Words of Life: A Homily for DFV Awareness

In the name of God: Creator, Incarnation & Life-Giving Spirit. Amen.

We gather for Evensong at the threshold of the day. Work is laid down. The noise settles. The Church has always prayed in this space because the thresholds make room for another voice to speak: the voice of scripture, the voice of a neighbour, the voice of conscience, the voice of God.

The church, however, is not the only holy space in our lives. Our homes, the intimate relationships into which we pour our hearts, our energies, our bodies, our souls – too often domestic and family abuse crosses the thresholds of these most sacred spaces. And then almost imperceptibly, the voice of affection becomes one of control, attentiveness becomes surveillance, disagreements become intimidation.

Scripture warns about what flourishes in secrecy. Violence concealed behind closed doors endures as a painful reality in our communities. Yet perhaps the most subtle and insidious form of harm is the corruption of language itself. The words we are immersed in shape our cognitions, imagination and expectations. The words spoken to us become voices in our heads, telling us who we are and what kind of world we inhabit. These voices can nurture trust and belonging—but they can just as easily diminish and destroy.

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel famously said, our words create worlds. And distorted words create distorted realities — worlds where abuse can be minimised, explained way, or hidden completely. The Book of Proverbs recognised this long ago: "Death and life are in the power of the tongue." And that is, in part, why domestic and family violence cuts so deeply against the grain of God's creation.

At the beginning of our faith story is a world shaped by words. The Spirit of God hovers over the waters and into the formlessness God speaks: "Let there be..." Let there be light. Let there be sky and sea. Let there be creatures that swarm and soar. Let there be humankind. Let there be faithful companionship. Let there be the opportunity for us to rest, to be restored, to be renewed.

What God's words in Genesis call forth is not merely a functioning universe but a flourishing one, woven together with mutuality, blessing, and belonging. The shape of God's words is life. And words can help us participate in that life. Phrases like “You are loved” “You belong” “You are precious” become shelter. They create space for a person to grow and become the fully expressed creations we are intended to be.

This is, I think, one of God’s first gifts to us - not power over creation, but the power of language to affirm, to bless, to call forth life in our fellow creatures. And one of the first strategies of abuse is to corrupt it — to twist words that should nurture into tools of fear, control, and diminishment.

We often imagine that violence begins with a raised fist. But long before a hand is raised, there is first contempt. Manipulation. Undermining. Gaslighting. Lives diminished one word at a time until a person begins to doubt their own worth, their own memory, their own reality. Which is why the language we use to respond to Domestic and Family Violence must be chosen carefully.

When we hear the phrase domestic violence, we think first of physical harm. Yet devastating abuse takes place in much broader forms - coercive control, emotional manipulation, financial control, spiritual abuse, elder abuse, technological surveillance and other expressions that each work for the gradual erosion of another person's freedom and sense of self.

The way we name abuse shapes our ability to recognise it. If our understanding is limited to physical violence, we may overlook the devastating impacts of any number of forms of degradation on a life. We may also fail to see the profound impacts on children, family and friends. Naming abuse truthfully is not merely an exercise in accuracy but often the first step towards safety, support, and healing.

But truth-telling alone is not the whole Gospel. If Genesis reveals the shape of God's words, Ephesians asks whether our communities bear the same shape.

"Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear."

If God's words create, and abusive words diminish, then our Christian words are called to restore. Paul imagines a community shaped by words such as humility, gentleness, patience, kindness - words that build up rather than tear down. The Church then must therefore take great care with its own speech. We have not always done so.

Sometimes Scripture has been wielded as a weapon rather than a source of freedom. Sometimes forgiveness has been demanded without repentance. Sometimes suffering has been branded as holiness.

The Gospel calls us to do better. The words we pray become the world we imagine and participate in and so the church must continually examine its modes of formation and communication. Any language that excludes, diminishes, or renders women, children and vulnerable people less visible or less affirmed cannot finally serve the Gospel of the God who calls creation good.

It takes only a couple of seconds for a life to change irreversibly - a threat spoken, a hand raised, a life taken. Tonight we remember those who have been forced across such thresholds. Every human being bears the image of God and whenever a person is betrayed - in words, in body, in spirit, something of God's intention for creation is denied.

So tonight we light candles in solidarity with victim-survivors.
We light them in grief for those whose lives have been lost.
We light them for those who continue to live with wounds seen and unseen,
and those whose circumstances cry out for transformation.

We light them in hope that fear will not have the final word.
And we light them as a commitment that we will find more words for hope:
that when others stand at painful thresholds, we will listen attentively, speak carefully,
and make room for more life-giving voices to shape our world.

For from the beginning the shape of God's word has always been life.
And wherever dignity is defended, and words of life are spoken,
God's work of creation continues.

Amen.