Saint Marinos argued with his dad. Maybe in the kitchen, Maybe in their front lawn, late afternoon fading into dusk. Somewhere in Lebanon, sometime between the fourth and eighth centuries.

His mom just died, and his dad decided to join a monastery and leave him with his considerable fortune, and find him and good and respectable husband. Saint Marinos was assigned female at birth, and his dad saw a good Christian girl who would make a good Christian wife.

“Father, you wish to save your own soul and leave mine to be lost?”

Saint Marinos was crying. He missed his mom. He was going to have to be married and live as a good and obedient wife. And as if that wasn’t enough, he was going to lose his dad too.

His dad tried to rationalize the situation, as dad’s so often do. “My child, what can I do for you since I wish to enter a monastery? And how is it possible for you to remain with me? For the devil uses you women to vex and trouble servants of God.”

But God is gentle and humble, and bigger than the patriarchal rationalizations of grieving dads.

And together, Saint Marinos and his dad came up with a solution: Marinos would go to the monastery and live life as a monk, never revealing the gender he was assigned at birth to anyone.

And they pulled off their plan swimmingly. They worshiped together and served God together in the monastery for the last ten years of Saint Marinos’ dad’s life. Some of the brothers suspected Saint Marinos was a eunuch. Other’s attributed his smooth face and soft voice to his immense piety and asceticism.

His perceived femininity was seen by the community as a sign of his devotion.

After his father died, Saint Marinos deepened his disciplines in order to receive a gift from God. God granted Saint Marinos the ability to heal sickness by laying hands on people. He lived a devout life with respect and trust in his community.

But secrets, even those kept for completely justifiable reasons, have a way of catching up with you.

Because he gained such respect in the community, the abbot asked him to do official monastery business out in the community at large. Him and a few brothers stayed at an inn, run by a man with a beautiful daughter. The daughter got pregnant by a soldier, who told her to blame the child on Saint Marinos.

The innkeeper was very angry. He stormed into the monastery, yelling and cursing at the abbot.

The abbot confronted Marinos about the incident, and he immediately took responsibility. He was kicked out of the monastery and begged outside the gates. The innkeeper found him, and flung his daughter’s child at him. Saint Marinos willingly adopted him. He began to beg for milk from local shepherds to make sure the baby had a healthy diet.

The other brothers always saw Marinos outside the monastery. They didn’t forget about him. They still loved their brother. So they petitioned to the abbot to let him back in. And the abbot said no.

And they said, if you don’t take him back, we’re leaving too.

So the abbot took Marinos back in, grudgingly. He couldn’t be losing all the members of his monastery. “I accept you back on account of your brothers’ love, though you are the least of all,” he said. The abbot continued to punish Saint Marinos for the rest of his life, making him do the most degrading chores around the monastery every day.

And Marinos, in his humility and devotion, did them willingly.

After a few years of this, Saint Marinos died. When the abbot found his body and realized he couldn’t have gotten the innkeeper’s daughter pregnant, he repented for making Saint Marinos suffer despite his righteousness.

Saint Marinos, pray for us. As your soft voice was viewed as a sign of great dedication to God, may we venerate the different ways gender shows up in our different bodies as signs of devotion to the Christ-light. May we form communities of love, support, and solidarity to leverage against oppressive religious figures and bring them to repentance like the brothers in your monastery did against the abbot for you.

May we, through Christ’s suffering and resurrection, use our own suffering to build up our chosen family, as you adopted a child through your ostracization.

Remind us that trans history in the church is ancient and breathing.

Pray for us, Saint Marinos.

*All direct quotes came from this sweet and quirky story of Saint Marinos’ life by medieval hagiographer Symeon Metaphrastes. https://www.johnsanidopoulos.com/2011/02/saint-mary-of-alexandria-also-known-as.html