Produced by David McClamrock
SAINT ATHANASIUS
c. 297-373
THE FATHER OF ORTHODOXY
By F.A. [Francis Alice] Forbes
"Jesus said to them: Amen, Amen I say to you, before Abraham was
made, I am."
--John 8:58
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the
Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God. . . . And the
Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us."
--John 1:14
Nihil Obstat: J.N. Strassmaier, S.J.
Censor Deputatus
Imprimatur: Edmund Canon Surmont
Vicar General
Westminster
August 5, 1919
Originally published in 1919 by R. & T. Washbourne, Ltd., London, as
part of the series _Standard-bearers of the Faith: A Series of Lives
of the Saints for Young and Old_.
"Born of the Father before all ages, God of God, Light of Light,
true God of true God, begotten not made, consubstantial with the
Father . . . "
--From the Nicene Creed
CONTENTS
1. A Foreshadowing
2. Arius the Heresiarch
3. The Great Council
4. The Calm Before the Storm
5. False Witnesses
6. A Royal-Hearted Exile
7. The Day of Rejoicing
8. The Invisible Patriarch
9. A Short-Lived Peace
10. The Last Exile
11. The Truce of God
SAINT ATHANASIUS
"I and the Father are one."
--Words of Our Lord (John 10:30)
Chapter 1
A FORESHADOWING
THE Patriarch of Alexandria, Egypt was expecting company. He stood at
the window of his palace looking down the long road, that at the first
sign of his guests' arrival he might go forth and welcome them. Before
him, like a white pearl in the blue waters of the Mediterranean, lay
the city of Alexandria--"the beautiful," as men loved to call it.
Across the harbor the marble tower of the great lighthouse soared up
into the clear Eastern sky, white as the white cliffs of the Island of
Pharos from which it sprang. It was noonday, and the sunshine lay like
a veil of gold over all.
The Patriarch's thoughts were wandering in the past. He had been
celebrating the anniversary of his holy predecessor Peter, the
previous Bishop, who had won the crown of martyrdom during the
terrible persecution of the Christians not so many years before.
Several of the clergy present had come from afar to assist at the
festival, and these were to be his expected guests.
The time of suffering was past and over, and yet it seemed to
Alexander as if it had all happened yesterday and might happen again
tomorrow. There stood the great palace of the Caesars, where the pagan
emperor had sat in judgment upon the lambs of Christ's flock; there
the famous temple of Serapis, where the Christians had been dragged to
offer incense to the gods; there the amphitheater where they had been
torn to pieces by beasts and slain with the sword for confessing the
Name of Christ. And all through those dark days, firm and steadfast as
the lighthouse on the cliffs of Pharos, had stood the Patriarch Peter,
a tower of strength and comfort to his persecuted children.
A hundred Bishops and more had looked to him as their head, for the
See of Alexandria in the East was second only to that of Rome in the
West, and the burden of responsibility was heavy. But, thanks to the
example of its chief, the Church in Egypt had borne the trial bravely,
and if some had quailed before the torture and the rack and had fallen
away, by far the greater number had been true. Even the unheroic
souls, who had loved their lives better than their God, had not been
lost beyond hope, for they had come back during the lulls in the
storm, begging to be absolved from their sin. And Peter, mindful of
his Master's words that he should not quench the smoking flax nor
break the bruised reed, received them back, after they had done
penance, into the fold of Christ with mercy and compassion.
There were some who had not scrupled to protest against such mercy.
"Were these apostates," cried Meletius, Bishop of Lykopolis, "to be
made equal to those who had borne the burden and the heat of the day?"
And he had rebelled against the decision of the Patriarch and made a
schism in the Church. Even the martyrdom of the holy Peter had not
brought him back to his allegiance: the Meletians were rebels still,
to the crying scandal of Christians and pagans alike.
They were a hard people to govern, these Alexandrians--subtle,
passionate and unstable, ready to follow any preacher of novelties.
Alexander half envied Peter his martyr's crown as he stood musing over
the past.
What was delaying his guests? he wondered, as he looked down the long
road, where there was as yet no sign of them.
On the shore, at a little distance, a group of boys were playing,
their bare legs and white tunics flashing hither and thither as they
ran. One of them, a tall slim lad, whose aureole of ruddy hair seemed
to catch every wandering sunbeam, was evidently directing the game,
for all seemed to look to him for orders. "A leader of men," smiled
the Patriarch to himself, as a vigorous wave of the boy's hand brought
all his companions round him.
They were building some kind of a platform now, on to which he of the
ruddy locks was promptly hoisted, while the others appeared to be
forming a procession.
