Showing posts with label imago dei. Show all posts
Showing posts with label imago dei. Show all posts

Sunday, February 17, 2019

Transgender Icons: Queer Christian Images of Marinos the Monk


"The One Who Saves the Soul
Is Like the One Who Created It"

The Vita of Marinos the Monk
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Assignment Overview

In this exercise, the seminar will produce a series of icons of St. Marinos the Monk based a variety of attributes that characterize saints: Imago Dei, Imitatio Christi, Christus Medicus, Baptism, and Sainthood. These traits all have corresponding qualities in the lives of transgender people in general: authenticity, living your best lives, service to the community, transition, and remembrance. 
By focusing on these traits, this assignment eschews debates at to whether St. Marinos the Monk is a man (he lived as a man), transgender (he lived a transitioned life from his youth to his death), should be called transgender because he did not use the word (he wouldn't use any of our words, given that he did not speak English), or if he can be holy and transgender at the same time (he is a trans saint). I have addressed these considerations have been made in other posts and forthcoming peer-reviewed articles. Thus they may be reviewed in a lecture. This assignment challenges students to engage not in skepticism but in celebration. How might a trans life be honored as sainted?

By focusing on these positive traits, this exercise turns students away from the testing and skeptical tone that dominates cisgender society and the grim and negative tone that tends to surround queer allies when discussing transgender lives. The Vita of St. Marinos the Monk testify to the positivity and virtues of a trans life as much as they recounting anti-trans prejudices. A few of these negative prejudices include the tendency among hagiographers, icon makers, translators and scholars to deadname as well as misgender Marinos the Monk. He was known as a male, a monk, during life and this should be respected. He called himself Marinos and this should be respected. Additionally, the inability of local early Christian communities to recognize and name trans identities testifies to the ingrained ignorance and dominance of cisgender mindsets. Had society been more aware and accepting, Marinos might have been able to come out during his life instead of after his death. All these negative circumstances may be considered but at the center of the story is Marinos the Monk, a figure of positive traits that overcame these conditions to live a sainted trans life.

The task of assignment is to create an image with a name, a description -- write, St. Marinos the Monk, Patron Saint of [Fill in the Blank] -- and then provide a summary based on close reading the text alongside additional research. These icons will be made in small groups and then shared with the rest of the class.


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Sample Groups

Group 1: St. Marinos the Monk
 and the Imago Dei


Consider the argument between Marinos and his father. Although it seems as though he is calling on his father to save his soul by letting him also join the monastery, take a moment to ponder how Marinos himself might be living out his Imago Dei: saving his soul by transitioning into the image of a monk God made him to be. By affirming his gender (monk), how might Marinos be like the one who created him to be a monk?


"Father, do you wish to save your own soul and see mine destroyed? Do you not know what the Lord says That the good shepherd giveth his life for his sheep?" And again she said <to him>, "The one who saves the soul is like the one who created it?"


Terms to research: Imago Dei, living authentically, suicide rate for transgender youths.

Group 2: St. Marinos the Monk
and Baptism

Consider the argument between Marinos and his father. How does Marinos's father misunderstand his trans son's gender? How does living authentically as a monk answer Marinos's father's concerns? How is transitioning and taking monk's vows like baptism?

"Child what am I to do with you? You are a female, and I desire to enter a monastery. How then can you remain with me? For it is through the members of your sex that the devil wages war on the servants of God."

To which his daughter responded, "Not so, my lord, for I shall not enter <the monastery> as you say, but I shall first cut off the hair of my head, and clothe myself like a man, and then enter the mastery with you."


Terms to research: baptism, becoming a monk, monk's habits, coming out to your parents as transgender, gender versus sexuality, asexuality, abstinence and chastity.

Group 3: St. Marinos the Monk
and Imitatio Christi

Consider the ways in which Marinos is living his best life after he is able to transition. How does living an authentic life make one more successful as your work, relationships, and even prayer? How does the comment about Marinos being an eunuch relate to early Christian and medieval understandings of transgender?

"Day by day, the child advanced in all the virtues, in obedience, in humility, and in much asceticism. After she lived thus for a few years in the monastery, <some of the monks> considered her to be a eunuch, for she was beardless and of delicate voice. Others considered that <this condition> was instead the result of her great asceticism, for she partook of food only every second day."



Terms to research: authentic lives, best lives, eunuchs, gender euphoria.

Group 4: St. Marinos the Monk
and Christus Medicus

Consider Marinos's ability to heal with his touch. How does the Monk's authentic life serve to heal others beyond having miraculous powers? How might his authenticity, trans identity, perseverance and sainthood (being set apart) serve to heal who encounter him?

"Eventually it came to pass that her father died, by <Mary, remaining in the monastery>,<continued> to progress in asceticism and in obedience so that she received from God the gift of healing those who were troubled by demons. For if she placed her hand upon the sick, they were immediately healed."

Terms to research: Imitatio Christi, gender dysphoria, gender euphoria, Christus Medicus.

Group 5: Marinos the Monk
and Sainthood

Consider the reaction of Marinos's community after discovering he was trans after death. How does the Superior's reactions mirror those of friends and family after an oppressed transgender person dies? How does death feed into advocacy? Is there a critique to give communities that are better at mourning the dead than helping the living?

"Drawing near and seeing <for himself>, the <superior> cast himself down at her feet, and with many tears cried out, "Forgive me, for I have sinned against you. I shall lie dead here at your holy feet until such time as I hear forgiveness for all the wrongs that I have done you."


..."The superior thereupon send <word> to the innkeeper to come and see him. When he arrived, the superior said to him, "Marinos is dead."... "You must repent, brother, for you have sinned before God. You also incited me by your words, and for your sake I also sinned."

Terms to research: ally, advocate, transgender day of remembrance, deadnames, suicide rate for transgender people, homicide rate for transgender people.

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Starter Questions


1) What core concept did your group examine? How did you translate the theological term into current English? What are other words you consider?

2) How does your passage demonstrate the principles of the concept? In what ways does it address transgender life? In what ways does it address gender Christian life?


3) How did your group visualize the concept and passage? What associations and images are you using to translate the trans Christian sainthood?

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Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Imago Transvesti: Margery Kempe as a Transgender Saint


"Ser, I have non hows to put hir 
inne les than I putte hir among men. "

Book of Margery Kempe

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As a genre of embodiment and literature, hagiography creates continuity through diversity. Evident generic features exist across time but are embodied uniquely and personally. Each saint may be said to be set apart Imago Dei but each image is distinct. Likewise, the Imago Mundi that the saint turns away from changes over time. Each saint may be a model for Imitatio Christi, yet lived in different ways and circumstances. Thus, while lives and stories may be composed in association with trans hagiographic texts, the process and ends of each may be unique. Thus, whether or not Margery Kempe is recognized as a saint by the Catholic or Orthodox churches, nonetheless her Book constructs a hagiography that clearly models Kempe according to saints and sections of the narrative according to saints’ lives, following in the tradition of Imago Transvesti and Imitatio Transvesti as modeled by “the Life of St. Marinos the Monk.” Between 1413 and 1415, Kempe is traveling through the Holy Land and Rome, during which time she is given a persistent Imago Transvesti. In a vision, she is living as a trans virgin, transforming the image of herself from a mother (as the world has assigned her to be) to a virgin (as God commanded). The transition from mother to virgin is embodied not only by the exchange of clothing, dark colors for hues of white, but from the locomotion of the travel. Quite literally, on the road she is more free and boundaries of identity more fluid. Also, Jerusalem and Rome, the centers of Christian world, function to re-center the trans saint. In England, often shown on the margins of the medieval Mappa Mundi, Kempe is marginalized for her revelations from God and later for her trans virginity. Moving from the margins to the center coincides with her movement from the Imago Mundi, the image of her worldly self, to the Imago Dei, God’s image of her.

