Saint Thekla was a first-century disciple of the Apostle Paul who became one of the most celebrated women in Christian history. We honor her as “Equal-to-the-Apostles” and call her the protomartyr among women.
Her story comes to us primarily through the Acts of Paul and Thekla, a second-century text that the Church has treasured for nearly two thousand years. Thekla was a young woman from Iconium in central Asia Minor, engaged to be married to a prominent man. But everything changed when Paul came to town preaching the gospel.
She heard him teaching about Christ. For three days and nights she sat listening at a window, captivated by his words about virginity and the kingdom of God. She refused to leave, refused to eat, refused to speak to her family or her fiancé. Her mother was furious. Her betrothed was humiliated.
They had Paul arrested. Thekla bribed the guards so she could sit at his feet in prison and hear more. When her family discovered this, they demanded she be burned alive for abandoning her engagement and bringing shame on their household. The governor agreed.
They lit the fire. God sent rain and hail that extinguished the flames.
Thekla survived and went searching for Paul. She found him and begged to be baptized and to follow him in ministry. Paul was hesitant at first, she was young, beautiful, and the age was hostile to women in public roles. But Thekla was determined. She cut her hair, dressed in men’s clothing, and set out to preach Christ.
In Antioch (the very city our Archdiocese is named for), a Syrian official tried to force himself on her in the street. She fought him off. He was humiliated and had her arrested again, this time to be thrown to wild beasts in the arena. The governor tied her to fierce lions. The lioness appointed to kill her instead lay down at her feet and protected her from a bear. When they threw her into a pool of man-eating seals, she baptized herself in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Lightning struck the water and killed the seals.
The crowd was astonished. Even the governor’s wife became a believer.
After these trials, Thekla received Paul’s blessing to preach and teach. She spent decades evangelizing, healing the sick, and converting households throughout Asia Minor. Eventually she settled in Seleucia (in what’s now southern Turkey), where she lived as a hermit in a cave, still preaching and working miracles. People came from all over seeking her prayers and teaching.
She lived to be ninety years old. A shrine at Seleucia became one of the most popular pilgrimage sites in the Christian East for centuries.
Why She Matters to Us
We celebrate her feast on September 24. The title “Equal-to-the-Apostles” isn’t given lightly. It’s reserved for those who did apostolic work, preaching, converting whole regions, establishing Christian communities. Thekla did all of this. She functioned as an apostle in everything but name.
We call her protomartyr among women because she’s the first great female witness we know of who suffered torture and near-death for Christ. She didn’t die in those trials, but she endured them with the same courage that later martyrs would show. Her witness opened the way for countless women who would follow.
For Antiochian Orthodox Christians, Thekla holds special significance. She preached in our ancestral lands. She suffered in Antioch itself. She represents the courage and evangelical zeal that marked the early Church in Syria and Asia Minor, the very regions where our tradition took root.
Her story challenges us. She gave up wealth, security, marriage, and family approval to follow Christ. She preached when it was dangerous. She didn’t wait for permission or for circumstances to be favorable. When you’re sitting in the pews at St. Michael’s, maybe thinking about whether you’re ready to become Orthodox, whether you can handle what your Baptist mama’s going to say, whether this is all too much, remember Thekla. She had more to lose and she didn’t hesitate.
The Church has always needed women like her. We still do. She shows us that holiness isn’t passive, that women can be powerful witnesses, that courage and chastity and apostolic fire can burn in the same heart. When we venerate her icon, we’re not just remembering someone from long ago. We’re asking her prayers, yes, but we’re also saying: this is what Christianity looks like when it’s lived without compromise.
If you want to read her story yourself, you can find the Acts of Paul and Thekla online through Ancient Faith or the OCA website. It’s worth reading. Some of it will seem strange to modern ears, the melodrama, the miracles, the narrow escapes. But underneath all that is a woman who heard the gospel and let it remake her life completely. That part never gets old.
