This riveting exploration of a nearly lost first-century scripture tells the story of a courageous saint named Thecla and offers us a road map to knowing our worth.
“Meggan Watterson writes with a prophet’s vision and a mystic’s heart.”—Arianna Huffington, founder and CEO, Thrive Global
A teenage girl named Thecla is sitting at her bedroom window listening to a man share stories nearby. Her mother and fiancé order her to stop. But Thecla, trapped in a world that expects her to marry and have children, refuses. This man, Paul, is talking about a world she wants to believe an inner world of freedom to define her own life. And he’s talking about a kind of love she hasn’t known before—a love that asks her to be true to who she is within.
For Meggan Watterson, a Harvard-trained feminist theologian, Thecla’s story in The Acts of Paul and Thecla has everything to do with power. Thecla’s refusal to be controlled, as well as the authority she reclaims by baptizing herself, reads like a lost gospel for finding our own source of power within—a power that allows us to know who we are and to make choices based on that knowing. This hidden scripture suggests that Christianity before the fourth century was about defying the patriarchy, not deifying it. But early church fathers excluded The Acts of Paul and Thecla, along with other sacred texts such as The Gospel of Mary, from the New Testament.
Watterson synthesizes scripture, memoir, and politics to illuminate a story that has been left out of the canon for far too long, one that follows a girl freeing herself from a life predicated on the expectations of others—a path that made her feel unworthy. Thecla’s story offers us a path to take back the power we often give to others and live based on the truth of who we are.
MEGGAN WATTERSON is the author of the Wall Street Journal bestselling Mary Magdalene Revealed, and The Mary Magdalene Oracle, among others. She is a feminist theologian with a Master of Theological Studies from Harvard Divinity School and a Master of Divinity from Union Theological Seminary. She created The House of Mary Magdalene– a spiritual community that studies sacred texts left out of the traditional canon and practices the soul-voice meditation. Her work has appeared in media outlets such as The New York Times, The Huffington Post, TEDxWomen, and Marie Claire.
If you picked up this book, as I did, seeking an in depth analysis of the first century saint, Thecla and her subsequent veneration, prepare to be disappointed. The analysis present mostly consists of the author's thoughts and feelings about the Acts of Paul and Thecla, there is no discussion of current or historical commentaries on the work or how opinions on Thecla might have evolved over time. Indeed in reading this, one might get the impression that no one spoke about Thecla, a saint in both the Catholic and Orthodox churches, between the 4th and 21st centuries.
I would not have found this so annoying had it not been for the fact that the parts of the book not about Thecla are a sort of memoir for the author, Meggan Watterson, and I think I don't particularly like her very much. Watterson likes to bring up that she went to Harvard and all of the very important people she runs in the same circles as. She engages in a sort of "I'm not like other girls" behavior about being a Christian theologian, where she repeatedly states unlike other seminarians, she wasn't seeking ordination and didn't belong to any denomination because her beliefs are too radical and feminist. But her beliefs are basically left wing politics, female ordination, and congregationalism, she would fit in easily at most UU or UCC churches or honestly Quaker meetings. She behaves as though she were the only Feminist Theologian, an effect made worse by her reticence to bring up any other commentaries on the Acts of Paul and Thecla.
I found this narrative choice somewhat bizzare until I got to the end of the book, where she plugs joining her church, sorry online community of classes. You see Watterson is a guru and if she mentioned other denominations or theologians, you the reader might choose to seek them out instead of her. It's clear that Watterson's target audience are lapsed and ex-Christians who've never encountered any kind of left wing or feminist Christianity and upon reading the book will decide they want to hear more from her "radical" stance. I think anyone else who reads this book will feel as I did, disappointed and slightly annoyed.
I do have to give her credit where credit is due, I had no idea someone could write a feminist version of Christian Devotional Literature, but Watterson has done just that.
Thank you to Netgalley for an eARC of this title in exchange for an honest review.