Around the summer of 1413, the Imago Transvesti is given to Kempe in a vision, wherein God commands her to go on pilgrimage, promising her freedom and protection if she will mark herself as an Imago Dei by wearing white clothes. God commands, "dowtyr, I sey to the I wyl that thu were clothys of whyte and non other colowr, for thu schal ben arayd aftyr my wyl" (Daughter, I say to you that I will that you be in clothes of white and no other color, for you will be arrayed after my will).[1] White clothes on a woman are a medieval signifier of virginity. Kempe worries over her embodiment; marked by years of childbearing. While Genesis 1.27 asserts that God creates humanity in a divine image, including gender, "creavit Deus hominem ad imaginem suam ad imaginem Dei creavit illum masculum et feminam creavit eos" (God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them), the medieval Imago Dei must combat the Imago Mundi and the gender culture assigns.[2] Wearing white, Kempe would be insisting that the Imago Dei that God has set in her heart (virginity) is more true than the truth assigned to her body (motherhood). The motherhood may have been the will of her husband and the world, but the virginity is the will of God. The radicalness of this supernatural command is evident in the phrase, "whyte and non other colowr." God is clarifying that Kempe would be taking on the identity of a virgin and rejecting her identity as a mother. The color of the one identity will not be seen in the other. The function of clothes is to assert identity markers in ways that usually hide or overrule the body. The body may be suggested but not seen when clothes is covering it. No word is given from God that her body will be changed but rather its meaning will be reassigned and overruled by the clothing.

The Imago Transvesti often contradicts the assigned genders of the world. For fear of embodying this contradiction and the battles her body would have to suffer as a result, Kempe pleads to God, "A, der Lord, yf I go arayd on other maner than other chast women don, I drede that the pepyl wyl slawndyr me. Thei wyl sey I am an ypocryt and wondryn upon me" (Dear Lord, if I go arrayed as a virgin, I dread people will slander me. They will say I am a hypocrite and stare at me).[3] A medieval woman, Kempe is aware of how clothing signifies distinct gender identities, between men and women, as well as between women. Virgins wear certain clothes to identify themselves, wives others clothes. To wear white clothes would be to declare that she is a virgin. One may transition from the identity of virgin to mother but not from mother to virgin.
Kempe fears the scorn that comes from such a transition, particularly being a hypocrite. A hypocrite is one who says they are one way and behaves in another way. If Kempe says she is a virgin but has given birth to children, others will say that she is this special kind of liar. Yet this is what God commands in showing her this vision. "Ya, dowtyr," God says, "the mor wondryng that thow hast for my lofe, the mor thu plesyst me" (Yes, daughter, the more they wonder at you as you live the life I command, the more you please me).[4] God is showing her a true revelation of herself as a virgin. So far, this Imago Dei is only visible to her. To embody this Imago Tranvesti, like other trans saints, she would be taking a risk of becoming a target. Yet by embodying the invisible truth of the Imago Transvesti, set apart as a trans saint, Kempe is making the Imago Dei visible to the world. She will be revealing the Imago Transvesti to others as God has revealed it to her and make the world consider the diversity in God's creation.

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Wanting to test the truth of the Imago Transvesti as Imago Dei, Kempe delays for a time until she can get validation of her revelation from the Church. Around 1413, she seeks Bishop Repingdon to affirm the command for her transition. Hearing her plea to wear white as a virgin, the Bishop gives her a discouraging response, " I have take my cownsel, and my cownsel wyl not gyf me to professe yow in so synguler a clothyng wythowtyn bettyr avysement" (I have considered with consul, and my consul will not allow me to affirm that you should wear such clothing without better advisement).[5] The repetition of the word "consul" affirms how Kempe's Imago Dei is elided, marginalized, and bound by the discourse of the world. Society affirms that she is a wife and mother. Social norms are that mothers do not wear white. The Bishop is not willing to take a risk on an Imago Transvesti that he cannot see and contradict the Imago Mundi he can see. Where the Bishop keeps the question open is in allowing Kempe to go on the commanded pilgrimage that she might prove the truth of her Imago Dei by living it. The Bishop allows, "ye sey be the grace of God ye wyl go to Jerusalem. Therfor prayth to God that it may abyden tyl ye come fro Jerusalem that ye be bettyr prevyd and knowyn" (You see by the grace of God that you will go to Jerusalem. Therefore pray to God that you may abide until you come back from Jerusalem with better proof and knowledge).[6] Pilgrimages by their difficulty were used as tests of unseen graces. Like how many trans persons describe transition as a journey, the work of turning the invisible Imago Dei into a visible embodiment takes time and effort. In other words, the Bishop insists that he will only believe what he can see. If Kempe embodies and lives the narrative of trans virginity on pilgrimage, the Imago Transvesti will be given a form the Bishop cannot deny.

The vision of the Imago Transvesti can be revealed, transitions are often not a smooth process full of starts, stops, and set-backs. Kempe does set off on pilgrimage, yet not until the summer of 1414. Rejected by fellow pilgrims, Kempe prays to for help. In reply, God again gives her a command and a vision of herself as a virgin, " I schal ordeyn for the ryth wel and bryng the in safté to Rome and hom ageyn into Inglond wythowtyn ony velany of thi body yyf thow wilt be clad in white clothys and weryn hem as I seyd to the whil thu wer in Inglond" (I will ordain your wellness and bring you safely to Rome and home to England without any violence, if you will wear the white clothes I instructed of you while you were in England).[7] As is common in saint's lives, Imago Dei arrive when saints are at their most vulnerable. Rather than being a threat to her wellness, the Imago Transvesti becomes the mode by which her wellness is ordained and assured.  The trans saint of this hagiography, Kempe accepts the invisible truth of the Imago Transvesti, although she fears she will now be called a liar and hypocrite. To this worry, God assures, "I am the spirit of God... Thu fondist me nevyr deceyvabyl, ne I bid the no thyng do but that whech is worshep to God and profyte to thy sowle yyf thu wilt do theraftyr" (I am the spirit of God... you found me never deceptive, now I bid you nothing but what is good to God and profitable to your soul if you will follow me hereafter).[8] Often trans persons are accused of being in disguise, yet their insistence of demonstrates authenticity over time. Saints are called hypocrites for contradicting the way of the world, but are vindicated by the end of their stories. Marinos is rejected by his community on charges of hypocrisy, yet he is vindicated in the end by God. Marking Kempe as such a saint, God promises Kempe that her story will follow likewise.

