How could the Bible command a rape victim to marry her rapist?
Ancient law codes treated rape victims as damaged property. Babylonian law blamed them. Egyptian law abandoned them. Then Deuteronomy 22 appeared - and critics point to it as proof of biblical barbarity: a law commanding victims of rape to marry their attackers. What?! Atheists quote it to demonstrate Scripture's moral failure. And many times, Christians avoid it out of shame or confusion. But here's what's fascinating: what looks like divine cruelty was actually the ancient world's first legal protection for vulnerable women - and it changes everything about how we understand this challenging text.
Welcome back to Word for Word. I'm Austin Duncan, and today we're tackling one of the most disturbing passages in the entire Bible. And I'm not going to sugarcoat it - this is hard. This is the kind of passage that keeps seekers from faith and causes believers to stumble. It's the verse that atheists screenshot and post on social media. It's the passage that makes even seasoned Christians squirm.
Deuteronomy 22:28-29. A law that seemingly forces a rape victim to marry her rapist.
Now, before we dive in, I want to be clear about something: this topic requires us to handle it with extreme care and sensitivity. If you're a survivor of sexual assault, I want you to know that God sees you, He grieves with you, and He is for you - always. What we're about to explore isn't about minimizing trauma or defending the indefensible. It's about understanding what this ancient text actually meant in its context, and discovering that the God of the Bible has always been on the side of the vulnerable - even when His methods don't immediately make sense to us.
So let's do what we always do on Word for Word: let's go deep. Let's wrestle with the hard stuff. Let's look at what the ancient world was really like, what this law actually said, and what it reveals about God's heart for justice.
Because here's what I've discovered: when you really understand this passage - when you see it through ancient eyes - it transforms from an embarrassment into evidence of something revolutionary. But we've got to be willing to do the work to get there.
The Ancient World's Treatment of Rape Victims
Let's start by painting a picture of what the ancient Near East was like for women. And I'll warn you - it's dark. Really dark.
Imagine you're a young woman in ancient Mesopotamia - maybe Babylon, around 1750 BC. The law codes of your society, including the famous Code of Hammurabi, don't see you as a person with rights. You're essentially property. First, you belong to your father. Then, when you marry, you belong to your husband.
Now, if you're sexually assaulted - here's where it gets worse - the law doesn't care about you. It cares about whose property was damaged. As researchers have documented, "rape was primarily viewed as an offense against the woman's father or husband, not a crime against her - injuries to a woman mainly counted as injuries to the man who 'owned' her."
Think about that for a second. Your violation wasn't a crime against you. It was a crime against your father's economic interests.
If you were engaged or married when assaulted, the law might punish your attacker - but only because he violated another man's property. If you weren't engaged? Well, according to Middle Assyrian law, your father could choose to force the marriage if he wanted the bride-price payment, or he could refuse and just take the money. Either way, you had no voice in the matter.
And here's something even more chilling: in many cases, if you were attacked in a city and people didn't hear you scream, the law assumed you consented. That's right - you could be punished as an adulteress for being raped, simply because no one heard you cry out.
Now let's shift to ancient Egypt. Historians tell us that Egyptian law didn't even recognize rape as a distinct crime unless the woman was married. As one scholar summarizes: "intercourse with a married woman was considered a crime… The rights of the woman herself were irrelevant [and] whether intercourse was voluntary or forcible" didn't really matter to the law.
If you were an unmarried virgin who was raped in ancient Egypt, the state basically shrugged. You were on your own. No legal protection. No compensation. No future. You'd be considered "defiled," unmarriageable, and would likely end up destitute or worse.
Here's the devastating reality: in the ancient world, if you were raped, you were ruined. Not just physically or emotionally - which is trauma enough - but socially and economically. You had no prospects for marriage, which in that culture meant no security, no family, no future. Many women in this situation ended up either completely dependent on reluctant family members, driven into prostitution to survive, or in some honor-shame cultures, even killed by their own families to remove the "stain" on the family name.
I need you to sit with that for a moment. This was normal. This was the world into which God's law was given. A world where women were property, where rape victims were blamed, where the violated were discarded like broken pottery.
This is the backdrop we need to understand before we can even begin to make sense of Deuteronomy 22:28-29.
What Does the Text Actually Say?