Meggan Watterson continues her teachings from "Mary Magdalene Revealed" and expands upon them in this new book with themes of spiritual sovereignty, personal gnosis, and the transformational power of agape (unconditional divine love). I really enjoyed this book. Watterson's work is an antidote to the spiritual dryness of the contemporary liturgical Christian tradition and the rampant conservatism, patriarchy, and nationalism of American Evangelicism.
While historians, scholars, and theologians may be well aware of apocryphal texts such as the Acts of Paul and Thecla, the Gospel of Mary, the Gospel of Thomas, etc. the average churchgoer/non-academian is not. These texts are not taught in contemporary church settings. Watterson's perspective comes from outside the church (thank God) and is grounded in her theological training, feminist ethos, and her vision and desire for "the Christianity we haven't tried yet" and for us all to "know the power of our worth." She recontextualizes the teachings of Jesus/Yeshua outside of church hierarchy and tradition, making them accessible and powerful for the individual, "churched" or not.
I reccomend reading Watterson's book "Mary Magdalene Revealed" first as this new book builds upon the teachings and perspectives found there.
If you enjoyed this book I recommended A New New Testament: A Bible for the Twenty-first Century Combining Traditional and Newly Discovered Texts ed. Hal Taussig for further reading and reference.
If you enjoy alternative/expanded perspectives on Christian teachings and tradition I would recommend The Way of the Rose by Clark Strand and Perdita Finn, Jesus Feminist by Sarah Bessey, The Making of Biblical Womanhood by Beth Alison Barr, books by Diana Butler Bass, Margaret Starbird, Richard Rohr, Cynthia Bourgealt.
I’ve been reading Meggan’s work for the past decade and never before has it been so timely—this 2000 year old story is STILL GOING ON TODAY, and I think it couldn’t be more timely to learn about Thecla, the heroines journey, and the power of dissent.
I was expecting early church history but ended up gazing at the author's navel along with her against my will. Ending with an invitation to Watterson's online church at the end crossed the line for me from irritating to manipulative. Using a book that's ostensibly about Thecla to pitch what appears to be a cult of (Watterson's) personality gives major cult vibes.
I received an email from the Publisher requesting that I read and review this book, which I was more than happy to do so.. However, had not the Publisher reached out to me, I would, in all likelihood not read this book as it ie somewhat out of my "normal interest". Now I do love a good Theology book, so I thought why not? Before reading I searched for an old book of mine which contains The Acts of Paul and Thecla (as well as others) to familiarize myself with the story.. Doing so piqued my interest even more so (and I recommend prior to reading that you do as well, if for the background. If nothing else) All that to say, I enjoyed reading both the apocryphal story as well as the author's summation of the story and her framing it for a modern audience. The author highlights Thecla's faith, her decision to remain married and becoming a leader in the early church. I found it particularly interesting that the author focused on Thecla's resolve to steadfastly refuse the life that her family and society had chosen for her and willingness to be her own woman, in a society that is not open and accepting of such a decision....much like today's world for so many women and others. I enjoyed reading this and perhaps you may as well.
The Girl Who Baptized Herself promises an exploration of the ancient story of Thecla—a figure whose courage, autonomy, and spiritual authority have inspired readers for centuries. Unfortunately, the book delivers far less of that history than I expected. Instead, Meggan Watterson’s narrative frequently veers into autobiographical reflection, therapeutic anecdotes, and contemporary social commentary. While I normally appreciate a personal connection in nonfiction, this time the balance felt off: the author’s life seemed to eclipse Thecla’s rather than illuminate her.
One of the book’s major weaknesses is its tendency to jump rapidly from subject to subject. Rather than building a cohesive through-line toward understanding Thecla herself, the chapters move unpredictably, making it difficult to stay anchored in the very story the book claims to explore.
Watterson also relies on fairly cliché examples of modern therapeutic modalities—such as EMDR—to shape her reflections, but these sections often feel surface-level rather than thoughtfully integrated into the historical themes. The inclusion of widely known feminist issues, like the Larry Nassar scandal, further reinforces this sense of thematic scatter. While these topics are important, their presence here feels more like an obligatory reference than a meaningful connection to Thecla’s legacy. As a result, the book’s contemporary lens overwhelms the ancient narrative instead of enriching it.
