Dinah: The Forgotten Girl of Genesis

Can we talk about Dinah?
​
Okay, let’s talk about Dinah.

I never heard this story in Sunday school. In fact, I don’t think I ever heard this story at church at all. We hear about Jacob’s twelve sons on a regular basis, but never, if ever, do we discuss Jacob’s daughter.

Most Biblical genealogies would gloss her over with a quick “Jacob also had a daughter.” But Dinah is mentioned by name multiple times.

Other than that, Dinah gets one chapter to her name, and that chapter is Genesis 34. Before we even get into it, I’ll say that it is intense and it is mature. (Don’t let anyone tell you there is not explicit content in the Bible.)

With that in mind, this article will reference sexual abuse, rape, and graphic violence, although I will keep details as discreet as possible.

If you want the full story, you can read Genesis 34 for yourself, which is where I found myself the other day. I’ll sum up here.

Dinah leaves home one day to visit her friends—nothing weird for a girl to do. Before she can arrive, a local chieftain kidnaps her and rapes her. This piece of trash has a name—Shechem. And he becomes absolutely obsessed with Dinah. So he demands his father Hamor get her for his wife—presumably so the abuse could continue.

Dinah’s father Jacob hears about this, but he opts to stay silent until his sons have returned from caring for the livestock. The sons hear about it anyway—although not from their father—and return just in time for Shechem and Hamor to pay the family a visit.

Note that Dinah herself hasn’t come home. Shechem is holding her hostage.

Hamor tries to control the damage, claiming that Shechem has “set his heart on Dinah” and detailing all the benefits that could come from a marriage between their two people groups. Shechem takes it a step further, claiming he will give them whatever they want in exchange for Dinah.

The sons know exactly what they want. And here’s where it gets a little wild. They claim that they can’t give their sister to an uncircumcised man—which checks out since for some reason, that symbolized God’s promise to them.

So Hamor and Shechem fall for it. Which provides the perfect opportunity for Jacob’s sons Simeon and Levi to sneak into their city and kill every male. They rescue Dinah and plunder the homes left behind—but notably leave the women and children untouched.

When they arrive home, Jacob only worries that the remaining local nations will unite against them. But Simeon and Levi answer, “Should they treat our sister like this?”

Brutal, right? I mean, why would I opt to recount that story here?

Because every story in the Bible is included for a reason. Even the most graphic and tragic and brutal ones.

God included the story of an abused girl being avenged for a reason.

Like I said, I’ve never heard this story taught in church. But when people have discussed it or I’ve run across it in devotionals, it has been used as a caution against anger and the perils of revenge. Jacob is extolled as a good example for ignoring Dinah’s abuse.

To be fair, we could debate the morality (or lack thereof) of Simeon and Levi’s actions all day long.

But God allowed them to have this revenge, and He made sure it was recorded in His book.

That tells me that it matters to Him. All the abuse that Dinah suffered mattered to Him. And whether or not Simeon and Levi’s actions were right or wrong, God avenged Dinah through them and brought her home.

God sees injustice. He sees inequality. He sees abuse. He sees all the hurts that women face because of a broken world and people who have chosen to do evil.

Whether He does it here on earth now or whether He does it when He makes the world new, He will avenge every wrong.

Now more than ever, churches, organizations, and Christians are being exposed for how they have played Jacob. Hundreds of women can report how their church and fellow Christians mishandled their concerns. (This absolutely goes for men too. Although it more commonly occurs to women, that doesn’t make the threat nonexistent for men.) There are still people in your church, in my church who think this is a story about how you shouldn’t get angry.

But this story shows that God is angry.

When I read this story, I don’t hear God scolding me to listen to my elders more. I don’t see a morality tale about anger and revenge.

Vengeance isn’t ours, but sometimes anger is. God does not call us to slaughter entire cities, but we are called to slaughter lies and systems that enable injustice. But we do it with God’s guidance and only with God’s guidance—something that Simeon and Levi perhaps neglected.

When I read this story, I see a God Who knows and sees and hurts with us. And I see a God Who will make all these horrible things right.

Maybe you have been abused. If so, I hope you can feel the comfort of that truth through this story today.

Maybe you’ve never experienced this type of hurt.  If so, if you’re in a place where you can, I hope you can feel the challenge of this story. We may not be Simeon or Levi, but we can call for accountability. We can support victims and survivors. And we can slaughter the lies in our own hearts that lead us to ignore and keep silent.

It’s not everyone’s place to be on the front lines fighting these battles. But it is everyone’s place to imitate the God Who created all of us—to see and to hurt and to seek justice.

You may notice a lot of my articles lately have been like this one (dealing with women’s issues) or analyzing fictional heroines. My mission as a writer is to tell stories for the weird little girls and the women they’re becoming. And part of that journey has been realizing that I have a deep passion for topics just like these.

​So you can expect to see more of these takes from me over the months to come. Those topics might be where I stay forever, or they might be just where I stay for right now. But I’d love for you to hang out with me in them. If you have any ideas on topics I could cover in the future, please drop a comment below! 

Hi, I’m Rachel! I write young adult fantasy. I write the novels I needed growing up—the novels I still need. Novels for the weird little girls and the women they’re becoming.

Maybe you need those stories, too? You can get one for free by signing up for my email newsletter via the “HOME” page of my website. It might involve a girl and the magical violin she didn’t want and maybe a metaphor about grief. Plus, you’ll also get email-exclusive updates on my dieselpunk Anastasia reimaging. Sound good? I hope I’ll see you there!