Book Review: The Crucifixion of Jesus: Torture, Sexual Abuse, and the Scandal of the Cross

This book is also available digitally on Open Access https://doi.org/10.4324/9780429289750

The Crucifixion of Jesus examines crucifixion as a form of torture, state terror and sexual abuse. It considers Jesus as a victim of sexual abuse, an aspect of the gospels’ narratives “hidden in plain sight” and the place it has in discussions of rape culture, and sexual abuse.

In an Introduction, David Tombs outlines the path by which he got into this study through an interest in liberation theology. Here he was taken by the question, posed initially by Jon Sobrino, on how those who had suffered injustice in El Salvador, whom he termed “crucified people”, could be “[taken] down from the cross” (3). This was sharpened by the story of the sexualised torture and death of a Salvadoran health worker. Tombs wanted to explore why sexual violence did not enter into theological reflection and discussion. It is entirely possible that Jesus was a victim of sexual abuse during the trial before Pilate and even on the cross. How might this speak to the experience of sexual violence and abuse today and how might it offer a path to restoration of human dignity?

Three relatively short chapters follow in which Tombs examines the New Testament texts of the stripping of Jesus during his examination before Pilate and his crucifixion, before a chapter exploring ways in which the issue of sexual abuse may be considered in the light of these texts, and ways to enable the church face the issues and victims to find some restoration of dignity and self-worth. Tombs is careful to warn against any adverse reactions the material might cause for readers, and deals with issues with restraint and care.

Chapter One: “The Strippings” approaches the strippings of Jesus in Pilate’s praetorium through an analysis of the nature, role and function of stripping prisoners at Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq by the US military police. He outlines various levels of stripping, some for legitimate reasons, others for psychological purposes to control and make prisoners feel vulnerable. After considering attitudes to nudity in Roman Judea, and amongst Romans and Greeks generally, Tombs discusses the strippings of Jesus by the soldiers while in the praetorium.

The plural “strippings” is deliberate as Tombs maintains that a careful reading of the text suggests that during the flogging, and when Jesus was dressed in royal robes, he would have been disrobed several times (Matthew’s text suggests four times, Mark’s at least three). The stripping of Jesus was not only part of preparation for flogging, but was designed to humiliate Jesus. Jesus would have been stripped again when he was crucified, and hung on the cross. This enforced nudity was not only abusive, controlling and humiliating, but a form of sexual abuse. “Stripping and enforced nudity have a psychological impact precisely because they are targeted at the victim’s sexual identity and increase sexual vulnerability” (15). Tombs points out that the International Criminal Court and the Hague Principles on Sexual Violence both recognise enforced nudity as sexual violence.

In Chapter Two, “The Mocking”, Tombs considers whether there is evidence of further sexual abuse and assault, though he admits that the nature of the texts mean that this is necessarily speculative. Nonetheless, circumstantial evidence of sexualised violence against Roman captives, a marble relief of Claudius Caesar defeating Britannia, the fact that the Septuagint uses the same term for the treatment of the Levite’s wife (Judges 19) as Matthew uses for the mocking of Jesus (Matt 27:29), Saul’s fear of sexualised violence (1 Samuel 31:4, where the Hebrew phrasing is the same as that used for the treatment of the Levite’s wife), and the sexual insults against Herod Agrippa’s daughters after his death, all suggest that Jesus may have been treated similarly. Given that the whole cohort (five hundred soldiers) were called to witness and take part in the mocking of Jesus, it is possible that some soldiers may have beaten, or attacked, Jesus’s genitals.

In Chapter Three, “Crucifixion”, Tombs discusses the fact that crucifixion being a public spectacle of violence meant there was strong antipathy towards it in the Roman world. It was seen as “slaves’ punishment”, only for such individuals, as well as bandits and insurgents. A strong degree of shame attached to crucifixion, not least because the victims were crucified naked. Tombs discusses three instances of early art depicting a naked crucified man, two of them possibly suggesting an element of sexualised violence. Some forms of crucifixion actually involved impalement. Although the evidence is ambivalent, a statement by Seneca, “I set my seat on the piercing cross”, may suggest impalement on a small protruding stick on the “sedile” (a seat that the victim sat on).

The final chapter (Chapter Four: “Resurrection”) Tombs writes of how the idea that Jesus suffered sexual abuse in his crucifixion can be confronting, and rejected by some. This leads to a discussion of how victims of sexual abuse can suffer blame, including self-reproach and blaming themselves, and stigma. Though not at fault, they can be held to be “damaged goods”; and the negative judgments of society can be strong and absorbed by survivors, and act like a “second assault”. Stigma results in “spoiled identity” and stigma and discrimination can exist even within the church. Secondary victimisation may be longer-lasting than the original assault (70).

Tombs offers Contextual Bible Study as one resource for dealing with these issues; and he provides an example based on Matt 27:26–31. If Jesus suffered abuse, even sexual abuse, then it is difficult to dismiss such as unimportant, and this may mitigate both rejection of the issue, and victim-blaming. Finally, Tombs discusses the fact that later Christian art has often represented the crucified Jesus as wearing a loincloth. Though this may be seen as a way of avoiding the shame and suggestion of abuse that naked representation brings, it may also be a way of providing a “creative reinterpretation” that restores dignity. The art is a way to “symbolically re-cover and re-dress Jesus” as a way to restore dignity (74).

The resurrection, too, following crucifixion is a restoration of dignity and an affirmation of human worth in the face of degradation (75). Resurrection enables seeing crucifixion and the degradation of the victim in new ways, provided it is not trivialised. We must ensure that such a view of resurrection is helpful to survivors.

While the topic is confronting, Tombs is sensitive and careful in his discussion of it. The book, used in the right context, not only can illuminate the suffering that Jesus endured in his trial and crucifixion, but it can open up discussion of how to deal with the topic of sexual abuse to bring empathy for, and understanding of, victims of such abuse, and provide ways of healing and hope for survivors.

Derek Tovey is the book review editor for Stimulus.