Another surprising detour is the amount of attention given to Mary Magdalene. Watterson is known for her work on Mary Magdalene, and her admiration is clear, but the repeated focus feels misplaced in a book ostensibly dedicated to Thecla. The effect is a dilution of the central subject: by the end, I felt as though I had learned very little about Thecla’s story, her role in early Christian tradition, or the significance of her influence.
In the end, The Girl Who Baptized Herself reads more like a memoir woven with spiritual reflections than a substantive engagement with its titular figure. Readers who enjoy Watterson’s personal voice may find value here, but those seeking depth, clarity, or historical insight into Thecla may come away disappointed—as I did.
As a creed-affirming Christian, I disagree with many of Megan’s presuppositions about the evolution of Christianity and the canonization process. She is a feminist first and a Christian second, and this book reads as such. That said, Thecla is a fascinating character in the early church, and there’s not a whole lot about her out there. Unfortunately, I found this book to be as much about the author’s personal life as Thecla’s. If you are interested in the gnostic gospels as an academic pursuit, I recommend reading Karen King, who I disagree with on most everything, but is a serious scholar.
I did a tandem read with Faro and Dalrymple's much buzzed about 2025 book Redeeming Eden: How Women in the Bible Advance the Story of Salvation (Kobo e-book), and Meggan Watterson's 2025 book The Girl Who Baptized Herself: How a Lost Scripture About a Saint Named Thecla Reveals the Power of Knowing Our Worth (audio format). A tendem read I sort of stumbled into unintentionally (which I find seems to be happening more often than not).
What a fascinating conversation piece the two books present. Two books tackling the same concern but taking two very different inroads into a similar conversation with conclusions that simitaneously agree and diverge.
For me, Faro and Dalrymple is the stronger of the two, although I found both to be worthwhile.
The differences in the books essentially stem from how their interest in reclaiming the story and voice of women from a history of unfortunate prejudice and oppression at the hands of scripture and the patriarchal powers that wielded it leads them into a necessary conversation about those scriptures. For Watterson, her thesis is simple. Her studies of the lost and now recovered scriptures The Acts of Paul and Thecla, inspired by an on the ground revelation and discovery of a still standing statue which opens up her awareness of how such a story fits within the history of canonization, leads her to want to forge a path into a fresh and renewed embrace of this scripture for us in the West. She wants to be a starting point readers within and outside of the Christian Tradition coming to find Thecla as a key figure within that Tradition. More than this, she wants to cut through the noise of the ways in which we've been taught to see these extant writings as gnostic and therefore unwelcome entries into what becomes a curated selection. Learning to see this writing as a reflection of an authentic voice within the shared history of all these other writings can not only reframe how we think about and incorporate the scriptures into our lives, but open up fresh inroads into open participation within the faith for those long outcast by the canon's construction.
This is where her particular conceptions and readings of the scriptures comes into play. She believes that the Western canon was controlled and put together by men in power, and thus reflects that voice. This is the reason, she insists, that a story like Thecla's ends up lost and buried in time. Here we find a Paul whom affords Thecla a voice and a liberty that the scriptures these men in power wielded looked to strip away.
Now, to reflect on this in good faith, Watterson isn't trying to attack the scriptures. She simply wants to open up pathways into the whole of the history and world that gives us them. To free us to be able to approach them in ways that are aware of the complexities of this intersection where we find a history of canonization, edited compositions, disagreement and infighting, politization. She wants to make space for it to be okay to see a story like Thecla's speaking something that is antithetical to what we find elswhere in this larger collection of writings. To a point I agree with and appreciate some of these observations. Although I do think she conflates later cultural conceptions and readings with the scriptures themselves, leading to what I would say are some suspect readings both of that composition history and the texts themselves, in spirit I would say reading the scriptures as a closed canon, which usually goes along with certain theologies of inerrancy, is not a good way to read them. Embracing those complexities is a good and necessary thing, and I have no issues with setting something like The Acts of Paul and Thecla alongside the rest in tandem and in conversation. And if nothing else, Watterson does a great job of bringing this work to life.