Okay, so now let's look at what the Bible actually says. Here's Deuteronomy 22:28-29 in the English Standard Version:
"If a man meets a virgin who is not betrothed, and seizes her and lies with her, and they are found, then the man who lay with her shall give to the father of the young woman fifty shekels of silver, and she shall be his wife, because he has violated her. He may not divorce her all his days."
On the surface, I get it - this sounds horrifying. It sounds like the Bible is saying, "Hey, if you rape a woman, just marry her and everything's cool." But here's where we need to slow down and look carefully at what's actually being said. Because the details matter. The context matters. And as we'll see, what looks like cruelty was actually revolutionary compassion.
First, let's be crystal clear: this is addressing rape, not consensual sex.
The Hebrew word translated "seizes" is taphas, which means to take hold of forcefully, to grasp, to overpower. This isn't describing a mutual relationship or even a seduction. This is describing sexual violence. The passage immediately before this one (Deuteronomy 22:25-27) dealt with the rape of an engaged woman using even stronger language - "the man forced her" - and in that case, the law commanded the rapist be executed and explicitly stated the woman was innocent.
So verses 28-29 are addressing a different scenario: the rape of an unbetrothed virgin. And here's something crucial to notice: the law doesn't command the victim to do anything. It commands the perpetrator.
The text says "he shall marry her." "He cannot divorce her." The entire focus is on binding the rapist with obligations, not on forcing the victim into anything. In that patriarchal society, marriage arrangements were handled between the man and the woman's father, so the law speaks to them. But there's no scenario described where a woman who refuses is somehow punished.
Second, this law ensures the victim will be provided for and protected.
Remember the context we just discussed? In ancient Israel, a woman's economic security depended on family structures - first her father's household, then her husband's. By raping her, this man had likely destroyed her prospects for a normal marriage. Other men wouldn't want to marry her because she was no longer a virgin. Without this law, she'd be left vulnerable, potentially facing poverty and social ostracism for the rest of her life.
So what does God's law do? It says: "Not on my watch."
The man must pay fifty shekels of silver - that's a massive sum, significantly higher than a typical bride-price. It's both punishment and provision. But more than that, he must take her as his wife and can NEVER divorce her. Think about what this meant in that culture: men held all the power in divorce. They could send a wife away basically whenever they wanted. But this law strips that right away from the rapist. He can never shirk his responsibility. He can never abandon her.
As the Christian Research Institute explains: "having lost her virginity, she would have been deemed undesirable for marriage" in that culture, so without this law "a woman without a father or husband to provide for her faced a life of abject poverty, destitution, and social ostracism." This law meant that "the rapist was compelled to provide for the rape victim for as long as he lived."
Here's the beautiful irony: the law that sounds most punishing to the victim was actually most punishing to the perpetrator.
He wanted to use and discard a woman? Nope. Now she's his wife for life, and he can never get out of it. He has to see the consequences of his actions every single day. He has to provide for her every single day. He can't just pay a fine and walk away. He faces lifelong consequences - which also serves as a powerful deterrent to any other man thinking about committing such a crime.
Third - and this is crucial - there was precedent for the woman's family to refuse the marriage.
Now, Deuteronomy 22:28-29 doesn't explicitly spell out the father's veto power, but we have to read it in light of another law in Exodus 22:16-17, which deals with a similar situation (though that one involves seduction rather than force). That law says: "If her father utterly refuses to give her to him, he shall pay money equal to the bride-price for virgins."
In other words, the father - acting as the woman's protector in that culture - could say, "No way. My daughter is not marrying this man." And the man still had to pay the full bride-price as compensation. The woman would have the monetary provision, even without the marriage.
Ancient Jewish interpreters and later rabbinic tradition understood that this principle applied to the Deuteronomy law as well. The rabbis concluded that the rape obligated the man to marry - it gave him no choice - but it did not strip the woman or her family of their protective choice.
As one scholar notes, the law "was not designed to force the rape victim into an unbearable marriage, but to secure her future and that of her children." The father could refuse the marriage while still taking the monetary damages to support his daughter.
So we're not talking about a law that chains a victim to her rapist against her will. We're talking about a law that gives her options in a world where she would otherwise have none.
God's Protection Within a Broken System
Now, I can already hear some of you saying: "Okay, fine, but this still isn't ideal. Even if the father can refuse, why create a situation where marrying the rapist is even an option? Why not just execute every rapist? Why not build a society where women have complete independence and don't need marriage for security?"
