When Scripture Feels Heavy — Reflections on 2 Samuel 13
It’s been a couple of weeks since I last recorded one of these. Life got messy in the best ways and the stressful ways — my brother moved here, we moved into a new place, and I started teaching dance again. With all of that shifting, I decided it’s time to loosen the structure a bit.
So instead of Sex & Scripture Saturday, I’m simply calling this my Sex Scripture Series. I’ll still post on Saturdays when I can, but I’m not chaining myself to a livestream at 10 a.m. anymore. Not until lives come back. For now, pre-recording is the only way this series survives — and I want it to survive.
After prayer, deep breaths, and a cat climbing across the camera (as always), I opened to this week’s passage:
2 Samuel 13:1–29
The story of Amnon and Tamar.
And the moment I saw the title, my chest tightened. I’ve read it before. It doesn’t get easier.
Sitting With the Text — And the Weight It Carries
This chapter is dark.
The Old Testament is dark.
And my body felt it — the pressure in my chest, the heaviness on my forehead.
Assault. Violence. Power. Entitlement.
Again and again and again.
It’s exhausting to see how often women’s safety and well-being are treated as an afterthought, and to know that some of those patterns still ripple into the present.
What Hit Me First: The Enabler
Before the assault even happens, there’s Jonadab — Amnon’s cousin, friend, and co-conspirator. A man who doesn’t just ignore red flags but feeds them, strategizes around them, and empowers them.
Reading it made me think about how often assault isn’t just about the perpetrator. It’s about the circle around him — the people who laugh at the jokes, minimize the behavior, encourage the drinking, dismiss the boundary-pushing, or stay silent because “that’s just how he is.”
Assault isn’t a “women’s issue.”
It’s a men’s accountability issue — and this story makes that painfully clear.
The Statistics Don’t Lie
I paused to remind myself — and anyone watching — that:
Most sexual assaults are committed by men.
Most victims know their perpetrator.
A small group of serial offenders commit a large percentage of assaults.
Meaning:
It’s not “random.”
It’s not “monsters in the dark.”
It’s people we know.
Friends. Family. Brothers. Cousins.
Which is why Jonadab stuck with me.
Because so often, the violence could have been interrupted.
A conversation. A boundary. A refusal to enable.
What Tamar Endured — and the Aftermath
This story is brutal:
Tamar begs Amnon not to violate her.
He ignores her.
He rapes her.
He hates her afterward.
He throws her out.
Everything about her grief feels bodily — ashes, torn robes, crying aloud.
And everything about the response around her feels too familiar: silence, avoidance, dismissal, sending her away to grieve quietly.
The Part That Still Bothers Me: David’s Silence
Tamar is David’s daughter.
Yet Scripture gives us no moment where David confronts Amnon.
No protection, no discipline, no justice from her father.
Absalom eventually kills Amnon — which isn’t justice, but a response born from rage and abandonment. David mourns the death of his sons, but there’s barely a whisper of mourning for Tamar.
That silence bothered me the first time I read this story.
It bothers me even more now.
What I Felt in My Body
A knot in my chest.
A heaviness in the front of my head.
A quiet, tired grief.
Grief for Tamar.
For women across centuries.
For the way patriarchal structures in Scripture still shape culture today.
For the long road between then and now — and how far we still have to go.
What This Story Raises for Me
Assault is not an individual problem. It’s a community problem.
Men must hold each other accountable.
Silence from leaders — fathers, pastors, institutions — is part of the harm.
Most victims are harmed by someone they know.
Disbelief often comes from not wanting to imagine what is, in fact, entirely possible.
And under all of it:
a deep, somatic awareness of brokenness.
Closing Thoughts
This chapter was heavy.
And important.
And I’m glad I didn’t skip it, even though every part of me wanted a lighter story today.
I don’t have answers — this whole series is about asking better questions.
Questions that lead to curiosity, not fear.
Questions that open us up instead of shutting us down.
Next week’s passage will come out on Saturday, but for now, I’m holding the weight of Tamar’s story — and the stories still happening in our world today.
I hope something in this reflection opens a question inside you too.
If you want to watch the live conversation, you can find it here:
👉https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nBQ2jUiRwk4