Byzantine monks miss the point...

How a woman got kicked out of a monastery...for "fathering a child."

As a convert, I am grateful to my friends who showered me with worthy books over the years. However, I confess that the tome I have enjoyed the most is the Golden Legend by Jacobus de Voragine, a compilation of the medieval miracle stories of the saints.  (Many thanks to Sandra Miesel, co-author of The DaVinci Hoax, who gifted me a copy.)

Jacobus was a Dominican, and thus his collection was for the purpose of preaching. It's worth noting that Jacobus can only remember forty tales of saintly women, of which only five were married. Included are a fair number of “women disguised as monk” stories. The historical veracity of the following account is unlikely, but the underlying message that a good name can be restored with patient perseverence rings true even today.

According to the Golden Legend, St. Theodora was a fifth century Byzantine holy woman who was tricked by a witch into committing adultery with a lecherous admirer. Once she realized what she had done, she was inconsolable, and entered a monastery disguised as a monk, "Theodore."

Apparently no one suspected "Theodore" was a woman, because of "his" patient obedience and careful service. Even when she drove a yoke of camels past her husband down the street, he failed to recognize her. (Must have been some chop job on the hair, no?)

Back at the abbey, she was accosted by a village girl who insisted that "Theodore" should "lay with her." Of course holy Theodora refused. When the girl turned up nine months later with a baby and insisted that "Theodore" was the father, "he" was expelled from the monastery and awarded custody of the child. "He" cared for the child "among the herd," apparently foraging for food with the sheep outside the village.

The legend recalls many visitations by the devil to Theodora in her dreams.  She was well versed in the art of telling the devil to "git back," recounted in detail throughout the story.

(We moderns tend to scoff at the devil, but I think the medieval mindset has some merit. The persistence and multiplication of mortal sins, from the Holocaust to the current culture of guns and violence, gives one pause.) Through it all, it is clear that Theodora's firm "no" to temptation produced even greater virtues in her character.

After seven years, the abbot allows "Theodore" and her "son" to return to the abbey in light of exemplary sanctity and patience. Only two years later, Theodora realizes she is dying, and tells her "son" to aspire to holiness even after her death.

The night of her death, the abbot has a dream in which Theodora's secret is revealed. The abbot awakens and rushes to her cell with quite a few monks in tow.  (Yes, I'm sure they were merely curious!!) The recounted emotion was fear. I guess I'd tremble too if I mistreated someone like that.

Miraculously, the abbot finds Theodora's husband mourning in the streets, and takes him in to occupy her cell. (The novitiate phase was rather truncated back then?) Best of all, the foster son grows up to take the abbot's place, proving that good nurture can overcome bad nature any day of the week.

To the modern eye, these stories seem like a bunch of hooey.  But they grow on you, mysteriously wrapping themselves into your consciousness. Women are often misunderstood, in the workplace and even in monastery settings. But it is still true that repentance, patience and self-control can build up a monastic dynasty.