And you know what? Those are great questions. From our modern vantage point, those solutions make sense. But here's what we need to understand: God was working within a deeply broken, patriarchal culture, gradually moving it toward justice.
Jesus himself talked about this principle. When the Pharisees asked Him about divorce, He said that Moses allowed certain things "because of your hardness of heart - but from the beginning it was not so" (Matthew 19:8). Some laws in the Old Testament weren't God's ideal; they were divine concessions designed to limit greater evils in a hard-hearted society.
Think about it this way: if God had dropped a 21st-century Western legal code on ancient Israel - complete with women's independence, police forces, criminal justice systems, and social services - it would have been like trying to topple a load-bearing wall in a building. The society simply wouldn't have been able to function. The cultural framework didn't exist to support those ideals yet.
So what did God do instead? He met people where they were and pushed them forward. He regulated the existing system in ways that protected the vulnerable and undermined injustice from within, planting seeds that would eventually bear fruit in the fuller revelation of Christ.
And here's what's remarkable: when you compare Deuteronomy 22:28-29 to the surrounding cultures, it was revolutionary.
Think about what this law was really doing:
It treated women as persons worthy of protection, not just property to be compensated.
Other cultures focused solely on compensating the father for economic loss. God's law focused on securing the woman's future. It didn't say "pay the dad and walk away." It said "you're responsible for this woman for life."
It put consequences on the perpetrator that other cultures didn't.
In Babylon, a rapist might pay a fine. In Egypt, he might face nothing at all if the woman was unmarried. But in Israel? Massive financial penalty plus lifelong obligation with no escape clause. As one commentator noted, this served "the purpose of deterring would-be rapists by levying lifelong consequences."
It made clear that the victim was innocent.
Deuteronomy 22:26 explicitly compares the rape victim to someone who is murdered by their neighbor - totally blameless. This flew in the face of cultures that often blamed the victim. The Bible says: she is innocent. Full stop.
It gave the victim and her family agency in a world that typically gave them none.
Yes, it was still a patriarchal system. Yes, the father made decisions on behalf of his daughter. But even within that framework, this law created space for the family to prioritize the woman's wellbeing over the rapist's preferences. That was unheard of.
Let me put it this way: This law was the best protection available within the social structures of that time. It couldn't magically create modern legal systems or feminist social structures overnight. But it could - and did - ensure that a violated woman wouldn't be doubly victimized by being abandoned with no future.
As Hank Hanegraaff wisely notes: "neither then nor now is there a perfect resolution for a woman who has been violated through the horror of rape." Even our modern solutions - criminal prosecution, therapy, support services - can't fully heal the wound or undo the trauma. In a fallen world, we do the best we can to pursue justice and provide care. And that's exactly what this ancient law was doing in its context.
Reading the Bible with Eyes Wide Open
So what do we do with all of this? How should we as modern readers approach a passage like Deuteronomy 22:28-29?
First: We need to read difficult Scriptures in their full context - both historical and redemptive.
This entire discussion shows why context matters so much. If you rip this verse out of its ancient Near Eastern setting and plop it into the 21st century, of course it looks barbaric. But when you understand what the world was like - how other cultures treated rape victims, how women had no independent status, how marriage was the only path to security - suddenly this law looks completely different.
It's not a law designed to reward rapists or punish victims. It's a law designed to protect the vulnerable within the constraints of an imperfect system.
And that's just the historical context. We also need to read it within the larger flow of biblical revelation - what theologians call "progressive revelation." God didn't reveal everything at once. He met humanity where they were and gradually unveiled His heart and character over centuries, culminating in Jesus Christ.
Some Old Testament laws were never meant to be permanent. They were stepping stones, moving Israel from where they were (embedded in ancient Near Eastern culture) toward where God wanted them to be (a kingdom of priests reflecting His character). Jesus himself said that some Mosaic regulations were concessions to human hardness of heart, not expressions of God's ultimate ideal.
Here's the key question when you encounter a difficult passage: What problem was this addressing in its original setting? How did it function among the people it was given to? And how does it fit within the larger story of Scripture?
When we ask those questions about Deuteronomy 22:28-29, we discover that it was addressing the terrible vulnerability of rape victims in ancient society. It functioned as a form of protection and provision when no other options existed. And it fits within Scripture's consistent pattern of elevating the dignity of the marginalized.