There is a critical difference between the truth of Imago Mundi that it is made and reasoned from other true things while Imago Dei are revealed by the Creator of Logos. If as Augustine writes in "De Trinitatae”, “in the soul of man… [is] that image of the Creator,” then the truth of the Imago Dei within Kempe is true although it is not yet seen. [9]If she embodies the Imago Transvesti, the charges of inconstancy will fall before the constant image of truth God makes of her. The promises of God and creature found in the Imago Transvesti prove true over the course of the pilgrimage from Jerusalem to Rome. Shortly after praying and receiving the revelation of the Imago Dei once again, Kempe discovers an Irishman with a bent back who speaks English named Richard. Although he is uncertain of the truth and wisdom of the Image she shares with him of their journey, Kempe is able to convince him through her persistence and insistence of God's truth.
Occurring in private revelation remains consistent, yet delayed until Kempe changes enough in person and circumstance to be able to transition. To the surprise of many, including Richard and the group of pilgrims who had abandoned her in Jerusalem, Kempe and her friend arrives safely in Rome. There, Kempe commits to being constant to her word as well and makes moves to transition. When in Rome, Kempe ordered white clothes and wore them "as sche was comawndyd for to do yerys beforn in hir sowle be revelacyon, and now it was fulfilt in effect” (as it was commanded years before in her revelation, so it was now fulfilled).[10] In committing herself to the Imago Transvesti, Kempe "fulfilt" several promises. God's Imago Dei is proven, the Bishop contingency is answered, Kempe's promise is fulfilled. In England, the established order could not see the truth in her Imago Transvesti, yet in Rome it has become visible for all to see. 

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Once the Imago Mundi is seen beside the Imago Dei, society becomes jealous. Soon after transitioning, Kempe became the target for a local priest, " He steryd meche pepyl agen hir and seyd mech evyl of hir, for sche weryd white clothyng mor than other dedyn whech wer holyar and bettyr than evyr was sche as hym thowt" (He stirred many people against her and said much evil of her on account of her white clothing; as if she deemed herself holier and better than others, he thought).[11] The revelation of Imago Transvesti can conflict with the world that rejects it. Imago Mundi establish values and norms, setting certain embodiments in the center of its world and others on the margins. Imago Dei asserts a vision of the world where the margins can be centers of their own. As Kempe is told to reject all color from her white clothes, so the world feels the force of her rejection. Imago Mundi that judged and condemns her, now fears that she will judge. The secret of the Imago Dei in hagiographies is its constant insistence through the mutable Imago Mundi that can draw the saint into inconstancy. When in Rome, Kempe is introduced to a Dutch priest who convinces her to confess to him. He asks her, will you do as I bid? [12] Yes, she replies. Having set her up with a promise to submit to any of his instructions, the priest charges her to leave her white clothes and wear black clothes. Kempe submits to the priest as an authority of the world and God, " than had sche felyng that sche plesyd God wyth hir obediens" (then had the feeling she pleased God with her obedience).[13] For Kempe, norms are stronger when voiced by a churchman, when the Imago Mundi and Dei can purport to speak in one voice. Yet readers know the conflict. Bound by a new promise in contradiction to the old, Kempe is caught between Imago Mundi and Imago Dei; each asserting claims, insisting on her constancy and loyalty.

Having abandoned normate motherhood and then trans virginity, Kempe is ridiculed for betraying both her masters. She has fallen into the position described in Matthew 6:24, "nemo potest duobus dominis servire aut enim unum odio habebit et alterum diliget aut unum sustinebit et alterum contemnet non potestis" (No man can serve two masters. For either he will hate the one, and love the other: or he will sustain the one, and despise the other).[14] Just as Jesus is describing the jealous conflict between the worldly and divine, Kempe finds herself serving different masters who are giving her conflicting commands and images of herself. The transition back to a wife was most felt as a betrayal by those who had affirmed her virginity. Her friends in Rome could not understand why she gave up on the Imago Transvesti, asked her she had been robbed. No, she replied, then fled Rome. On the road, she runs into one of the priests that had opposed her transition to virgin and smugly applauds that she realized the foolishness of her Imago Transvesti, "he enjoyid gretly that sche was put fro hir wille and seyd unto hir, 'I am glad that ye gon in blak clothyng" (He greatly enjoyed she had been taken away from her previous choice and said, 'I am glad you have gone back to black clothing').[15] At the disappointment of her friends in Rome and the satisfaction of a man she considered her enemy, Kempe began to reconsider her choices. Before the priest could move on, she told him, "Ser, owyr Lord wer not displesyd thow I weryd whyte clothys, for he wyl that I do so" (Sir, our Lord was not displeased that I wore white clothes, for her wills that I do so).[16] The Imago Dei has not abandoned her, and she has not entirely abandoned her Imago Dei. After submitting to the Imago Mundi, Kempe's life becomes more inconstant and full of conflict as Imago Transvesti constantly continues to assert its primacy.

In the end, Imago Transvesti wins out against the inconstancy of Imago Mundi by asserting the constancy that Augustine describes, “if it is made after the image of God …certainly it always is.” Given her lack of peace during her return to her worldly identity as a mother it is not surprising that upon her return to Rome Kempe also returns to her virgin identity. The Book testifies that while she was in Rome a little before Christmas, our Lord Jesus Christ commanded her, “to gon to hir gostly fadyr, Wenslawe be name, and byddyn hym gevyn hir leve to weryn ageyn hir white clothys" (to go to her confessor, Wenslawe by name, and bid him give her leave to wear her white clothes again).[17] Location and locomotion continues to function as representative of transition. Movement destabilizes her but Rome reasserts the fixity of Imago Transvesti. While she moves, Rome does not. While she changes, the Imago Transvesti does not.  While before she confused the Imago Mundi and the Imago Dei as acting in the same voice, the voice of Christ disrupts and divides this conflation. In the end, the command from God overrules the command from a priest, "whan sche teld hym the wyl of owr Lord, he durst not onys sey nay. And so weryd sche white clothys evyr aftyr"(when she told him the will of our Lord, he dared not say 'no.' And so she would wear white clothes ever after).[18] The jealous match between Imago Mundi and Imago Dei concludes here as Kempe comes to understand that obedience to the church is not always the same as obedience to God, especially when the church becomes the enforcer to worldly gender norms at conflict with Imago Transvesti. Imago Dei of Genesis may be used time and again to assert gender binaries and divisions yet are undone by living out the failure of these social constructs and experiencing the persistence of trans truths.

