The Female Pope (The Popess
Who Just Won’t Go Away)
By: Robert P. Lockwood catholicsay.com
Let’s have a Catholic urban legend with
a twist. This one dates from before the Reformation and its sources are
therefore entirely Catholic. And in a final twist, the first widely accepted
refutation came from a Calvinist scholar.
It is the legend of Pope Joan, allegedly the first and only woman
elected pope.
According to the story, she was pope in the ninth century
during the so-called “Dark Ages” until her female identity was revealed. As old
as the 13th century, and as recent as a 2005 ABC News “special,” Pope Joan will
be around as long as she serves an anti-Catholic purpose.
She began as an anti-papal fable, persisted as nativist
anti-Catholic propaganda, and has blossomed into a 21st-century feminist icon.
In many ways, Pope Joan fits the traditional Catholic urban legend. Take
any historical period and she can be molded into a solidly anti-Catholic niche.
In the 16th century, Protestant dissenters used her to
illustrate the nadir of an ever-corrupt papacy. In the 19th century, she was
portrayed as a woman violated and ruined by lascivious clericalism, symbolic of
the perversity to which Rome had sunk.
In the 21st century, she represents the empowered female
who fought the intransigent sexism of the Catholic Church and who therefore had
to be destroyed.
Not-So-Pious
Legend
What is the legend of the female pope? Stories abound, but let’s go with
the most recent edition, a “special” ABC News television report in December
2005.
Breathlessly narrated by Diane Sawyer, the ABC News rendition begins in
the town of Mainz, Germany, in the ninth century, where a bright young girl
manages to sneak into a monastery disguised as a boy.
She becomes an adept student and eventually makes her way
to Athens, still disguised as a man. But by then she had also taken a lover who
shared her secret.
From Athens, the little lady heads to ninth-century Rome, described by
Ms. Sawyer as the home of “bawdy monks, scheming cardinals, cross-dressing
saints, intrigue, melodrama, corruption and violence.”
Now known as “English John,” the girl becomes a respected
curial secretary, then a cardinal, and—drumroll please—”the choice of all for
pope in the year 855.”
But there was to be no happy ending: “Pope Joan was in the midst of a
papal procession… when . . . she felt sharp pains in her stomach . . . The
unthinkable happened: The pope was having a baby.”
While acknowledging that the story concludes differently depending on
the telling, Sawyer reported that Pope Joan was either stoned or dragged from a
horse’s tail to her death.
And then kicking the legend into high gear, Sawyer
asserted that embarrassment over Pope Joan resulted in mandated priestly
celibacy (“a requirement that’s still controversial today”), a crackdown on
powerful female mystics who claimed that they could communicate directly with
God and who did not need the male-dominated Church, and a host of “women
martyrs . . . who were tortured for their religious beliefs.”
A whole bunch of Catholic urban legends rolled into one there.
The Myth of
“English John”
The 21st-century moral of the legend of Pope Joan is clear: The Church
fears powerful women, the Church has purposefully redacted out any mention of
powerful women from its history, and the persistent tradition of priestly
celibacy resulted from the hatred of women.
The fact that priestly celibacy existed in the Western Church centuries
before this fable and that powerful women were part of Church history long
before secular society would allow such a thing is immaterial to the
propaganda.
The amazing thing—or maybe not so amazing—is that no one
at ABC News considered that this might be contemporary anti-Catholic
woolgathering, rather than any kind of objective presentation. It’s all just
the “normative thinking and part of the cultural baggage of the progressive
mind,” to quote myself.
So, what’s the story on Pope Joan? In a nutshell, as described by a
recent historian of the papacy, John-Peter Pham in Heirs of
the Fisherman (Oxford
University Press), Pope Joan is “a legendary female pope who never existed” (253).
Yet, “from the mid-13th through the mid-17th centuries,
the story that there had been a female pope . . . at some date in the ninth,
tenth, or eleventh century was almost universally accepted as historical fact” (Pham,Heirs,
253).
According to Pham, the first time “Pope Joan” was mentioned in any known
historical record was in the “Universal History of Metz” around 1250.
The work was attributed to Jean de Mailly, a Dominican
priest who gave the basic outline of the fable. He wrote that Pope Victor III
(1087), who had only a four-month pontificate, was succeeded by a woman
disguised as a man, who died after giving birth during a papal procession.
Another Dominican priest and a Franciscan friar repeated the tale in
their own works, but moved the female “papacy” back to 1100, then 915. It was
then included in the “Chronicle of Popes and Emperors” by Martin of Troppau at
the end of the 13th century.
Martin gave the story its essential outline, with Joan
being elected as “John Anglicus” after the death of Pope Leo IV (847-855).
