Under the Banner of Heaven Champions Women’s Courage
Billed as the chronicle of a devout detective’s crisis of faith, Hulu’s original series Under the Banner of Heaven may better be described as an impactful picture of a woman-turned-martyr risking her life to stand up to a major institution and save those she cared about most. The series follows Detectives Jeb Pyre (Andrew Garfield) and Bill Taba (Gil Birmingham) as they scramble to solve the double homicide of young wife and mother, Brenda Wright-Lafferty (Daisy Edgar-Jones), and her fifteen-month-old daughter, Erica. The detectives quickly deduce the murderers to be two of Brenda’s brothers-in-law, Ron and Dan Lafferty, who have begun a sure and steady dive into extremist Mormonism.
While the disturbing murder lies at the center of this true crime account, showrunner Dustin Lance Black focuses, too, on the disturbing reality of abuse within religious communities when their followers rely on outdated, dangerous ideas supported by lies and oppressive power. Audiences follow Jeb in the present and Brenda retrospectively, their parallel journeys raising questions about what courage really is when confronting powerful institutions. “I believe that in order to stand proud before our Savior on the last day, mothers must defend our families from evil, to help men see past themselves, and to stand up to those even in our church who would lead us astray,” says Brenda Wright-Lafferty in the show.
Recognizing Susceptibility
Jeb is a devout member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (LDS), who leads his wife and two daughters in the same lifestyle. As he investigates the case, Jeb struggles to comprehend how his religion could produce and harbor men who would call it a mission from God to kill a mother and child. “Evil,” he mutters as he observes the scene of the gruesome and senseless crime that occurred at the hands of those who would claim to be his brothers in faith. He is forced to turn inward—toward himself, his wife, and his daughters—to confront the eerie possibility that extremism and the oppression of women could just as easily enter his heart and home.
His worries hold weight when he reads one of his young daughter’s journals and finds misogynistic ideals about being a servant for men have already entered her mind. Disturbed, he approaches his devout wife about it. His wife, undeterred, retorts, “I married a man of faith, and that’s who I plan to raise them with, whether that’s you or somebody else.” Jeb subsequently postpones his daughters’ baptism, causing a further rift between him and his wife. He also finds himself unable to lead his family in prayer. Jeb’s internal struggle drives the story forward, drawing parallels with Brenda’s struggles to maintain her beliefs.
History Tends to Repeat Itself
Brenda was raised in the LDS church and married into a religious organization that places value on women who are diligent homemakers, loyal wives, and enthusiastic mothers. But when she recognized the dangerous path of fundamentalism in her extended family, she did not allow traditional roles to diminish her boldness in protecting her husband from being influenced by his older brothers. Rather, she confronted her unstable brothers-in-law, particularly Ron and Dan, over self-serving rules that included introducing polygamy into their previously monogamous marriages, the abuse of women and children when they dared to question men’s leadership, and their rejection of basic laws within the U.S. government, believing themselves to be above the law of the land and instead “under the banner of heaven.”
She opposed the LDS church’s leadership after she sought assistance and was merely prayed for, told to stay with her gradually drifting husband, and sent back into the dangerous Lafferty family. She even convinced Ron’s wife, Dianna, to join her attempt to bring her other sisters-in-law from darkness to freedom. But not all of the women she was surrounded by were supportive of her endeavors. Another sister-in-law, Sarah, commented, “Heavenly Father’s laws are black or white. Brenda—well, she’s an ugly shade of gray.”
Contemporary experiences similar to what Brenda endured in the 1980s (and many women certainly endured prior) continue to make headlines forty years later. It is no secret that the Catholic Church has had its fair share of controversy and deplorable lack of action—or at the very least, delayed action—when it comes to addressing and showing empathy for sexual abuse allegations against men who hold significant positions in the Church when women and children are victims.
Similarly, in May 2022, the Southern Baptist Convention (SBC) released an almost 300-page report on several abuse cases in Southern Baptist churches across the country that occurred at the hands of men in high positions. The accounts of the victims’ abuse are disturbing, but even more shocking is the claim that SBC leaders blatantly ignored victims’ cries for help as they attempted to reach out to leaders to report abusers and child molesters for almost twenty years. The report states that abuse survivors were “only to be met, time and time again, with resistance, stonewalling, and even outright hostility,” by those in power who sought to suppress controversy and protect an institution that has been set up as the authority for hundreds of churches in the United States.