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Note

[1] Staley 728-3.
[2] Genesis 1.27.
[3] Staley 733-5.
[4] Ibid. 735-6
[5] Ibid. 796-9.
[6] Ibid. 799.
[7] Ibid. 1758-61.
[8] Ibid. 1756
[9] Augustine. The Trinity. Stephen McKenna trans. 6.874.
[10] Staley 1854.
[11] Ibid. 1960-3
[12] Ibid. 1966-99.
[13] Ibid.
[14] Biblia Sacra Vulgata (Vulgate): Holy Bible in Latin. “Matthew.” 6:24. Stuttgart, Germany: German Bible Society, 2007. Print.
[15] Staley 1966-99.
[16] Ibid.
[17] Ibid. 2136-8.
[18] Ibid. 2136-40.


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Tuesday, November 1, 2016

Trans Saints: Imago Transvesti in The Last Time I Wore A Dress


"I stared in the mirror at the girl 
who was me, and not me:
the girl I was supposed to be."

Dylan Scholinski
The Last Time I Wore A Dress
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Imago Dei and Imago Mundi

On this All Saint's Day, I return to the question of what and who makes a saint "a saint." Is it being an exemplar of values held by the Church? The values of the World? Are saints the embodiment of all things society holds as ideal and normative? This is how saints are often regarded. In the Imago Mundi, saints are those who fit into the picture, in opposition of those sinners who do not fit. A careful examination of medieval hagiographies demonstrates that the conventional vision of saints as Imago Mundi are inaccurate. Saints were saints because they were set apart. Saints did not fit in much like sinners. In fact, by the standards of the world in which they lived, many saints may have been regarded as sinners. The marking of these saints inverted the value systems of the world and God. Saints could be and often would be Imago Dei that were set apart because they directly opposed, reformed, or resisted the Imago Mundi. One typical case that represents the subversive creativity of the Imago Dei was the Imago Transvesti of transgender saints. These trans saints are recorded in trans hagiographies as often existing on the edge of society, in places such as monestaries, where they offer an alternative image of like and an alternative habit of life. A more detailed investigation of the Imago Dei and Imitatio Transvesti in the Life of Saint Marinos the Monk on previous articles. In these medieval trans hagiographies, the trans saints faces oppression but is vindicated in the end. Because these trans lives were celebrated, they became honored as saints in the Orthodox and Catholic Church. Here, I wish to examine modern secular stories of transgender lives that do not end with celebration and canonization. What do transgender hagiographies look like when the Church no longer authorizes new trans saints and indeed has largely adopted the Imago Dei's exclusion of the Imago and Imitatio Transvesti? Who are our trans saints today and how are they made?

To explore how the Imago Transvesti works in modern secular hagiography I will examine one its the genre's genealogical descents: trans memoir. In form, trans memoirs share many generic features with hagiographies. In short, they tell the life of a trans person. A more complex answer is that they seek to make a misunderstood life of someone who is set apart from the world better understood by the world. Often, these trans memoirs come with the ethical imperative (implicit if it is not overtly stated) that the reader and the world need to transform themselves if they are to better integrate those reflecting the image of the trans life as well as to save themselves from the sins of sexism and transphobia. In other words, whether they state a moral or thesis, many trans memoirs today compel the same ethical changes in a reader's life as trans hagiographies must have medieval readers. Furthermore, an often unstated or understated goal of trans memoirs (or any memoir) is to garner a certain level of vindication, understanding, and even fame for its subject. Just as the trans saint functions as a generic image of a population calling for social change, the memoir also presents the image of a particular person. The effect of becoming familiar with the person, learning their story, and the oppressions they faced has the effect of making that person special in the mind the of the reader. That the memoir would be written, circulated, and read is honor enough for many. Yet an effective memoir, like an effective hagiography, draws readers to regard the subject life as set apart and significant if not an ethical role model. Yet even if the subject of the memoir does not offer ideals, they may yet be a guide for readers experiencing or seeking to understand and oppose the challenges faced by the particular trans person. In this way, trans memoirs resist the modern binary of saint and sinner. Medieval saints could be both and so too their modern counterparts.

Toward the end of examining trans hagiographies in a modern form and context, I will close read Dylan Scholinski's The Last Time I Wore a Dress. The memoir recounts the years the author spent incarcerated against his will in a mental hospital, in large part because of a diagnosis of Gender Identity Disorder. The book details the extreme lengths the hospital enacted in order to erase the Imago Transvesti from the young trans boy and inscribe the Imago Mundi, the image of a normative heterosexual cisgender girl. An additional reason for this study comes from a shared personal context. The town that Scholinski grew up in and the hospitals in which he was incarcerated exist within the same Polish community in which I lived. Just outside of Chicago, Scholinski was a transgender teen a number of years before me, yet if he had been allowed to receive public education it would have been entirely possible that we may have graduated from the same high school.  In many ways, the life of Dylan Scholinski recalled in the memoir reveals an alternative image of how my life may have developed. The particulars of his life draw sharp distinctions between us, yet this ability to see parts of one's self reflected in the Imago Transvesti of another is a function of the trans memoir and hagiography. Just as the cloister of Saint Marinos reveals something about the medieval Imago Dei and Mundi, so too mental hospital of Dylan Scholinski reveal much about the image of transgender and normativity in our world. In order to better understand these images, this examination will occur in two parts in order to counterpoint the study of Saint Marinos's medieval hagiography. First, I will examine how the memoir presents the conflict between his Imago Transvesti (as a particular form of the Imago Dei inscribed in his "soul") and the Imago Mundi of the hospital. In the second part, I will attend to the relations and habits formed between Scholinski and another mental patient who believes that he is Jesus Christ. The practices of alliance formed between the patient who acts too much like a man and the patient who acts too much like Christ form a secular, mad, modern form of the Imitatio Chrisit. 

To begin, it is necessary to understand that images are not always visible with and through the eyes but can be constructed and consumed through a variety of media, including narrative. The Imago Mundi that is imposed on transgender youths is just as varied as the Imago Transvesti it is supposed to replace. Just as the Imago Dei is supposed to be present in every human life and yet each life is distinct and ever changing, there is something diverse and dynamic about images. The Imago here concerned are moving images. In this respect, narrative may be better at capturing the living Imago Mundi than static photographs. Thus, without needing to give photographs or fixed details, Scholinski is able to communicate what the Imago Mundi was for him and how it was imposed on his trans life in the mental hospital. "Every morning I lowered my eyelids and let Donna make me up," he recalls. "If I didn't emerge from my room with foundation, lip gloss, blush, mascara, eyeliner, eye shadow and feathered hair, I lost points. Without points I couldn't go to the dining room, I couldn't go anywhere, not that we were going many places to begin with. Without points, I was not allowed to walk from the classroom back to the unite without an escort.... Either choice I hated: makeup, or a man trailing in my shadow" (IX). From the memoir, readers are not given a specific image of girlhood being forced onto his body, yet by listing the tools of inscription a generic image of cisgender femininity is invoked. The color of the lip gloss did not matter so much as the application of makeup. The Imago Mundi is more about the power of execution, the authority of the world to dictate how his gender is embodied more than any specific feature. The point system emphasizes the abstraction of the Imago Mundi as a value structure to be inscribed and imposed. Just as there may be many varieties of transgender saints within the Imago Transvesti, the Imago Mundi which opposes it is able to transcend time period and gender norm as a force of marginalization that at one moment sends one youth to a monastery and at another moment sends another to a mental hospital.