Riding in procession from St. Peter’s to the Lateran
Basilica, she allegedly gave birth on a narrow street between the Coliseum and
the Basilica of San Clemente. She died in childbirth and was buried on the
spot.
Later generations attached to the story the gory details
of an angry mob killing her and the baby.
A Myth Gains,
Loses, Steam
The myth of Joan would have been forgotten as the invention it was had
it not been picked up in the 14th century by Italian poet Boccaccio, who used
it for his own anti-papal propaganda. Other humanists followed suit, trying to
settle an Italian score against the popes for their high-paying sponsors.
Siena Cathedral had a bust of Joan, a sign less of its
historicity than of its feud with the Vatican. Pham points out that the story
of Joan was later used by the Bohemian dissenter John Hus (d. 1415) as part of
his list of alleged misdeeds of the papacy.
As early as the 15th century, when the first stirrings of what might be
called a more disciplined approach to history had begun, the story of Joan was
being called into question.
When the fable was used as anti-Catholic fodder during
the Reformation, Catholic historians began to question its historicity. And
soon, oddly enough, their perspective was confirmed by a French Calvinist
historian.
David Blondel (1590-1655) was a Protestant living in the Netherlands who
effectively used the early tools of historical study to dismantle the myth of
Pope Joan.
Tracking the history of the popes during that period and
the lack of any contemporary mention of Joan in what would have been, if true,
an astounding event to be exploited by papal enemies, he dismissed the legend.
His fellow Protestants of the era dismissed Blondel because, as Pierre Bayle
said, “the Protestant interest requires the story of Joan to be true.”
Which is why the legend of Pope Joan persisted. It made for good
Reformation polemics. The story of Pope Joan was not invented in the
Reformation, like many Catholic urban legends were.
But the Reformation gave it the impetus to leap into
modern thought—and eventually show up in an ABC News special in the 21st
century.
The Missing Gap
The fundamental flaw in the Pope Joan legend and why any serious
historian would reject it is that there is no “gap” in the actual traceable
historical record where “Pope Joan” would have served if the legend were true.
The legend places Pope Joan in the papacy from 855 to
857, elected as “John Anglicus.” But Pope Leo IV, who died in June 855, was
immediately succeeded by Pope Benedict III. We know this because Benedict’s
election was not without controversy.
The Byzantine Emperor tried to have his son installed as
pope in his place. Rome was invaded and Benedict imprisoned. When the Romans
objected to this, Benedict was freed from prison that September. There was
simply no historical time gap when an imaginary pope could have served.
Of equal importance to historians is the absence of any record, mention,
or reference to a “Pope Joan” until nearly 400 years after her election.
As Blondel realized, it would have been impossible for
such an event to have taken place, or for a papacy to have existed for nearly three
years without some contemporary record from those years.
And even when some versions push the date forward, a gap
of centuries before she is first mentioned remains, and the historical record
of the existing popes at those times is irrefutable.
So there was clearly no Pope Joan. Two questions remain: Where did the
legend first arise and why are we still dealing with it today?
As to where the legend came from, historians can only guess. Pham states
that “the kernel of the story is generally taken to be an ancient Roman
folktale” (Heirs 254).
Others see a possible source coming out of allegations
that Pope John VIII (872-882) was effeminate, though even that charge seems
lacking in substance.
Still others suggest that the story may have come out of
the papacy of Pope Sergius (904-911), whom the Romans viewed as weak and
dominated by powerful and corrupt women.
Certain historians believe that the legend might have
come out of the Eastern Byzantine Empire as a means to discredit the “western”
papacy.
Whatever the source, history is rife with legends of women disguised as
men rising to great ranks. Ancient Greece and Rome had them. But the purpose of
such legends was usually satirical: It was meant to show how weak or corrupt
the men of the time and place had become.
The moral of the tale was that the men were so spineless
that a woman could assume leadership. And that means that the legend of Pope
Joan is hardly feminist hagiography. If anything, it reflects a degrading and
persistent animus toward women that lingered from pagan culture.
Why are we still dealing with Pope Joan today when thousands of similar
medieval legends have disappeared?
Google Pope Joan and you will find millions of Internet
references. The legend persists for the same reason that all Catholic urban
legends persist—they fit in with the contemporary anti-Catholic propaganda.
Joan has survived—despite the earliest forms of
historical criticism showing her to be a myth—because she fits an agenda.
As Bayle might say to Blondel were these men around today, “Thesecular interest requires the story of Joan to
be true.”
RELATED POSTS:
What Jesus
rejected,
the popes
accepted
..
10 Torture devices used by the Catholic Church in the Inquisition
..
The Roman Catholic Popes Evil
Behavior
No comments:
Post a Comment