Second: We need to recognize God's heart for the vulnerable shining through, even in imperfect systems.
Here's what I find beautiful about this law: in a world that ignored rape victims, God saw them. In a culture that blamed them, God defended them. In a society that would cast them aside, God made provision for them.
This reflects a pattern we see throughout Scripture. God cares about "the least of these" - the widow, the orphan, the foreigner, the oppressed (Deuteronomy 10:18). He's the God who "raises the poor from the dust and lifts the needy from the ash heap" (Psalm 113:7). He's the God who says "I will not leave you as orphans" (John 14:18).
Even working within the flawed structures of ancient Israel, God was saying: "This woman matters. Her life matters. Her future matters. And you'd better take care of her."
This should shape how we, as God's people today, respond to victims of sexual violence. We can't just look at this ancient law and say, "Well, that's nice for back then." We need to ask: What is the Spirit of this law? What does it reveal about God's priorities? And how do we live out those priorities in our context?
God's law in Deuteronomy tells us:
Rape is a serious crime deserving serious consequences (in the betrothed woman's case, death; in the unbetrothed woman's case, lifelong binding obligation)
Victims deserve protection and provision, never blame or abandonment
The perpetrator bears full responsibility and faces real penalties
Society has an obligation to ensure justice and care for those who've been violated
So in our context, what does that look like? It means:
We believe victims. We don't ask "what were you wearing?" or "why didn't you scream?" We trust survivors and support them.
We advocate for justice. We push for strong laws, vigorous prosecution, and real consequences for perpetrators.
We provide care. Churches should be at the forefront of supporting survivors - through counseling resources, financial assistance, community, and long-term care. No one should face this trauma alone.
We create cultures of prevention. We teach our sons about consent and respect. We speak openly about these issues rather than pretending they don't happen in our communities.
We never, ever compound the trauma by forcing forgiveness, minimizing harm, or protecting abusers.
If we understand the spirit of Deuteronomy 22:28-29, we'll be people who protect the vulnerable at all costs - just like God was doing through this ancient law.
Third: We need to appreciate the trajectory of Scripture's ethics.
Here's something fascinating: the Bible contains within itself the seeds of its own transcendence. What I mean is, the principles embedded in these ancient laws pointed toward something greater - something that would be more fully revealed in Christ and His kingdom.
Think about the trajectory:
Genesis 1:27 affirms both male and female are made in God's image - radically equal in dignity
Old Testament law protects women in ways unprecedented in the ancient world (this law, plus protections for wives in Exodus 21:10-11, plus provisions for widows, etc.)
Jesus elevates the status of women even further - teaching them as disciples, appearing first to women after His resurrection, defending them from religious hypocrisy
The early church supports widows and vulnerable women, and Paul writes that in Christ "there is neither male nor female" (Galatians 3:28)
Over centuries, Christian ethics transform cultures, leading to greater protections for women and recognition of their full humanity
Each step built on the previous one, moving toward fuller expressions of justice and dignity.
So when skeptics say, "Look how barbaric the Bible is - it makes rape victims marry their rapists!" we can respond: "Actually, let's look at what the Bible did. It took a world where rape victims had zero protection and created laws to ensure they'd be provided for. It planted seeds of justice that grew into the very moral intuitions you're using to critique it. The reason you know forcing a woman to marry her rapist would be wrong is because you've been shaped by centuries of biblical values working their way through culture."
The Bible gives us not just static rules, but a trajectory of justice. And we're called to continue that trajectory today - to keep moving in the direction Scripture points us, toward a world where the vulnerable are protected, where justice is pursued, where every person is honored as made in God's image.
We don't enforce Deuteronomy 22:28-29 today because we have better ways to fulfill its purpose - prosecution of criminals, comprehensive support for survivors, economic independence for women, etc. But we do honor its spirit by being relentless advocates for justice and care.
The Consistent Character of God
When I first encountered this passage, it troubled me deeply. I couldn't reconcile it with the God I knew - the God of love, the God of justice, the God who Jesus revealed. I wondered: "Is this really the same God?" But after studying it carefully, after understanding the context, after seeing God's heart in it - I don't have that question anymore. In fact, this passage has become for me a testimony to God's consistent character. Here's what I see:
I see a God who notices the vulnerable. In a world that would ignore this woman's plight, God said, "I see her. Her suffering matters to Me."