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Images of the World

Icons of saints are set apart because they are Imago Dei and not merely images of the world. The transformations of appearance in many hagiographies show audiences how divine truth can exist just on the edge of what the world can see, on the horizon of understanding, or just beneath the mundane. While transgender transitions are often imagines by the public as a form of disguise or drag, covering up the identity of the person, for trans saints this transvestism, the Imago Transvesti, reveal in visible ways what society has long covered with its own designs. Scholinski recalls looking at himself done up in the mirror of the mental hospital where he was held and forced into feminine clothes against his will. "I stared in the mirror at the girl who was me, and not me: the girl I was supposed to be" Scholinski writes(IX). The mirror scene is a traditional mechanism of transgender film, art, and narrative to show disjunctures between the outside and inside. The duplication of the images represents competing images of the trans person themselves. Which will win out? The image the world sees or the image inside the trans person, written, as Scholinski describes, in their soul? "The staff was under orders to scrutinize my femininity: the way I walked, the way I sat with my ankle on my knee, the clothes I wore, the way I kept my hair. Trivial matters, one might say. But trivial matters in which the soul reveals itself," Scholinski writes. "Try changing these things. Try it. Wear an outfit that is utterly foreign to you... See how far you can contradict your nature. Feel how your soul rebels" (IX-X). As in a mirror, one image faces off with another. Another critique waged against trans persons, especially transvestites, is that they are too changeable. Yet Scholinski's resistance to the gender forced on him demonstrates that his soul is fixed even while his body changes. The Imago Dei is made of things unchanging if unseen while the image of the world is mutable if empirical. 

When society cannot dig out the transgender soul, it suffices to control the person's embodiment down to the skin. Scholinski recalls that when he was first brought against his will to the asylum, he was forced to strip off his clothes. "A clerk went through every pocket of every pair of my torn-up jeans, unrolled the cuffs of my socks, put her hand in the silky lining of my suitcase," Scholinski records. "I'm certain I had to take off all my clothes down to my bra and underwear" (7). Once inside the hospital, Scholinski's clothing and gender will be closely controlled by the medical staff. At the threshold to this isolation, the medical panopticon cuts through the layers of the identity that Scholinski had built for himself. When social construction is reduced to systems, the creative work and agency of the trans life (and its Creator) can be take out of the equation. The trans person is imagined as only a social construct, without its own internal choice or image. Trying to control the changes of the the trans life, the medical hospital works to strip Scholinski down to the core and then rebuild. The system excuses this extreme invasion of the trans person's body on the grounds of healing. They claim to seek out unhealthy or toxic elements on the body (drugs, weapons, contraband) in order to exert changes in the body (behavior, mindsets, beliefs) because of the danger the trans person poses to trans exclusive society. By reaching down toward the transgender soul, the medical system turns the trans life into an embodiment of a disease to be quarantined and set aside from the general population (thereby justifying the systems existence and force); the negative or inverse images of cis society. 

Altering the visual image of the trans person is not enough, systems construct narratives that turn them either into a sinner or a saint. In medical systems, sin as a spiritual disease (an illness of the psyche, or soul) is replaced by the diagnosis of a physical or mental disease. For many trans persons, such as Scholinski, their lives were pathologized and seized through the imposition of a diagnosis for Gender Identity Disorder. After being processed, reclothed and given a room wherein he will be kept, the doctors begin in on Scholinski to tell him the medical justifications for his isolation. "[The Doctor] said the other diagnosis was something called Gender Identity Disorder... He said that means you are not an appropriate female, you don't act the way a female is supposed to act," recalls Scholinski (16). The "supposed to" here reflects an implicit command in society that the medical system here makes explicit. Instead of religious commandments, "thou shall" or thou shall not," which are supposed to have divine authority and authorship, medical discourses follow social assumptions and norms without easily definable origins. Often, cis society defined itself by how it set apart and controlled trans society as its negative image. Cisgender became not-transgender. Scholinski was not affirmed as a trans man but as a "not... appropriate female." The invisible truth of the transgender soul or image is recast from a thing unseen into an embodiment of negativity. Transgender is treated as the dis- to the cisgender's -order. Without context or narrative, Scholinski's trans life would not be recognizably diseased. Yet forced within the discursive and physical frame of medical institutions, Imago Transvesti are set apart as a dangerous alternative to the ruling image of the world.

In the negative construction of the Imago Transvesti, environments, narratives, and images work together to set apart trans lives. Scholinski recalls what may one of the earliest moments that an authority told him that he embodied the wrong picture of himself. The moment occurred when an educator brought Scholinski aside in school and ran through ideas of what professions he might like to have one day. "She held up cards with pictures of a policeman, a farmer, a construction worker, a secretary and a nurse, and said which ones I'd like to be: police officer and construction worker. She looked at me with a curious face like a mother robin. She was the first one who said I had a problem with my gender" (30). Likely, the genitals of the images are not visible yet the gender of the figures are supposed to be apparent. Police are supposed to look like men. The nurses are supposed to look like women. In turn, these socially dictated images are supposed to reproduce themselves. Implicitly, a girl sees an image of a female secretary and so becomes a secretary. The oppressed can be an instrument of enacting an oppressive system. A mother robin works to create a little robin, even if both will remain caged. Yet Scholinski was not only choosing jobs considered "inappropriate" for women but positions "inappropriate" for any marginalized person. Police officers enforce the law, enacting the power of systems on society. Construction works on the other hand enact the literal power to shape the image of the world. What would the world look like is women were in charge of the legal and physical structures of the world? What would it look like is transgender persons could claim that authority? Or intersex or disabled persons? Evidently, by choosing images other than those assigned to him, Scholinski is following another image, an alternative image, an Imago Transvesti that may be an "inappropriate," disordered, and problematic choice. In the end, Scholinski will be isolated and set aside because of following these Imago and not the image of the world.