What did feel very clear to me though is Watterson's particular interest in this work directing her into certain gnostic tendencies that I would say don't quite capture why that historical backdrop matters. The pictures she pulls from Thecla's story is one where the Gospel is framed within that typical gnostic tendency for the inner life of the individual, where its all about this inner revelation. She baptizes herself becomes both emblematic and symoblic of this move towards the spirits illumination of her individualized self, a phrase that gets repeated often as "she needed to save herself." This, I think, is where I think Watterson's conflation of the fourth century history and politics from which we find the process of canonization with the scriptures themselves leads to a persistant obsession with setting this particular work over and against the rest. As though the scriptures that we have are reflective of the patriarchy and the voices that were buried opposed it. This becomes slightly polemical as the book goes on, although to be fair I found she brings in a more charitable and nuanced view in the latter quarter of the book (chapters 17-22), which I think are the best and strongest chapters in the book (chapters that are grouped together in sections divided by stages of personal transformation).
Contrast this with Faro and Dalyrmple, whom take the same concern for the oppression of the woman's voice and seek an answer to that problem through recovering the abused scriptures themselves. From there point of view, it is the way these scriptures have been used that is the problem, not the scriptures themselves, a point they make by walking through the canonized Bible and recovering the narrative thread of women contained within. For me, the work they do in bringing these stories back to life challenges Watterson's polemic. More importantly, I would think its impossible to read these two books and not see the different conclusions they draw when it comes to the kind of transformation the world of these scriptures are teaching. Over and over again the stories and figures and texts in Redeeming Eden challenge the emphasis on the inner self in Watterson's book, helping to see this contrast as an essential part of the larger conversation. For Redeeming Eden, transformation is found in the tranformation of creation, in setting ourselves aside for the sake of God's work in Christ.
As they say, "The way a story begins is important," (page 34) as it sets the stage for the rest of the story. And the stories we believe (about God and about this world) shape how we see ourselves and value others. In the beginning of this story we find God's good creation, a fact that awakens us to the pattern of creation, a process that "involves envisioning something that inspires actions to create something new."
The story begins with the absence of conflict between God and creation. Faro and Dalyrmple do an excellent job of framing the context for the ones telling the story, anchoring this "beginning" as a temple text rich and overflowing with temple imagery from start to finish. Creation as a temple inaugeration with an emphasis on the idols commonly placed within the temple. Here we come to the relationship set in play between humans and the Divine, setting the stage for a countering of the common conception in the ANE of rulers being made into gods. One of the key motifs driving this story in the Judeo-Christian scriptures is the ways in which humanity as image bearers is precisely the place in which God's name is revealed within a world in which humanity, in all other ANE conceptions, were slaves to the deified rulers whom weilded the distant and extant workings of the gods. This elevation of the whole of humanity by way of the oppressed and marginized people becomes the defining storyline moving forward, and it happens in direct response to the conception of Empire and its rulers as being synonymous with "the Powers," often understood as the Powers of Sin and Death.
This becomes the imagery of the trees and the serpent. The threat encased in telling a different story is evidenced to the whole of creation in its division. Hence the temple and its movement between a creation enslaved to Death and the presence of God which is defined by Life.
A side note here- there are a few observations in translation that the authors work through that really stood out for me, and one of those was on page 61 where the author speaks of "the side" of the man out of which we find the woman, suggesting and showing that it is in the texts temple imagery that the word finds its proper meaning. Not as rib, but as the sides of the temple wall. Here the woman is conceived as the necessary side of the temple structure needed to contain the structure. it is an architectural word. If a woman is drawn from the side of Adam (meaning a whole human, not a man), the story that precedes is one in which every human being thereafter is drawn from the woman. In the story this temple text is telling, this directely relates to the conception of the "seed" which will crush the head of the serpent (the powers), and as the book goes on it is impossible to avoid the simple observation that at every turn and in every corner of the subsequent narratives the threads follow the same pattern of the firstborn in a patriarchal world and system failing in the keeping of the promise and finding these evidenced women figures carving a path back in line with the promise. Over and over again we find this pattern demonstrating itself. The seed of the woman will crush the head of the serpent which threatens the temple structure (creation). From the first time the scacred covenant name is uttered, which is on the lips of a woman (Eve), to the first ones to the empty grave and proclaiming the truth of the resurrection (Mary),
Adam is called the universal human while Eve is called the mother of all the living. Abraham is called the father of our faith right alongside Sarah being proclaimed the mother of our faith (literally, the princess of Yahweh). Hagar becomes the promise to all the peoples of the world. Tamar becomes the antidote to Judah and his brothers handing their father the bloodied tunic, being the only woman to receive the designation "righteous" in the OT.
