Some Bible passages are hard to talk about — especially when they’ve been used to shame or silence.
As a pastor, I’ve spent time with 1 Cor. 11, listening to women’s stories and wrestling with the text myself. What I’ve discovered is surprising: a message about dignity and agency that’s easy to miss without understanding the cultural context.
This column opens the door to rethinking familiar texts with compassion, courage and a fresh perspective.
You may know the passage. It's where Paul talks about women’s hair and head coverings. It’s often cited to reinforce hierarchy or oppose the ordination of female pastors.
Some religious groups even use it to require literal head coverings today. After all, 1 Cor. 11:6 says, "For if a woman does not cover her head, she might as well have her hair cut off ..."
So why don’t most churches teach this literally? And what was Paul really saying?
I’ve heard from many women who’ve been shamed for cutting their hair. I’ll share one of those stories at the end of this article. But let me say this up front: if you're reading the Bible as a way to belittle or control women, you may be missing the heart of the passage entirely.
The Cultural Context of Hair and Veiling
To genuinely grasp the apostle Paul’s commentary on women covering their hair, we must immerse ourselves in the cultural backdrop of his era. In the first-century Greco-Roman world, a woman’s hair was not merely an aesthetic feature; it was a potent symbol laden with connotations of sexuality, fertility and social availability. This understanding fundamentally alters many traditional interpretations of 1 Cor. 11:2–16.
During this period, for a woman to be unable to cover her head was a significant source of public shame. More crucially, as scholar Cynthia Westfall has pointed out, “Keeping certain classes of women unveiled was considered to be in the interests of men as a group, and laws were made and enforced that prevented women who were deemed without honor from veiling, which included prostitutes, slaves, freed women and women in the lowest classes. This not only signaled that such women were sexually available, but also maintained the social order and a distinction between classes.”
Challenging Traditional Interpretations
The prevalent theological interpretation suggests that women who opted not to veil were exhibiting rebellion, prompting Paul to assert male authority and, by extension, female subordination. This perspective, however, overlooks critical contextual nuances and often leads to interpretations that diminish women's agency.
A more compelling and contextually grounded explanation suggests a different scenario. It's highly probable that some women within the Corinthian church desired to veil their heads but were being prevented from doing so by certain men in the community. In this light, Paul's intervention was not to impose a dress code but to empower these women. His declaration in 1 Cor. 11:10 that women "have authority over their own head" becomes a pivotal assertion of self-possession and dignity.
The Veil as a Symbol of Protection and Authority
The reason prostitutes and female slaves were forbidden from wearing veils directly correlates with the veil's symbolic meaning. The veil served as a powerful public statement: "I am sexually unavailable and protected from unwanted advances." It conveyed sexual autonomy and social respect. Conversely, for those denied the veil, it signaled a state of sexual subjugation and vulnerability to exploitation, effectively branding them as sexual property without protection.
Early Christianity notably attracted individuals from the lower social strata, and historical evidence indicates that women were particularly effective evangelists among these marginalized groups. It's therefore highly probable that the Corinthian congregation included former prostitutes and female slaves — individuals whose lives had been marked by systemic exploitation and a severe lack of personal dignity.
Paul's Radical Affirmation of Equality
In this context, Paul's message in 1 Cor. 11 is revolutionary. He is not creating divisions but leveling the playing field. He asserts that, within the Christian community, there are no longer two distinct classes of women. Every woman, regardless of her past or societal standing, is honorable in the sight of God and the community. Consequently, every woman possesses the inherent right to veil her hair, signifying her authority over her own body and dignity.
By advocating for low-status women to veil, Paul was effectively challenging existing legal and social norms, potentially even breaking the law.
He was directly confronting men who sought to dictate women's bodily autonomy within the church.
Paul leveraged his apostolic authority to empower women, counteracting societal messages of female subjugation and affirming that men held no such authority over women within this new spiritual framework. For a first-century woman in the East, the veil represented equality and protection from sexual vulnerability.
Hair as a Provocative Symbol
To underscore the cultural chasm between the first century and our own, consider how exposed hair was perceived.
In first-century Eastern culture, an image of an unveiled woman could be considered overtly provocative, even pornographic by today's standards. Even in contemporary contexts, such displays remain scandalous in certain cultures.
Political figures like Rafsanjani, a former Iran prime minister, have defended compulsory head coverings for women by stating, "It is the obligation of the female to cover her head because women’s hair causes vibrations that arouse, mislead and corrupt men."
Moreover, ancient thinkers such as Aristotle, Euripides and the disciples of Hippocrates regarded hair as sensual and arousing and functionally part of the genitalia.
Understanding this cultural context is key to interpreting 1 Cor. 11. The passage ultimately affirms dignity, equality and protection for women — especially those once denied it.
When I shared this view with my friend Melissa, she told me a story that shows how harmful misinterpretation can be:
“I had just cut my hair short — something I loved. I went to church alone while my husband was away.
After the service, a man handed me a folded note and walked off. Inside was a verse about head coverings and the ‘glory of long hair.’
I sat in my car, crying. I felt ashamed and sinful. I let my hair grow again — out of guilt. It took me a long time to recover.
I’m tired of being told my body is a problem. Tired of my femininity being seen as sinful.”
Melissa’s raw and honest testimony speaks volumes about the emotional and spiritual toll that certain interpretations of scripture can take. It highlights a pervasive weariness among many women in the church, a frustration with perceived limitations on their expression, their leadership and even their very physical presence.
Her experience, while deeply personal, is not isolated; it resonates with countless others who navigate the complex intersection of faith, gender and societal expectations. It's against this backdrop of a very real, contemporary struggle that we must re-examine the historical interpretations of scripture.