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Set Apart

Isolation is no safe haven for the trans saint. The exclusionary system of the cisgender binary allows for no mixtures and movements between categories. Expelled from one space by choice or force, trans saints are often not allowed entrance into the other. As a result, trans persons medieval and modern often find themselves caught between chairs, homeless. This sense of homelessness began for Scholinski early in his life, when he was shopping with his father and needed to use the restroom. "On the door it said: WOMEN," recalls Scholinski. One his way out however, he encountered trouble, "a balding clerk with wet produce stains on his apron gave me a look of raw hatred. He grabbed my hand. He wanted me to know who my parents were and I said my father was in the aisle. We looked down each one until we saw him pausing before the cereal. The clerk hauled me over and said, ' We found your son in the women's bathroom.' My father said calmly, 'That's not my son.'" (106). While he was sent to the mental hospital in part to make him accept his place as a woman, spaces for women were often not safe for Scholinski. His presence and performance of identity alienated him from women's spaces. Yet neither was he accepted as a man among men. It is true enough for his father to say, "that's not my son," yet his actions in committing the child to a mental hospital was enough to say, "this is not my daughter." Trans youth often find themselves placed in the dangerous no-man's-land by the enforcement of gender binaries in spaces like bathrooms. Here the privacy of cisgender persons is protected not by merely isolating trans persons but by ensuring that they don't have even the same privacies to relieve themselves in peace. In other moments, Scholinski recalls going to and being assaulted in a bathroom, "a group of them followed me in and said 'are you sure you're a girl?' Sitting in the stall I waited until the laughing stop and I heard the door close behind them" (106). These acts may seem like the innocent misunderstandings of a Clerk or a few youths but they reflect a wider systemic oppression of trans persons. The pressure put on the Imago Transvesti will not release until no space is left free from the mark of the Imago Mundi. Trans saints are made to be set apart for a special place in the tapestry in Creation but as an excluded and erased smudge that is at home no place.

There is no place in Imago Mundi for the Imago Transvesti. Rejected from communion with his family, school, or wider neighborhood, Scholinski finds himself at the medical hospital without any other place to call his own. When Scholinski first arrives, he insists to a member of the staff that the asylum is no home for him either. "I told her I didn't need to be here. 'Uh-huh,' she said" (13). The response is sarcastic, a dismissive reply to crazy person who does not know they are crazy. Yet it is also ironically true. This hospital will not be a home for him. Recording various observations of various medical staff during his time in the care of the hospital, one doctor observes, "Patient has no sense of home" (35). The young trans man has a residence. He dwells -against his will- in asylums for several years. Yet this place of isolation is a physical embodiment of his marginalization and separation from the world. This is a place he is set apart and not merely set somewhere else. He is sainted not by becoming an exemplar of acceptable norms but by being unacceptable. If the trans man makes sense, this meaning and orientation is not of this world. Indeed, the function of the medical isolation is in part to ensure that the trans man does not become at home. When Scholinski is moved to another hospital, he finds that he is again being disoriented through his gender as he is placed (as a girl) among a male-only unit. "All other units were co-ed, a mix of psychotics, violent types and regular depressed people," Scholinski explains, "so there was no reason to throw me into the all-male unit, they could have shifted a depressed boy around. I suppose they thought throwing me to the boys would encourage my girly-girl side" (138). The move is supposed to shock him, emphasize his girlhood and thereby reorient him towards men in a sexuality and not gender identity. While Scholinski was able to form an alternative community in his last hospital, this move is intended to further throw him off his center. In this way, the memoir emphasizes the sainting of the trans youth by showing how the world continually functions to displace him, set him further aside until he comes to embody that sainthood.

The crux that many saints face is what to do when there is no place in the world exists for them and the image of another world remains unclear or uncertain. Too often, escape from the isolation the world imposes on trans life is death. Scholinski recalls how the medical process of chipping at his Imago Transvesti layer by layer changed his appearance but made him a soul with no life left in body. "My new self was pleasing. My new self: girly-girl dead stranger" (120). The image of the girl being fashioned was not only an artificial construct, it was an unlivable life. Rather than embrace a trans image of life, the medical staff preferred instead to turn Scholinski into an image of cis girlhood even if it killed him. The face of a girl was for the trans man the face of the dead. One way or another, liberation or isolation, transition or death, the girl in the mirror was no long for the world. Leaving nowhere left to run in the world or in himself, Scholinski considered suicide the final option. Better death than an unlivable life. Yet this final act of self agency, this final corner where the medical staff could not get at him, death, was painted for the trans man as an unfair rejection of the world. "Suicide is a selfish act," said one of the medical staff after Scholinski's suicide attempt, "Do you know that?" (73). In a place where no personal decisions (that did not follow the medical systems guidelines) was considered selfish and aberent it is not surprising that suicide would be among those personal decisions that the staff condemned. For a system only concerned with the appearance and mechanical functions of life, an unlivable cis girlhood was preferable to escape by death. Ironically, such condemnation and how it was responded to only served to demonstrate how this "selfishness" and isolation was in fact constructed by the medical environment. After being chastized for his suicide attempt, Scholinski was brought into a private room to think about what he had done. "Why the hospital would lock me in a room by myself when I felt so sad I wanted to die, I don't know" writes Scholinski (73). By leaving the suicide alone in a room after his attempt, the statement is made: you cannot escape even by death. The temptation to try again is teased and yet thwarted by the stark reminder of the  recent failure. The lesson is made: life and suicide both lead to isolation. Without escape all that is left is submission.

The mechanisms of mental hospitals not only inscribe the Imago Mundi over the visible Imago Transvesti but carve itself into the inner life of the trans saint. While the hospital could and would regulate his outward appearance, Scholinski protected his inner life and truth as his final holdout. "I like to be in control," admits Scholinski, "to keep what was inside my brain inside. It was the only form of privacy I had left" (85). While the hospital insisted that he embody to image of femininity and a sexual orientation toward men, in his mind he maintained the Imago Transvesti as a hidden truth as well as meditate to himself, particularly in his journal, about his experienced attractions to girls in the hospital. This tactic worked for some time, or seemed to work, until one day Scholinski found that even in isolation he was not free. The doctor called the young trans man into the office and discussed with him details of his "disordered" feelings toward women, encouraging him to instead adopt a heteronormative relationship with men. That is when Scholinski realized, "They had read my journal" (98). While in isolation after his suicide attempt, it seemed as though being alone was the final line for the treatment. If he could submit to being a trans saint, set apart because of his diagnosed pathology, then in that sacred cloister he could be free. The trans life of the Imago Transvesti could survive if only within a small hidden frame. Yet this was to be. The World is a jealous God and will permit idols to no other. Over the course of years, Scholinski survives the isolation and treatments of his forced incarceration. Yet when the time comes for him to leave the physical walls behind (coinciding with his approaching legal adulthood) the test of the Imago Mundi was whether it could function to isolate and control Scholinski when he was on his own.  "No one was watching me. Nine months of survellience: I'd survived seclusion, I'd hugged the males, I'd walked around with globs of blue on my eyelids, and now I was here" (127). For years afterwards, Scholinski recalled feeling the eyes on the back of his neck and an inscribed sense of shame that kept him from fully living out and showing his Imago Transvesti. He experienced depression and relapses into suicidal thought. Yet as he carried with him the chains of the mental hospital, practices of liberation and creation developed within the asylum helped him finally break free and reclaim an authentic image of his life - an Imitatio Transvesti built upon a queer and mad Imitatio Christi.


