I am hemmed in on every side
Artemisia Gentileschi’s 1610 painting of the story of Susanna captures the moment when she discovers that she is being watched by two elders who conspire to have sex with her. The painting shows Susanna’s shock, dismay, and vulnerability at the ‘male gaze’ which reduces her to the object of their lust and violates her privacy and her personality.
While the story may have been composed as early as the sixth century BC, it was added to the cycle of stories about Daniel in the first century BC. Some argue for an Hebrew original but the story itself has come down to us in Greek as part of the Septuagint and subsequently included in the Latin Vulgate. Regarded as canonical, though not without debate, by Roman Catholics and the Churches of Eastern Orthodoxy, it is regarded as an Apocryphal text by Protestants. Yet the story of Susanna along with the story of Esther, of Judith and of Sarah (in The Book of Tobit), not to mention the admirable mother of the sons of Eleazar in The Books of Maccabees, contribute to a remarkable collection of texts which deal intentionally with strong, virtuous, and pious women in the face of persecution, adversity, and abuse. They exemplify the classical virtues as seen through the lenses of Hebrew law.
Such stories are intriguing and illuminate an important aspect of the philosophical literature of religious traditions. They reveal the concept of self-correction and self-criticism in the awareness of the limitations of human justice and of its betrayal through the various forms of sin. Here the story is about the attempted abuse of Susanna by the elders who have betrayed their office of guarding and governing their people. Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? Who will guard the guard themselves? The ancient and classic question is our modern question too. “They perverted their minds and turned away their eyes from looking to Heaven or remembering righteous judgements,” as the text puts it.
A gem of a short story from a literary standpoint, it is sometimes regarded as the first detective story. How do we face adversity? How do we face abuse? These are real questions and here those questions are addressed theologically and in terms of character. The story of Susanna has not only influenced a great number of artists, appearing as a fresco in the catacombs of Rome as well the subject of paintings by Tintoretto, Rembrandt, and others, not to mention Artemisia Gentileschi’s achievement. It has also influenced Shakespeare, explicitly in Measure for Measure and in The Merchant of Venice.
“Who will believe thee, Isabel?” Angelo says. “To whom shall I complain? Did I tell this, who would believe me?” Isabel realizes. She, like Susanna, is a woman trapped. Such too is what is at issue in the #metoo movement. At issue in the story are matters of spiritual principle, matters in which we find real freedom, an inner freedom of the spirit. Susanna says, “I choose not to do it and to fall into your hands, rather than to sin in the sight of the Lord.” Does her trust in God mean that she will escape the dilemma? No. It is about an inward conviction and one which relates to a profound ethical concept. It is the idea that it is better to suffer wrong than to do wrong. The point of these stories about these strong women is about the qualities of soul, about the virtues, the principles which belong to the dignity of our humanity especially in the face of human evil, of sin and wickedness.
The story also belongs to a kind of self-critique about the Levitical Laws with respect to sexual morality, particularly, adultery, and, particularly, with respect to women accused of adultery. John’s Gospel, as canonically received by the Christian Churches, includes the story of the woman caught in adultery who is brought before Jesus. The Levitical penalty was for such women to be stoned. That, too, is part of the background here and part of the question about judgement and abuse.
The elders threaten Susanna by saying that they will malign her and accuse her of adultery pretending that they caught her with a young man who then ran away. They are threatening not only to expose her but to condemn her to be stoned – not for her sin but theirs! Susanna stands on the principle of her own integrity and more importantly upon her trust in God, come what may.
The story, as it will unfold in Chapel, will see Susanna condemned only to be saved by Daniel’s intervention, “A Daniel come to judgement,” as Shakespeare puts it in The Merchant of Venice. Through his interrogation of the elders, he catches them out in their lies. Yet at the heart of the story is not so much Susanna as victim but Susanna as strong and virtuous, Susanna as standing on the strength of her principles. At issue, too, will be the condemnation of the elders, the judges, in their abuse of their authority.
Presentism and historicism are two ideologies which in their dogmatic assertions contribute more to our confusion than to our understanding and compassion. The one judges the past from the standpoint of the present, denying the past any integrity, and forgetting, too, that our present will soon be our past; the other focuses simply on the past, denying its voice in the present. What is missing is a deeper engagement with these texts which are both past and present and in very instructive and critical ways. They challenge us about what defines us, about the principles that ennoble human character especially in the face of the abuse and misuse of power.
(Rev’d) David Curry
Chaplain, English & ToK teacher
Chair of the Department of Religion and Philosophy