The full cast of women directing Moses' story.
Rahab (set alongside Joshua as "the faithful one") preparing the way into the new creation promise at a point in the story when Canaanites become Israelites and Israelites become Canaanites." (page 141)
Deborah, uniquely declared as both judge and prophet and called "a mother in Israel" and hands us one of the oldest passages in the scriptures (the Victory Song of Deborah), beginning a pattern of deterioration among the judges in contrast with Deborah as the lingering figure of God's saving work. Which is followed by the story of Ruth as "a reversal of expectations" in the face of Israel having become "like Sodom." Here "Rahab and Ruth form a kind of frame around Joshua and Judges" in a time of instability.
Hannah coming into this great reversal of expectation and changing the course of history, a legacy that looms over the entire story at this point in Samuel and Kings.
Or in one of the most powerful chapters, redeeming the figure of Bathseba. Although its spoken all the way through these narratives, there is this ongoing and replaying motif of the words "saw" and "took." linking the tree with all of these subsequent stories of those aligning with the powers and the women who's actions contiunue to support and change and redirect the stories trajecotry towards the promise. This chapter is worth the price of the book alone, as it tackles some long standing and unfortunate assumptions of this central figure. And it leads powerfully into the figure of Jehosheba, who's name means Yahweh is an oath, setting the stage for the NT to take these same patterns inherent in the women (often pulling forward interconnected themes of barrenness and promise) that we find pushing and pulling the story forward against the powers. There is a reason why the geneologies emphasize all these women in the OT as a way of evoking our imaginatin for the likes of Elizabeth and Mary.
Would it be possible to include Thecla in this mix? I would say absolutely. i would simply say that there is also needed room to recognize how this story being described above, with each figure I mentioned having their own chapter where the authors break down the clarify of their hsitorical and thematic presence, is one that challenges the gnostic tendencies of the emerging first and second century world. That the lens needs to include this important contrast and conversation. Thecla, I would argue, belongs not in a tradition of the self made individual, but in the long storied act of God's covenant movement. One which would agree with Watterson's concerns for the patriarchal powers, but finds the solution not in the self made self saved individual but rather the prolomation that God has acted in the world through Jesus as the incarnated Christ, calling us outside of ourselves to this greater vision of the new creation.
More memoir with sprinkles of Thecla. Some takeaways:
Crumbs are no longer delicious
We are each only as far from power as we are from our own embodiment
Everything is going to be alright not because it is, but because there is nothing that exists outside of me that this love inside of me cannot meet
“Freeing yourself was one thing, claiming ownership of that freed self was another.” -Toni Morrison
“The abandoned one at the heart of the addiction is the soul of the potentially conscious woman, the virgin, one-in-herself. She is the one who needs food. Her food is the food of the creative imagination.” -Marion Woodman, The Pregnant Virgin
“What is within you will save you” - Thomas’ gnostic gospel
Here we go again. Watterston baited me yet again with a badass-sounding book purportedly containing a feminist reading of a long-discarded early Christian text (the first was her Mary Magdalene book.) I was really excited to learn about Thecla. But nah, once again I took the bait and got the switch: a self-indulgent memoir that contains shallow and immature theology to boot. At least with her Mary Magdalene book, Watterson turned me onto the much more rigorous scholarship and spiritual practice of Cynthia Bourgeault. The Thecla book does not cite anyone as respected and well-established as Bourgeault.