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Coming soon:
Part II: Imitatio Christi in the Last Time I Wore a Dress
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Friday, August 19, 2016

Transgender Saints: The Imago Dei of St. Marinos the Monk


“The one who saves the soul 
is like the one who created it

Life of Saint Marinos
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Imago Dei

One is not born a transgender saint, one must be created. A look at iconography of trans saints such as St. Marinos the Monk evidences a divinely inspired life that challenged the limits of the world in which is grew and the limits of its own creation. Certain elements of the saint’s image are common to others who are marked in like ways as “set apart,” such as the long monk’s robes, suggesting an orientation away from the world, and a blazing halo behind him, suggesting an orientation towards God. Yet other elements of his image and story mark Imago Transvesti as a peculiar form of Imago Dei. St. Marinos is gender ambiguous. His contemporaries thought him an eunuch. Yet he also is shown supporting a child which he fathered by choice if not by birth. In this and many ways, the image of the trans saint announces a difference that is marvelous and sacred. These differences remain challenging to some as they are inspiring to countless others.

The Imageo Dei arouse in the Church from the scriptural assertion that the creatures of the world are made in the image of the Creator. In Genesis 1.27, God creates humanity, "et creavit Deus hominem ad imaginem suam ad imaginem Dei creavit illum masculum et feminam creavit eos" (So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them, NIV). For many trans, intersex, and non-binary persons, the Imago Dei of Genesis is used as a weapon against them by those who insist that divine intention is only reflect in the symmetry of cisgender men and women. Yet the scripture does not say that God created humanity in only one way or that God only created cisgender binary people. In the early Christian and medieval Church, the salvation story of the gospels and diverse saints lives testify that the work of creation and recreation is ongoing in a dynamic and diverse Imago Dei.

Of the trans hagiographies that reflect a wider envisioning of the Imago Dei, among the earliest and most influential accounts was that of St. Marinos the Monk. To keep close to the original text, the version of the life of St. Marinos analyzed here comes from Alice-Mary Talbot's translation of the Vita Antiqua, which Talbot claims, is "the version closest to the original Life of the sixth or seventh century " (Talbot). Given the difficulty with setting an exact date shows its wide range of influence. Time and time again, the transgender Imageo Dei narrated in trans hagiography continues to be craved by a society that continually slips back into a fixed and reductive vision of creation as cis male and female. A significant feature of the Vita Antiqua’s Marinos is that it contains culturally rich and theologically instructive dialog not found in some later condensed versions. As Talbot describes, "The anonymous author writes in a simple and vivid style, making extensive use of dialogue and omitting the characteristic prooimion."

Out of this near original version's dialog, comes not only an image of a trans saint but through him to the God that created him as an Imago Dei. When Marino's father tells him that he cannot enter the monastery because he is not a cisgender man, he responds that his soul is on the line in this matter and that the making of Marinos as a man of God is like God's making of Marinos the man, “The one who saves the soul is like the one who created it.” Who is the one who made Marinos into the saint he is? Who is the one who saves Marinos? I argue that the narrative offers answers nestled in one image: the Imago Transvesti. In this short essay, I unpack the Imago Dei of St. Marinos by focusing first on how the marginalization of the saint contrasts with the worlds sexist and transphic reduction of gender’s diversity, then how the transition of the saint as an act of salvation that embodies the creative, transformational, and reforming image of the Creator.

Early Christian concepts of Imago Dei affirm a diverse and dynamic Creation. A contemporary treatise on Imago Dei is found in "De Trinitatae,” by Augustine of Hippo from the fifth century would still have been in circulation by the time of Marinos. In it, Augustine argues that creation begins as a seed within each soul. Life, Augustine writes, “if it is made after the image of God … then from the moment when that nature so marvelous and so great began to be, whether this image be so worn out as to be almost none at all, or whether it be obscure and defaced, or bright and beautiful, certainly it always is.” Often one’s Imago Dei is hidden, yet as that person grows it is revealed. The process of constructing the self, then, can be a co-creative act of affirming the Imago Dei. Augustine writes, “in the soul of man, i.e. the rational or intellectual soul, [is] that image of the Creator.” From a seed, this Imago Dei is not actualized from birth but is revealed when each person affirms the special (set apart/sacred) Reason of their creation.

Granting the Imago Dei as an act of creation and not merely a set of created things it is easier t understand how Imago Tranvesti arouse within Trans Hagiography as testament to the divinely reasoned diversity and dynamism within God’s creation. Indeed, within an Augustinian Imago Dei and Marinian Imago Transvesti, marginalization and transition function to affirm the holy creation of one’s life in contrast to worldly designs. In later discussions, the work of Imago Tramsvesti on the world itself, in resisting and changing systems of gender will be explored as a form of Imitatio Christi, what I call the Imitatio Transvesti. As liberation theologian Thomas Reynolds affirms this in his book, Vulnerable Communion, “The Imago Dei is a Imitatio Dei.” To be an image is both to reflect the substance of the reflected but also the action. Imago Transvesti embodies that sacred dynamism that continually grows and challenges the limits of creation’s seedlings.

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Saints: Those Set Apart

As embodiment of Imago Dei, trans saints offer alternatives to a patriarchal cisgender society that divides, reduces, and constrains God’s dynamic creation. A core power within hagiography as writing about holiness is that sacredness shows the flaws of the world through the contrast of divine differences. In "The Centrality of Margins," Amy Ogden argues that the Imago Dei of saints, including the Imago Transvesti, are framed the margins, marking them as set apart. The saint, Ogden writes, "calls attention to the profoundly marginal identity of all saints: from a terrestrial, political standpoint, their behavior relegates them to the edges of society, while from a spiritual perspective, it locates their identity in the overlap between the human and the divine" (Ogden 8). By persevering through cis models of embodiment and oppression, trans saints offer an image of God’s sacred otherness, an alternative way of life that resists a damaging world

The problem of the world is presented and represented by Marinos's father. The retired man he tells his child that he must go to a monastery to become a monk. Rejecting his worldly life, the father gives it to his child. “My child," says the father, "behold, all that I own I place in your hands, for I am departing in order to save my soul.” The transfer of possessions is likely meant to be a gift. The child will be orphaned but will be cared for by the remnants of the father's inheritance. The circumstance of many trans youth follow just such a similar narrative. The older generations maintain a world full of sexism, homophobia, patriarchies, transphobia, and gender binaries which at a certain age they may condemn but nonetheless despair of changing. Something about the world he regards as impeding his spiritual life. He rejects the sin (the spiritual distance from God) and gives it to the child. As a result, younger generations inherit the sins of the father.

As a savvy trans youth, Marinos is aware that the world he inherits will lead to his destruction and calls out his father for leaving him such a burden. Turning the exchange back on his father, Marinos calls out the gift for what it is. “Father," says Marinos, "do you wish to save your own soul and see mine destroyed?" The father is eschewing the gender of the world for a gender set apart. The child, likewise wants to eschew the gender the world assigned and accept a gender set apart. If the worldly gender is not good enough for the father, why for the child? The trans saints life is a mirror for the father to see how he only continues on a lineage of destructive systems, an inheritance of sexism and transphobia. The trans saint's life serves as a mirror for all readers to contemplate. Too often, social justice movements allow one marginalized group to escape from its system of oppression while leaving other populations (even former allies) at risk.

