Early Christian Sex Change. the Ascetical Context of "Being Made Male" in Early Christianity
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Marquette University e-Publications@Marquette Dissertations, Theses, and Professional Dissertations (1934 -) Projects Early Christian Sex Change. The Ascetical Context of "Being Made Male" in Early Christianity Jennifer Lynne Henery Marquette University Follow this and additional works at: https://epublications.marquette.edu/dissertations_mu Part of the History of Religions of Western Origin Commons Recommended Citation Henery, Jennifer Lynne, "Early Christian Sex Change. The Ascetical Context of "Being Made Male" in Early Christianity" (2011). Dissertations (1934 -). 154. https://epublications.marquette.edu/dissertations_mu/154 EARLY CHRISTIAN SEX CHANGE. THE ASCETICAL CONTEXT OF ―BEING MADE MALE‖ IN EARLY CHRISTIANITY by Jennifer L. Henery, B.A., M.A. A Dissertation submitted to the Faculty of the Graduate School, Marquette University, in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy Milwaukee, Wisconsin December 2011 ABSTRACT EARLY CHRISTIAN SEX CHANGE. THE ASCETICAL CONTEXT OF ―BEING MADE MALE‖ IN EARLY CHRISTIANITY Jennifer L. Henery, B.A., M.A. Marquette University, 2011 In nearly all of the accounts of the lives of holy women in the Apocryphal Acts of the Apostles, the Apocryphal Gospels, and the Acts of the Christian Martyrs eschatologically motivated enkrateia or martyrdom is imaged by women being made male. In these texts sex change imagery is most spectacular as it is manifested in a plethora of ways. Women change sex and become male by dressing like men, by transcending the gender roles of women and assuming the gender roles of men, by becoming physically or bodily male, and by simply being called men or male. Most scholars look to philosophy, heresy and sociology for an explanation of this transformational imagery and explain the imagery as the liberation of women from a patriarchal society or as indicative of the empowerment of women to teach and preach. What they fail to take into account is that the transformation of the holy woman is primarily theological and that it stands in continuity with the portraits of the transformation of holy men and women before and after our texts. This dissertation shows that in the second and third century Christian stories containing transformational imagery of being made male, the vision of the eschaton motivates individuals to lives of enkrateia and martyrdom. Individuals who choose encratic lives or the life of martyrdom become holy and are described in imagery reflective of the eschaton. The eschatological vision in these texts is the product of Biblical tradition and Second Temple Judaism; visions of the eschaton explain the future state as a return to prelapsarian Eden, as participation in the heavenly temple, and as victory in the eschatological battle. This vision is the context in which transformational imagery should be read. Its content gives meaning to the transformational imagery of being made male. i ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Jennifer L. Henery, B.A., M.A. The journey of the narrative of this dissertation only partly appears on the page. Parallel to the academic endeavor of showing the eschatological context for the transformational imagery of being made male, is my encounter with the transformed holy men and women in ancient texts as well as those guides on my journey, both living and dead, who are in the process of becoming holy. In order to properly offer my gratitude to those who aided in this journey and to show my academic interests in transformational imagery, it is to the narrative that does not appear on the pages of my dissertation that I turn. Making acknowledgements is a difficult thing. Words can never express my indebtedness first to my grandmother Emma, who in simplicity of life and generosity of heart introduced me to God as her companion and guide who was transforming her into a holy woman. She taught me Christ-like lessons, not from her lips but from her life. In her kindness and Christ-like charity, she acted the part of Christ with naturalness and ease and grace that rendered her every gesture lovely. I do not have the privilege to be here today because of my perseverance and my intellectual acumen alone, but because of the perseverance and faithfulness of my grandmother, who told me stories, sang to me, loved me and showed me what the process of a life being transformed looked like. The beginning of my academic exploration is credited to David and Kathy Carlson, professors from Franklin College who showed me that love, life, literature, and theology were about a human journey and encouraged me to ask questions. When my grandmother died I became easily detoured by different signposts. I needed to fill both the life of the head and of the heart and turned to the study of academic theology and philosophy. I read Flannery O‘Connor stories and Karl Barth and learned to reconcile the perplexities of the Old Testament with the Wellhausen theory of J, E, D, P. I began to explain away the academic inconsistencies that I saw in religion and thought made religion not worthy of academic inquiry. So much of what I was reading about God in those theology books, though, did not sound like or look like, the study of God that I watched in my grandmother‘s life. Through their teaching and love, David and Kathy taught me to search and to ask questions and to be open to a journey rather than to just pursue answers or to argue my point. Then there is the Community of the Transfiguration, more precisely Sister Mary Luke and Mother Ann, my Martha and Mary, who proved to be more than guideposts on my journey. Like my grandmother they were and are true beacons reflecting the light of Christ preparing me for a place both in this life and the afterlife. After being introduced to the academic challenge of the study of theology, I was to go to seminary. I was not going to become a minister or to learn to preach God to other people, but to ask questions, to figure this God thing out. I was going to read theology and learn the history of the text and translation of the Bible and to understand the development of the Church. If I understood it, it would make sense. ii The summer before I was to enter seminary, I accepted a job working as a summer camp counselor for the Community of the Transfiguration, an Episcopal convent. I was to take impoverished inner city boys to the country for summer vacation so that their lives could be transfigured by love and an opportunity to see the world lived out in a different way. Little did I know it would be my life that would be transfigured. The sisters showed me madness in life. Their life seemed unreasonable, extreme, and romantic. There was an utter seriousness to prayer, to work, to choir, to reading, to study, to silence, and to everything else that was a part of their life. Their life was mad: they prayed for hours every day, they ate breakfast and lunch in silence, they had sisters who were contemplatives, and sisters who ministered to the poor. Some sisters visited people in jail, some played with children, and some educated wealthy children. They did not get married nor have children. Surely, God could not be asking for this. On one of the drives to the country, where we took the boys on vacation, Sister Mary Luke read to me a book called Three Religious Rebels which was about the founding of the Cistercian order. For the first time in my life Christ‘s exhortation to ―sell all you have, give it to the poor, and come and follow me,‖ made sense. These nuns were as mad as Christ and I wanted to love and study and pray with this seriousness. I put off seminary to be at the convent for a year. My Martha, Sister Mary Luke, allowed me to be mad. I read with seriousness. I played with seriousness, I prayed with seriousness, and I loved with seriousness. In the books she handed me I read of monks and nuns whose lives were transformed by a call from God to singular service, men and women who became transformed by God‘s grace. I listened to music that praised God from the depth of the soul. But, it was my Mary, Sister Ann, who showed me that I needed to listen to God. During that year I was surrounded by the liturgy and the communion of saints, and the divide between heaven and earth at times seemed very transparent. As I burned passionately for God and devoured books on and about the religious life, Mother Ann would softly and gently offer tempering words: ―You know Jennifer, I read in a book once, ‗Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.‖ Again in my life, I watched people being transformed into holy women. And then the convent sent me away. At first it was just to study. Then it was so that I would listen for the will of God. I tried to study with the madness that I learned at the convent. I tried to pray with the madness I saw at the convent. I wanted to go home to the convent. I ended up at Marquette. There my journey became an intense encounter with texts and people. Very early in my academic career I was introduced to Saint Augustine by Dr. Barnes. I had read through Saint Augustine‘s Confessions before. I knew the saint‘s religious journey. I knew the story of the pears and the origin of the term ―original sin.‖ I knew Saint Augustine used philosophy to explain theological ideas, but as we read Augustine in Dr.