Pope Joan and the Papal Ball Check: How the Church Pants-Checked History

The Mystery Pope With a Uterus: Who Was Pope Joan?

Picture it: the 9th century, Europe is all plague and patriarchy, and boom—legend has it a woman cons her way to the papacy by sheer intellect and a good cloak. Known as Pope Joan, she supposedly ruled as pope for a few years before her cover was, quite literally, blown—during a very inconvenient childbirth in the middle of a public procession.

Let’s be clear: mainstream historians generally agree Pope Joan never existed. But that hasn’t stopped the Catholic Church from sweating over the possibility for centuries.

Her name doesn’t appear on official lists of popes, and her story doesn't show up until 200 years later. Yet, somehow, this myth stuck harder than a televangelist to a private jet. Why? Because the idea of a woman in power—especially in the Church—is so threatening it sparked centuries of ball-checking rituals. More on that horror show in a minute.

👉 See our podcast episode on Pope Joan: Pope Joan and the Holy Throne: Myth, Misogyny, and the Papal Ball Check

Holy Genital Inspections, Batman: The Papal “Ball Check” Tradition

If the idea of a bunch of cardinals lifting a papal candidate onto a special marble chair with a strategically placed hole sounds too weird to be true—well, welcome to Church history.

That ritual allegedly involved a cleric reaching up under the new pope’s robes and confirming their, uh, papal assets. Why? To ensure no sneaky uteruses made it onto the throne ever again.

Seriously.

This bizarre tradition is often cited as an indirect legacy of the Pope Joan legend. There's no solid historical proof this ball fondling ceremony was ever real—but multiple 16th-century sources claim it was standard practice. The seat in question? It exists. It's real. You can see it in the Vatican museum. And no, it wasn’t for "ventilation."

The implications are nauseatingly clear: better grope a guy’s junk than risk another woman in power. Because apparently Jesus said, "Upon this rock, I shall build my boys-only treehouse."

Sexism in Holy Robes: The Catholic Church’s Eternal Fear of Women

Let’s not pretend this is just a quirky medieval legend. The Church’s treatment of women has always been, at best, condescending, and at worst, outright misogynistic.

Here’s a sampling of divine discrimination:

• Women can’t be priests. Period. Because penises are apparently theological tools.

• Female saints? Revered for obedience, virginity, or martyrdom—but never leadership.

• Mary? Celebrated for being a virgin and a mother, which, biologically, is asking a lot.

The Pope Joan myth may not be historically true, but it’s symbolically accurate: the Church has always treated female authority like a moral panic in lace. Even today, calls to ordain women get met with theological gymnastics that would impress Simone Biles.

Need more proof? Just look at what happened when women dared ask for leadership roles in modern Catholic circles—hint: it involves gaslighting, gatekeeping, and the occasional excommunication.

Origins of the Myth: Propaganda, Satire, or Ancient Trolling?

Most scholars trace the tale of Pope Joan to the 13th century, when Dominican friar Jean de Mailly recorded the story in Chronica Universalis Mettensis. From there, it snowballed into church lore, satire, and Protestant ammo during the Reformation. Because nothing screams “LOL Catholics” like a surprise uterus in the Vatican.

It’s likely the story gained traction because it confirmed people’s suspicions: that the Church, with all its pomp and infallibility, was ripe for deception. The myth allowed people to question authority—disguised as entertainment, of course.

Fun fact: Some historians believe the tale was a metaphor for theological hypocrisy, or a warning against letting intellect trump faith. In other words, “don’t let the smart girl read too much or she’ll take over.”

Why Atheists (and Everyone Else) Should Care

Pope Joan may be a myth, but the reaction to her story is all too real—and revealing.

This isn’t just about the past. It's about how institutions use myth as a weapon to maintain control, define gender roles, and silence dissent.

It’s also a juicy example of:

• Religious gatekeeping

• Weaponized legend-making

• And how patriarchy protects itself, even with marble furniture and a ball-grabbing ritual

More importantly, it shows that even fictional women in power scare the living crap out of religious hierarchies. So when someone tells you gender equality is “unbiblical,” remind them the Church wrote its own medieval fanfic to avoid promoting a woman—and then backed it with a hands-on testicle test.

Further Reading & Receipts

• FFRF on gender discrimination in religion

• How Women Came to Be Silenced in Early Christianity: A Blast From the Past by Bart Ehrman

• Wikipedia entry on Pope Joan – Yes, it's a rabbit hole.

• Our takedown of purity myths and misogyny

TL;DR?
The Church got so scared of an allegedly female pope that they may have institutionalized junk-checking during papal coronations. That’s not holiness—it’s hormonal hysteria disguised as doctrine.