Meggan needs a new editor. This fell flat for me. I was hoping to learn more about Thecla but her story was overshadowed by Meggan’s personal testimony and stories comparing herself to Thecla. If that was truly the focus, it should have been clearly communicated in the book summary. I loved her last book and her personal anecdotes felt meaningful and well-placed in that book. Here, they feel scatterbrained and more like a stream-of-consciousness. I also didn’t enjoy the constant parallels the Meggan drew between herself and Thecla. It didn’t feel humble to frame the book as being about Thecla and letting her finally have the floor, only for the author to then focus on herself instead. Very disappointed in this book. Giving a 2nd star because I did enjoy the story of Thecla when it was shared.
I actually liked her first book. I was ready. Open-minded. Hopeful. But this? This was like sitting through a TED Talk that forgot to include any facts. Imagine marketing a book as a fresh look at Saint Thecla - and then writing 90% of it about yourself? Babe, if you're going to ride on Thecla's name, at least let the girl have the mic.
Let’s get the obvious out of the way: yes, this book is “empowered.” Yes, it’s “feminist.” Yes, it’s vaguely mystical in that incense-burning, oracle-card-pulling, “the moon is my mother” kind of way. But what it isn’t? Theologically sound. Historically accurate. Even remotely curious about what the Catholic Church actually teaches.
Case in point: Watterson studied theology - Harvard Divinity, no less - and somehow doesn’t know the Our Father? And when she starts talking about how Christianity devalues the body? I nearly threw the book across the room. I mean, have you met Saint John Paul II? He literally wrote:
“The body, and only the body, is capable of making visible what is invisible: the spiritual and the divine.” (Theology of the Body, General Audience, Feb 20, 1980)
The Church doesn’t hate the body. The Church elevates it. Sacraments are physical. Grace incarnates. Jesus took on flesh. Mary was assumed body and soul. Catholicism is the most embodied religion on the planet. This whole “the body is bad” bit? That’s Gnosticism, hon. You're reading from the wrong heresy.
She also claims Christianity ties worth to productivity. Again - what? The Catechism says:
“The dignity of the human person is rooted in his creation in the image and likeness of God.” (CCC 1700) Not your hustle. Not your output. Not your metrics. You're valuable because you are. Period.
But Meggan’s not here for theology, is she? She’s here for vibes. And merch. Because the entire final section of this book is basically a pitch for her spiritual girlboss collective - I mean “church” - where you can pay to hear more of her “teachings.” I came for early Church badassery. I got a branded self-help funnel.
And let’s talk about the oh-so-subtle implication running through this whole thing: that the Catholic Church devalues women. Sis, please. The Church venerates more female saints than male. Four women are Doctors of the Church: Teresa of Ávila, Catherine of Siena, Thérèse of Lisieux, and Hildegard of Bingen - whose theological and spiritual insights literally shape doctrine. Women have led reform, founded orders, challenged popes, and had mystical visions that redirected the course of Catholic history. If you’re not seeing that, it’s because you’re not looking. Or worse, you’re deliberately ignoring the data to sell a narrative that flatters your brand.
Here’s the thing: there is a real hunger for feminine voices in Christian history. There is a deep need to recover women’s stories. Thecla deserves better than being a sidebar in someone’s memoir. So do the women reading this, hoping for something rooted, ancient, and true.
If you want actual theology? Look elsewhere. If you want to light a candle, talk about the sacred feminine, and misquote Aquinas? Meggan’s got you.
2 out of 5. One star for the cover. One star for reminding me how much I love the actual Church.
Meggan Watterson’s *The Girl Who Baptized Herself* is a compelling and nuanced exploration of feminine spirituality, self-empowerment, and the quest for authentic divine connection. Watterson navigates the sacred landscape with scholarly rigor and poetic introspection, challenging conventional religious paradigms and inviting readers into a deeply personal journey of spiritual awakening.
At its core, the book functions as an introspective voyage that interrogates the cultural and theological constructs surrounding femininity and spirituality. Watterson employs a navigational approach—guiding readers through her own transformative experiences, historical discourses, and mythopoetic symbolism—creating a layered narrative that is as scholarly as it is empathetic. She meticulously excavates ancient wisdom, especially the Life of Mary Magdalene, weaving these threads into a modern tapestry that affirms the divine within the feminine experience.
