She’s Pretty Smart for a Girl
The Story of Katherine of Alexandria Part 1
In my last installment of saints’ stories, we learned why the saints' lives offer something to all of us. Read that post, [here].
Introduction
Jesus, closing his story, pauses for theatrical tension, then looks up to the audience and asks, “Which man acted like a neighbor to the poor injured wretch?” Waiting for their answer, the Master Storyteller cracks a smile when he sees their eyes widen in response to the truth bomb he dropped in their laps. Jesus taught important theological concepts through narrative. Made-up people doing made-up things to teach real lessons. I like to imagine Jesus sitting by a campfire telling a parable with the kind of flourish and drama that would impress a Dungeon Head (my children tell me this term refers to a lover of Dungeons & Dragons, but they also revel in making fun of me—so keep that in mind).
Meet Jacobus de Voragine, parable slinger from 1260, who compiled saints’ stories into a volume called The Golden Legend. His tales, power-packed with all the lore surrounding the saints, captured his audience’s imagination. Audiences would gather, maybe around a campfire, to hear him bring the saints to life.
I can hear you saying, “Folklore and fantasy stories have no place in Christianity, and I stopped listening to you at ‘Dungeons and Dragons’ because I don’t listen to witches.” I get it, and I share your desire to avoid occult practices that cause us to stumble into the devil’s grip. But don’t we love Tolkien and C.S. Lewis? Their “fantasy genre” stories have encouraged millions of Christians. I don’t see anyone preparing pyres to roast their fans.
Have you stumbled into a conversation about the lore surrounding The Lord of the Rings with a Tolkien Head? He/she would step over your burning body if they could jump into a debate with the person standing behind you over Glorfindel being from Gondolin, not Rivendell, and has the power of returning from death as a Maia-level being, not just being some random elf with good hair. From those words linked together that spilled out of the mind of an actual human I know, you can appreciate how lore engages the imagination. So, kick back and read my book report on Voragine’s version of what made our girl Katherine a saint.1
Smart for a Girl
We begin in Alexandria, Egypt, where an aristocrat identifies an aptitude for learning in his young daughter and opens the doors of academia for her (a round of applause for a dad who educates his daughter). Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria and beloved early church father, offers her a desk in his classroom. Katherine excels in philosophy and science. Delighting in her wisdom, her father gladly leaves all his holdings and his position in the aristocracy to Katherine. Her intelligence makes maintaining her place in the aristocracy and running the household easy as finding olive oil in Rome. She’s killing it. However, her mother and uncle dislike her leading without a husband.
All of Katherine’s life goals, New Year’s Resolutions, and mood boards exclude “Marriage.” Her family refuses to let it drop, so she’s like, “Fine! Let's make a deal.” She hands them a list of qualities and, if they find a man who measures up, she’ll take the plunge. Did you ever make a list of all the qualities you wanted in a high school boyfriend? Mine consisted of: he must play basketball on the varsity team (no JV guys), he must have a car, he must wear Stüssy shirts and baggy jeans, he must love Salt n Peppa and the Spin Doctors, he must want to watch Cool Runnings all the time, he only wants to do what I want to do, and loves to talk on the phone for six hours everyday. Katherine lists more mature and profitable character traits.
“For he that shall be lord of mine heart and mine husband shall have the four notable things in him over all measure; to such an extent that all creatures shall have need of him, and he needeth none. And he that shall be my lord must be of so noble blood that all men shall do to him worship, and therewith so great a lord that I shall never think that I made him a king, and so rich that he pass all others in riches. And so full of beauty that angels have joy to behold him, and so pure that his mother be a virgin. And so meek and benign that he can gladly forgive all offences done unto him. Now I have described to you him that I will have and desire to my lord and to my husband, go ye and seek him, and if ye can find such an one, I will be his wife with all mine heart, vouchsafe to have me. And finally, but if ye find such an one I shall never take none, and take this for a final answer.”
Voragine wrote this story in Latin, so the translation’s tough. Like Inigo Montoya told Westley, “Let me sum up.” She lists four qualities:
He needs no one, but everyone needs him.
Noble blood so important that everyone worships him, and no one thinks his importance comes from her wealth.
So full of beauty that angels love to see him and pureness only found in one born of a virgin.
So meek and benign that he can happily forgive all offences people commit against him.
Raise your hand if you see it! Our girl just described Jesus. No regular dude would measure up. Her intelligence led her to an understanding of her need for a savior outside of the salvation offered through a human husband. (Husbands can’t fill that hole, ask me how I know. Not throwing shade at mine, he’d tell you the same thing.)
Scene Shift
A monastery comes into view. A devoted hermit named Adrian goes about his hermit business of serving God. Poof! The Virgin Mary appears to him. He bows in awe and praises her. Mary’s like, “Cool, cool, cool, I need you to go to Alexandria and visit Katherine, who wants to pledge herself to Jesus.” He’s like, “Katherine the aristocrat? They’ll kill me before I even get into the courts.” Mary says to the hermit turned Jedi, “Go! You have Jesus with you.”