As an Imago Dei, the destruction of the Imago Transvesti has grave repercussions. In Marinos's Christian context, to be prevented from transitioning to a spiritual life as a monk is to risk the natural as well as the supernatural death of the transgender soul. The sins of the patriarchy work to keep him tethered to it: the reduction of sexual diversity to a gender binary, the reduction of gender to genitals and procreative ability, and the social limits that inhibit the reassignment of gender. To bring the trans child into the monastery as a monk is to be like the Good Shepherd of scripture. "Do you not know what the Lord says?" Marinos asks his father. "That the good shepherd giveth his life for his sheep?” There are dangers in allowing Marinos to transition but the risks are necessary if the father is to save his child. Put another way, Marinos is asking, "would you rather have a dead and damned daughter or a living son?" Or again, "is it not worth the risk accepting your sons transition if that is what saves not only his life but also his soul?"

The patriarch’s worries are continued by the monastery’s superior when he ejects Marinos from the community, following accusations of impregnating a local girl. When questioned, Marinos confesses to the patriarch, “Forgive me, father, for I have sinned as a man.” Readers know that Marinos does not have the genitals to impregnate the woman but the monk decides that protecting his manhood from question is more important than divulging truths that would prove him innocent. The Father hears Marinos saying that "as a man" he has sinned in impregnating the woman, while Marinos means that he has sinned by not being fully forthright in what way he exists, "as a man." Misunderstanding and sexual misconduct causes trouble for Marinos. The one corporate sin extends from another. If not for conventions of prejudice against trans men and women, Marinos would not be in trouble. In this critical way, the Vita tells Marinos that for the Trans Saint there may not be any home for them in a sexist world with so few positive images.

In various ways, the trans saint is marked to continually face off against worldly sins of sexism and transphobia. Hotchkins identifies the repeating feature of the trans saint’s battle between center and margins, "elements of flight, disguise, calumny, and dramatic anagnorisis” (15). As an imago Dei, the trans saint of hagiography embodies a divine model that will continually contrast the concerns of the world. Yet hagiography does not merely mark these differences and conflict but turns them into positive meaning. If, as Hotchkiss writes, "transvestite saints reveal much about gender definitions and cultural biases based on gender," then trans saints also embody an alternative vision of gender that stands in sacred contrast to the sexist and transphobic systems of the world (16). In other words, the Imago Transvesti uses the margins that frame it in order to highlight the powerful message of personal and social transformation it embodies.


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Becoming a Monk

Imago Transvesti is an image of transition as a form of becoming Christian. In the Middle Ages, Christian salvation focused on introducing radical changes into individual and collective lives in order to bring out the hidden Imago Dei in creation. Especially for transvestites, the transgender affirming processes focused on clothing recreates many of the central elements of baptism. In “Crossed Texts, Crossed Sex,” Stephan Davis writes, "the act of changing garments evokes… the Pauline baptismal formula of Galatians 3.27-28: 'As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ " (Davis). While God makes all people Imago Dei, the baptism ceremony acknowledges that the life the world assigns is not the one God intends for it. Much as how many trans persons assert that sex change processes are in fact gender affirmation, changing clothes, therefore, is a transformation that is also a reformation of imago transvesti and imago dei.

The Image of God and Gods image of the trans saint is not always readily visible to the world. Arriving at one's authentic self often involves battling the gender divides and demands of a cisgender world. A monastery is a location that divides men and women from one another, even certain kind of men from other kinds of men: monks. Affirming monastic exclusivity, Marinos's father asks, “Child, what am I to do with you? You are a female, and I desire to enter a monastery. How then can you remain with me?" Calling Marinos his child, he begins by affirming their familial bonds, yet ends with the implicit rejection of this bond once he enters the monastery. A father cannot be a father when he is a monk and Marinos will not be welcome. This is a bit of dramatic irony, a thesis that the Vita will argue against. Marinos will prove that he can be accepted as this exclusive form of man, a monk, and as another form of man, a father.

Before gender reassignment moves forward, Marinos must reframe the problem from one of body to one of relation. Reflecting a patriarchal anti-trans, anti-woman bias, Marinos's decries, “it is through the members of your sex that the devil wages war on the servants of God.” While the life of a man, especially an abstinent monk, has very little to do with genitalia, they are devices through which cisgender exclusivity is enacted. The patriarch ignores the way in which his child would use his body, treating him as a passive object for another's agency. The devil wages a war and Marinos is merely a medium. Following Aristotle's theory of sex, the patriarch treats women's genitals as instrumental substances on which active male genitals asserts form. Marinos does is not expected to have agency, consent, or control over his genitals. By insisting on this powerlessness, he is once again asserting his role as a member of the patriarchy to define Marinos's gender.

Marinos responds that changing his genre of embodiment is much easier if one focuses on the more relevant parts of the body and eschew concerns over the genitals. "I shall first cut off the hair of my head, and clothe myself like a man," he says. There are differences in the culturally defined genres of medieval manhood and womanhood. There were styles of hair coded masculine and those coded feminine. Even among men, monks wore their hair differently than other men. Yet hair is changeable. Therefore, gender is changeable, not only in society but in the body. One can change the body to change how society treats that body. Agency is reclaimed by the body that is revalued by the patriarchy. Following a tradition of feminist thought, Judith Butler insists that one is not born a woman but becomes a woman. Likewise, in medieval monastic culture, one is not born a monk but becomes a monk. Rejects cis assumption that gender is unchanging, Marinos declares he will be able to "enter the monastery with you" and become a monk.

In fact, the subtle differences in Marinos's body are well within the diversity of medieval masculinity. "After she lived thus for a few years in the monastery," records the Vita, "[they] considered her to be a eunuch, for she was beardless and of delicate voice." Because of their respective inability to impregnate a woman unaided by modern science, a medieval trans man and eunuch are effectively abstinent from this kind of reproduction; while both may engage in sexual acts. In the end, the monastery not only accepts Marinos as a man but regards the trans man as exemplary. Many regarded the particularities of his trans monkhood as a natural extend of monkhood, "the result of her great asceticism." Being a monk or eunuch is not a masculinity into which one is born. All are men set apart artificially to become a new kind of men. "Day by day, the child advanced in all the virtues, in obedience, in humility, and in much asceticism," the Vita records. A tran monk knows, perhaps more than most, that one is not born a monk but become a monk.

To conclude, the image of God in the Imago Transvesti is a reformation of a divine image through sacred transitions marked by the changing of clothes. By setting aside the clothes and habit of a woman, then taking on the monk’s robes, Marinos not only is affirmed as a man but a sainted Christian. As image of early Christianity, the trans saint embodied the radical changes to which all Christians are called. "The Pauline metaphor appears to have been incorporated into the earliest baptismal ceremonies," writes Valerie Hotchkiss in Clothes Make the Man, "in the removal of clothing and, after immersion, the putting on of new white robes…. The initiate is described as transformed, reborn, and united with Christ." An escape from the worldly constraints of womanhood, ends for Marinos in being reborn as an exemplary man of Christ. As an image framed by margins, Imago Transvesti is nonetheless central to a medieval image of God’s creation.


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