I see a God who pursues justice. He didn't let the perpetrator off easy. He imposed real, lasting consequences that would deter future crimes.
I see a God who provides. He ensured this woman would have security when the prevailing culture would have left her with nothing.
I see a God who's willing to work within messy, broken systems to make them better. He didn't wait for a perfect society. He met people where they were and pushed them forward.
I see a God who's been moving history toward greater justice and mercy. From this ancient law to the full revelation in Christ, we see a consistent trajectory of elevating human dignity and defending the oppressed.
And you know what? That's the same God we serve today. The God who sees victims of human trafficking and says, "Not on My watch." The God who notices the refugee, the abused child, the exploited worker. The God who demands justice and mercy in equal measure. The God who's ultimately going to make all things right. As Isaiah prophesied, the day is coming when God "will wipe away the tears from all faces" (Isaiah 25:8). A day when every wrong will be made right, every injustice overturned, every victim fully restored. Until that day, we live out the heart of laws like Deuteronomy 22:28-29 - not by enforcing ancient regulations, but by embodying God's character as defenders of the vulnerable and pursuers of justice.
Conclusion
So here's where we land.
Deuteronomy 22:28-29 is not an embarrassment. When understood properly, it's actually a testimony to God's compassionate justice. In a world where rape victims were blamed, shamed, and abandoned, God said: "She will be provided for. She will be protected. The man who violated her will bear permanent consequences." Was it a perfect solution? It was a merciful, just response within the constraints of that time and culture. It was God meeting people where they were and moving them toward His kingdom ideals.
And that gives me hope.
It tells me that the God of the Bible is not distant or uncaring. He's engaged with the messiest parts of human existence, working within flawed systems to bring about greater good. He sees the suffering of the vulnerable and He acts on their behalf - sometimes in ways that don't make sense to us at first, but always with a heart of compassion.
It also challenges me - and I hope it challenges you too.
If God cared this much about protecting a rape victim in ancient Israel, how much more should we, living under the fuller light of the gospel, be advocates for survivors today? We can't just study this passage academically and then move on. We have to ask: What would it look like for us to embody this same protective, justice-seeking heart in our communities?
Maybe it means being the kind of church where survivors feel safe to share their stories without fear of blame or dismissal.
Maybe it means supporting organizations that fight human trafficking or provide care for assault survivors.
Maybe it means examining our own attitudes and language - do we unconsciously blame victims or minimize trauma?
Maybe it means raising sons who understand consent and daughters who know they're never to blame for someone else's violence.
Maybe it means advocating for stronger legal protections and better resources in our criminal justice system.
Whatever it looks like for you, the principle is clear: God stands with the violated and demands that we do too. So yes, Deuteronomy 22:28-29 is a difficult passage. It makes us uncomfortable. It requires careful study to understand. But when we do the work - when we wrestle with the context, when we see God's heart in it - it becomes something powerful. It becomes a window into the character of a God who has always been on the side of the vulnerable, even when His methods were constrained by human hardness of heart. And it points us forward to Jesus - the ultimate expression of God's justice and mercy. Jesus, who defended the vulnerable, who challenged the powerful, who gave His own life for the broken. Jesus, who offers healing to every wounded soul. Jesus, who promises that one day, He'll wipe away every tear and make all things new. Until that day, let's be people who live out the spirit of God's law. Let's defend the vulnerable. Let's pursue justice. Let's support survivors. Let's be known as people who, like our God, see the suffering and say: "Not on my watch."
Thanks for sticking with me through this difficult topic. I know it wasn't easy. But this is what Word for Word is about - not avoiding the hard questions, but diving into them with open eyes and humble hearts, trusting that God's Word can withstand our scrutiny and ultimately draw us deeper into His character. If this episode raised questions for you, or if you're wrestling with how to apply these principles in your life, I'd love to hear from you in the comments. And if you found this helpful, please share it with someone who's struggling with difficult passages in Scripture. Next week, we'll be looking at another tough Old Testament law - one about disobedient children. Until then, keep seeking truth. Keep asking questions. Keep trusting that the God revealed in Scripture is worthy of our faith.
This is Word for Word. I'm Austin Duncan. Thanks for joining me.