One of the most insightful aspects of *The Girl Who Baptized Herself* is Watterson’s capacity to blend academic inquiry with personal narrative. Her reflections are richly textured, revealing a layered consciousness that grapples with the societal impositions on female spirituality. Her introspective tone invites readers to undertake their own journey of self-baptism—an act of reclaiming the sacredness of the human existence. Thecla is more real than ever (and for so long she wasn't).
I am grateful that this book has blessed the scene for such a time as this. Every human can benefit from reading it. I’m a fan of Meggan’s previous works and this one will surely become a new favorite. One of the things I most enjoy about Meggan’s books is how she applies the teachings from these sacred texts to things she’s experienced and in so doing, has provided us with an example of how, we too, can apply these teachings to our lives. Meggan presents the events of Thecla’s journey in stages: 1) the jolt, 2) a new way of seeing what might be possible, 3) the door opens and we dare to walk through, 4) pilgrimage/adventure, 5) death, 6) learn how to be our own and 7) the return to the place where the call first came, and she divides the book accordingly to show not only Thecla’s journey through these stages but her own. Meggan’s writing has always been revelatory for me, someone who loves the scholarly deep dive into these texts while also loving to see how the author has experienced these texts. We are instructed on how to reclaim the power we have forgotten we hold, and I was witnessed simply through reading Meggan's words. If you are looking for how the teachings of the Acts of Paul and Thecla can be applied in your life, this is the book for you.
Watterson’s latest book, a feminist exploration of the apocryphal early Christian text “The Acts of Paul and Thecla,” felt like a continuation of her previous book, Mary Magdalene Revealed. Unfortunately, the issues that plagued that book are present in this one: a disjointed narrative that could have benefitted from more editing and structure, and too much reliance on personal stories to drive home how she wanted readers to perceive the first-century text.
The book finally seemed to gain its focus about halfway through, and from there, Watterson’s textual exegesis really sang. I especially appreciated the background into Roman history of the first four centuries CE, as that fully explained why early Christianity was so counter-cultural instead of aligned with empire, which it became after Constantine rose to power and became a Christian.
Overall, I liked this book despite its organizational and narrative flaws. I enjoyed learning more about an apocryphal text I had never read or heard of before. I truly believe those who are Christian or interested in Biblical development should read this book to see the diversity of stories that were present in early Christianity.
First, let me begin by sharing that I absolutely adore this author. Meggan Watterson’s writing is a beautiful weaving of the personal and the scholarly, a dance between mind, heart, body, and soul. She carries a rare gift for sinking into the depths of the stories behind scripture, gathering their threads, and crafting them into a tapestry of lessons, empowerment, and spiritual perspectives that can live and breathe in our daily lives.
When I first opened this book, I imagined it would be arranged differently. I’m grateful it wasn’t.
This book is alive. I underlined, circled, highlighted, and tabbed so many passages that I can’t possibly lend out my copy. As I read, it became more than a book. It became my journal, my mirror. Thecla’s story walked beside me, inviting me inward, into the quiet places of my own soul, guiding me through a spiritual experience that was deeply personal and profoundly moving.
I recommend this book to the seeker, the practitioner, the student, the facilitator, to anyone who is ready to be met exactly where they are, and to be gently invited into their own power, their own embodiment, their own fullness.
Thank you NetGalley and Random House for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.
I can’t remember the last time I highlighted a book as often as this one. This book is a beautiful meeting of history, theology, personal stories and self help. Facts are presented alongside passages that read almost as poetry. Maybe I just stumbled upon this one at a time in my life when I particularly needed to hear its messages but this one really got to me and I can see myself rereading it often. As someone who believes deeply in a god-power that exists in us all, but am most definitely not Christian, there are so many rich treasures in this book that give me a deeper appreciation for any religious text that aims to bring deep love into our lives.
There has never been a better time for the story of Tecla to be illuminated and there has never been a better person to do this work than Meggan Watterson.
