, which grants Abraham continued respect and elevated status as the head patriarch. Hagar’s assault is not depicted as rape in the Bible, but as Abraham’s duty for the sake of his family. Furthermore, Sarah is praised for her patience and for allowing her husband to sleep with another woman as a part of God’s will, however, there is no indication Hagar was on board with this so-called God-plan, because as soon as she got the chance, she fled.
While pregnancy for many is a choice, privilege, and a source of joy, there is always the reality of the opposite. Christianity can be used to legitimize rape, discourage the use of birth control, and invalidate reason for abortion, yet “more women still die from pregnancy than from abortion” (Deifelt, Good Sex, 103). If males alone are in charge of a woman’s reproduction, she could be forced into a death sentence. Even so, women’s perspectives and beliefs surrounding their duty to carry a child are subconsciously skewed by male control. In Latin America, it is commonly believed amonst women that their sexuality is “in service of their male partners” (Deifelt, Good Sex, 106). Sexuality is multilayered and can be expressed in many ways, but like gendered language, beliefs of women for sexual service to male partners places limits on sexual possibilities, and continues the cycle of traditional submission by women to men. All of this diminishes a woman’s right to control her body, and moreover eliminates the possibility for sexual pleasure. In the 1950s, a study done by Alfred Kinsey found that Christianity “ negatively impacted women’s capacity for experiencing pleasure”, going so far as to say that the more devoted women are to Christianity, the “fewer orgasms they reported” (Jung, Good Sex, 90). Based on what I have presented in this paper, I speculate this lack of pleasure is related to confusion, guilt, and pressure to fulfill sexual ideals Christians often paint for women and girls starting at a young age.
Women have made great strides toward equality in the United States and globally, but we are still fighting for access to birth control, the choice to have an abortion, and protection against sexual assault. With recent reversals to Roe v. Wade, I feel a sense of obligation to have a critical eye on the systems which contribute to patriarchal norms and justification of many injustices, especially in the United States. It is part of this obligation that I seek to write about these things, in hopes of challenging beliefs surrounding sexuality and pleasure for women. Christianity, as I have written about here, is broad, and I recognize not every congregation or branch holds the same beliefs. With that being said, I cannot deny that Christianity has, can, and is used to justify limiting women’s access to birth control and taking away one’s right to have agency over her body. As a woman raised in a Lutheran household, I have been subjected to the pressures of a male-God driven purity culture, unintentionally, but still. I have subconscious beliefs that true fulfillment is only found in heterosexual marriages, and that I need men to be strong and brave for me. I also, for a long time, found myself in coercive relationships in which I tolerated more emotional distress than I ever should have. I now recognize these things and actively try to challenge them in my own life, but it is so deeply ingrained in our culture, I fear that many people do not see the impact it has on understanding self-worth and happiness. I am grateful for the opportunity to express my experiences and see that I am not alone in my confusion, grappling, or frustration as I figure out my place in the world. At the end of the day, for all people and especially for women, the body you are in is yours, and yours alone; you have every right to choose what to do with it.
Works Cited
Clifford, Anne M. Introducing Feminist Theology. Maryknoll: Orbis, 2001.
Freitas, Donna, Sex and the Soul: Juggling Sexuality, Spirituality, Romance, and Religion on America's College Campuses. New York: Oxford University Press, 2008.
Jung, Patricia B. and others. Good sex: Feminist perspectives from the world’s religions. New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 2001.
Trible, Phyllis. Texts of Terror: Literary Feminist Readings of Biblical Narratives. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984.