Persevering in Courage
Even in the face of death, Brenda refused to be victimized. When Ron and Dan cornered her in her home after attacking her, she first pleaded with them, saying, “Heavenly Father knows. He knows this isn’t who you are. It isn’t. It isn’t His voice you hear.” But when she saw her pleas and her baby daughter’s cries fell on deaf ears, her bloodied face hardened, her pleas stopped, and she told the brothers, “The selfish, the cowardly, the murderers and the liars—their portion will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which will be your second deaths. God will make me whole again and send you both into everlasting darkness.”
Brenda’s courageous defiance resulted in her death. However, her death was also a catalyst for her sister-in-law Dianna to stand up for herself and her family. While some of the details of Dianna’s story are fictionalized, Black utilizes her character to bolster the impression of the power of a woman’s self-sacrifice. Dianna returns to Utah from where she had been hiding in Florida to convince another sister-in-law, Matilda, to join her in running away from the Lafferty brothers.
As the two women prepare to leave, they run into Sam Lafferty, brother-in-law to both Dianna and Matilda, at a gas station. Sam attempts to drag a cowering Matilda to his truck. When she realizes the other patrons plan to do nothing helpful, Dianna shouts, “Do you step on women’s necks because it makes you feel taller? Because your mother told you you were a chosen one? Well, it’s a lie. You are not special. You are not chosen. You and your brothers simply failed. You are a small, weak child of a man.” She then turns to Matilda, whom Sam has pinned against the hood of the truck, where his wife, Sara, waits patiently, and continues, “You show him how weak he is, Matilda. Show him!” With very little effort, Matilda pushes Sam off of her and walks back to Dianna, illustrating how a seemingly powerful man is nothing in the face of a woman’s clear voice. The two women get back in their car, leaving Sam to quietly drive off with his wife. Brenda is not physically present in this scene, but she is certainly there in spirit.
In the same way, victims of abuse at the hands of authority figures in the SBC and other religious communities have shown us how weak and cracked an institution can become in the face of strong women who refuse for decades to remain in their “place.” In sexual abuse survivor-turned-advocate Tiffany Thigpen’s statement to the SBC in light of the investigative report, she writes, “Men claiming to be called by God yet show no courage to stand against abusers in their ranks aren’t leading as men of God at all . . . You have a choice. Will you rise up? Will you listen or look away? That’s what we’ve been asking these nearly 20 years. Now that it’s exposed, messengers, pastors, leaders, trustees, believers, what will your response be? No second chances to get this right—this is the time.”
Real Healing Is Possible
While the series does not make it clear how Jeb handles his belief system after the case is closed, his reconciliation with his wife and daughters ultimately takes center stage. The viewer has the sense that Jeb now embraces his faith with greater integrity, has been inspired by the courage of good people like Brenda, and rests in the peace that comes with being content with not always having certainty in the face of life’s biggest questions.
Jeb’s family is in a better place by the series’ end, and in a certain way, so is Brenda’s. Their lives will never be the same without her, but because of Brenda’s courage and sacrifice, her sisters-in-law and husband are able to come out from under the oppressive thumb of the Lafferty family. In the same way, survivors who are bold enough to stand up to powerful abusers and institutions and expose evil today carve a path for others to speak on their experiences. Those who are made to be victims can reclaim their voices and freedom.
The real influence for change in our religious organizations is not always held by those in positions of power or those held in high regard; often, the power comes from survivors’ voices. When faced with the reality of women and/or children who tell their stories of survival, our first inclination as a society should be to hear them without judgment, keeping in mind that those who will want positive change in religious bodies will be survivors’ first advocates. Those in powerful positions who instead seek to silence victims for their own gain, to keep up appearances for their organizations, or to protect abusers and their agenda will surely be brought to light by the courageous women who refuse to have their own power intimidated by fragile authority figures.