There are so many layers of Goodness in this book that I can only illustrate with the overwhelming amount of highlights I did. The knowledge of theology, the context offered, the feminist lense, the personal stories, so, so powerful, make this book a revolutionary act. There is so much soul here, so much love, like thick honey dripping from the pages.
For no reason I could specifically name I have waited for this book with such an impatience, I counted the days until it got published. Yet, I could not have anticipated its greatness and its effect. I am just blown away.
I rarely come across books about the early Christian church (Jesus Movement). I was aware that before the fourth century, women had an equal standing and served as deacons. I loved reading about Thecla and her story interpreted by Watterson and combined with her story as well. This book is very powerful and probably needs more than one reading to meditate on salient ideas. The writing (hence the four star rating) was choppy for me. I was confused by certain aspects of Watterson’s life story. A lot needed to be inferred which was alright I suppose. Overall the main idea of connecting with your heart comes through loud and clear. This is the most important way for any of us to live. I liked the questions at the end. They are good to go over for a reread.
Many fascinating ideas in this deeply empathetic, humanist, feminist redefining of Christianity. Watterson proposes an alternative model of Christian practice rooted in radical self acceptance and true equality for all through interpretation of Thecla’s lost story in an excised scripture. Particularly compelling were Watterson’s explorations into Roman motivations for making such edits.
While some portions of the text felt a bit padded and too self-referential for my taste, the content remained riveting and poetically articulated. I love Watterson’s boldness in presenting feminist mysticism as core to the proper practice of true Christian values. Radical stuff!
I've owned this book for 10 days and I've read it twice. No doubt a third time is coming. Thecla's story is archetypal and each time I engage with it, I discover something new about myself. That I am the spiritual authority in my own life. That I am worthy of the vision that calls to me. That in reclaiming my power today, I am acting on behalf of my female ancestors and grandchildren's grandchildren. Thank you Meggan for making this ancient story known at a time when we are desperately in need of the teachings of the sacred feminine. Your writing is accessible, relatable and deeply compassionate.
Thecla is a teenage girl listening to Paul talk about love. She wants to join his venture but is trapped in a world that expects her to marry and have children. Instead, she defies patriarchy. This is her story. The author also shares bits of her story as she reminds readers that we all have power if we choose to take it. Some of my key takeaways revolve around love. It's a powerful force that can transform us. Love can bring us and others back to life. Love equips us to defy the powers of religion, government, and other oppressive sources. Love liberates us. Love ignites courage inside us. Love is a force that ignites us, reveals our full potential, empowers us, and brings us to life.
The most powerful parts of this book were learning about a group of almost lost first century writings, rejected from the canon of scripture (likely due to their messaging on knowing God within, written by strong women in leadership). Thecla’s story is riveting and I want to know more about her.
The book tries to blend a theology, memoir, and exegesis, and not always skillfully. The theology reads more as opinion and the memoir sections seem randomly added.
Overall, a valuable book, that while clunky at times, has some powerful take homes.
This is written by a feminist and it shows! I REALLY enjoyed the theology and history, and learning more about Saint Thecla. No doubt this author is a well learned theologian. The personal anecdotes definitely almost all were cringe (i.e the author “baptizing” herself in the ocean wearing a wedding gown; the author throwing herself on the ground in a French chapel; the authors ex partner sobbing in couples therapy; the author being a hospital chaplain and not knowing the Lords Prayer… etc). Without all the cringy personal stories this was a great historical novel!!
Truly outstanding study of The Acts of Paul and Thecla and the text’s relation to The Acts in the New Testament and other works that were thrown out by the 4th century patriarchs that curated what we know as The Bible. Not only the power of the story of Thecla, but how she pertains to all of us now today. This is a must-read regardless of your faith and background. It’s beautifully written and important. Her story deserves elevating.
Another favorite by Meggan Watterson. I especially love how she weaves her story throughout her discovery of Thecla's scripture. The "Great Lion of God" has been one of the Saints I enjoyed reading about most. He comes to life here, as a human, and flawed, man of his time, as seen through the eyes of a young girl who followed him. It makes all the stories about Saint Paul that much more real. I'm looking forward to reading this book again (listening to Meggan read it on Audible).