Adrian approaches the guards and, in his best impression of Obi-Wan Kenobi, he says, “I’m not the hermit you’ve been looking for.” He makes it to Katherine unscathed. In arguably the easiest evangelistic mission ever, he delivers the gospel to her, and she commits her life to Jesus.
First order of business? Back to the monastery for baptism, consecration, and training. Katherine’s got all these brains for a reason. She jumps on the accelerated “Paul speed of education” track, and in ten days she’s out preaching and converting people from Roman worship to the God of creation. (Did you catch that? Our boy Voragine uses the word preaching to describe Katherine’s actions. The p-word currently used only for men. For now.)
She senses Jesus guiding her back home. She returns and shares the message of God with all who will listen. She converts her whole household to God. She lives generously, shows love to all, and provides a peaceful setting for people to thrive. Until a new neighbor moves in. Did you hear the music change in this scene from jaunty tune to minor chords? You guessed it—a new Jackwagon has entered the chat. Introducing Maxentius, the Roman official who rides into town demanding everyone worship his pagan gods or jump into the town bonfire in the role of kindling. Maxentius shall henceforth be called “Mini-man.”
The Debate
Mini-man rounds up the Christians, tells them to worship the Roman idols, and throws them into the flames when they don’t. Bing, bang, boom, no muss, no fuss. The scene playing out rips Katherine’s heart out. She prays and hot tears stream down her face for the murdered Christians. What can she do to save these loved ones? Wait, she’s not a member of the aristocracy for nothing! She wipes her face and marches up to his court to demand an audience with Mini-man. I guess she missed the ladies’ Bible study on Esther’s submission to authority. She runs circles around Mini-man’s mini brain. She demands he stop murdering everyone, give up his pagan gods, and give his life to the true God. She stands firm and anticipates his response. He’s like, “Yeah, I got nothing.” He cannot stand that a girl made him look dumb, so he calls in backup.
He rounds up fifty of his most intelligent philosophers to debate with Katherine. He wants to un-alive her but, given her position in the aristocracy and how her converts love her, he couldn’t just kill her. That might result in his arrest. He thinks that his philosophers will make her look like an idiot. He’s like, “Guy’s, the force is strong with this one, give her all you got,” and settles in for a good ole debate day.
Mini-man's mouth hangs open watching a woman—who should only think of ways to please a man—go toe to toe with the smartest philosophers in the region. Like Paul, centuries earlier, marching into the Areopagus looking for a debate, Katherine’s like, “I got it.” Our girl reasons and argues with the philosophers to the point that they denounce the Roman worship of idols and give their lives to God.
This woman! I love her so much. God, please give us the intelligence and confidence of Katherine!
With fifty Roman philosophers on his hands who converted away from idol worship, Mini-man stands there all red-faced and fuming. You’d think that kind of conversion rate would break through his hard heart. No, not Mini-man. He throws them into the fire where he keeps his Christians. In fear, the philosophers look at Katherine. She tells them about the newly converted thieves crucified next to Jesus and how Jesus promised that the thieves would experience paradise that day, and that promise extends to newly converted philosophers also. Tears overflow her eyes again while witnessing their murder, but she stands firm in her faith.
She’s got Brains and Brawn
The math ain’t mathing for Mini-man. Counting on all fingers and toes, he cannot figure out how this woman’s intellect just lost him his philosopher squad. He snaps his fingers when the solution surfaces. Concubine! That’s what she’s after! He tells her she can have a house right next to his wife. But wait, there’s more. He offers her the newly opened position of philosopher. What an offer! Shocking only Mini-man, Katherine’s like, “We are never getting together, like ever.”
He’s raging because he’s never heard the word “no.” He commands the few guards he has left to beat Katherine with a scorpion (think cat-o’-nine-tails à la Jesus’s beating), and she clings to life while being dragged to jail.
Mini-man’s wife (yes, somehow, he secured a wife), worries about Katherine. The math maths for her. She heard the debate and witnessed the result. Nothing left to do but remove her “I’m with dummy” t-shirt she wears when she’s around Mini-man, then head to the jail that holds Katherine. She takes 200 Roman guards with her because who wants to run errands alone? Upon arrival, they witness God’s angels caring for and comforting Katherine. Awe and wonder fill them.
Knowing Mini-man possesses no redeeming qualities and fearing for Katherine's life, she begs our heroine to stand down. She doesn’t want this intelligent young woman to die in the grip of Mini-man. Lying on the floor trying to tough out her injuries, Katherine begins to talk to her. This observant woman, married to a madman, hears Katherine’s words and recognizes the truth in them. She abandons idol worship and turns to God. The guard, poking their heads around each other to get a good view and hear the conversation, also recognize the truth in Katherine’s words. Salvation trips along like a stream from one guard to the next until the whole retinue professes faith in God and denounces idol worship. In all, the Kingdom of God gained 201 new souls that night.
What will Mini-man do when he finds out he’s married to a Christian and his guards worship God? I’ll bet he’s pis#*@!
Come back next week to find out what happens!
Some say Catherine of Alexandria, some say Katherine of Alexandria. We are going with Katherine since Voragine did.