"A church ceremony," murmured the Patriarch to himself, remembering
his own boyhood days. Presently a little boy advanced solemnly and
presented some kind of a vessel to the youthful bishop, who, with a
magnificent gesture, beckoned to the procession to approach. Then, as
the foremost boy advanced and knelt at his feet, he raised the vessel
and poured some of its contents over his head.
"The baptism of the catechumens!" exclaimed the Patriarch; "but this
looks a good deal too much like earnest!"
Hastily calling a servant, he bade him go down to the shore and bring
up the band of boys who were playing there. Summoned thus hastily to
appear before authority, they approached with some uneasiness, and
there was a certain amount of scuffling among them which resulted in
the appearance of the would-be bishop in the forefront of the
group--and where should a bishop be if not at the head of his flock?
"What were you doing down there on the shore?" asked the Patriarch.
The boy's clear eyes looked at him with interest, but without a
vestige of fear.
"We were playing," he said. "It was the baptism of the catechumens. I
was the bishop, and they"--pointing to his companions--were the
catechumens."
"Are you a Christian?" asked Alexander.
"Yes," answered the boy proudly.
"And these?"
"Catechumens."
"What did you do?"
"I poured the water on them and said the words."
"What words?"
The boy repeated the formula in perfect Greek.
"Did you pour the water as you said the words?"
"Yes."
The Patriarch's face was troubled.
"It is a dangerous game to play at," he said. "What would you say if I
told you that you had really baptized them?"
The boy looked at him in amazement.
"But I am not a bishop," he said.
The Patriarch could not help smiling.
"Although the bishop usually does baptize the catechumens," he said,
"it is not necessary that it should be a bishop, not even necessary
that it should be a priest."
The boy-bishop looked grave, his companions frightened, the Patriarch
thoughtful.
"What is your name?" he asked suddenly, laying his hand on the ruddy
locks.
"Athanasius," answered the boy.
"What would you like to be?" he asked.
"A priest," was the prompt answer.
"A bishop perhaps?" asked Alexander with a smile; "you think it is an
easy and a glorious life?"
The boy's eyes looked straight into the Patriarch's.
"The blessed Peter was a martyr," he answered.
"You need much learning to be a priest."
"I love learning," said the boy.
Alexander noted the broad, intelligent brow, the keen eyes and the
clear-cut face before him. His heart went out to this frank and
fearless lad who loved the martyrs.
"Come to me this evening, and we will talk of this," he said, for his
guests were at last to be seen approaching, and his duty lay with
them.
That evening the boy and the Patriarch had much to say to each other
as they walked under the palm trees in the garden of the episcopal
palace. Alexander learned how Athanasius had been brought up in the
Christian Faith under the shadow of the great persecution, among those
who counted it the highest honor to shed their blood for Christ. He
had been well taught in the famous Greek schools of Alexandria and was
full of enthusiasm for the great Greek philosophers and poets. Strong
of will, noble of heart and keen of intellect, the boy was born to
something great--of that the Patriarch felt assured. The Church had
need of such men in these troublous times, when the dangers of heresy
had succeeded to those of persecution.
Alexander at once resolved to take Athanasius into his household and
to bring him up as his own son, an inspiration for which he was often
to thank God in the years to come. The boy soon grew to love the
gentle and holy Patriarch, who could act with such strength and
decision when it was needful for the good of the Church. He was
constantly in touch with men of every rank and country, for Alexandria
was a city where people of all nations and of all creeds met. Pagans,
Jews and Christians lived side by side in their various quarters;
there even existed a set of philosophers who tried to make a religion
for themselves out of an amalgamation of several others.
Athanasius was still very young when he began to act as secretary to
the Patriarch, accompanying him on all his journeys throughout his
vast diocese; and he himself tells us how he stayed for a time among
the monks in the desert of Egypt and how his young soul was set on
fire by the holiness of their lives.
Neither science nor logic nor philosophy offered any difficulty to the
brilliant young scholar, whose knowledge of Scripture and of theology
was to astonish the men of his time. Alexander himself as he grew
older leaned more and more on Athanasius, consulting him, young as he
was, on the most important matters. So the years rolled on, and the
boy grew into manhood, "gentle and strong," as we are told by one who
knew him, "high in prowess, humble in spirit, full of sympathy,
angelic in mind and face." That he would make his mark on the world of
his time, few who knew him doubted; but of the dauntless
soldier-spirit that slumbered behind that gentle mien, of the
steadfast will that no human power could shake, they knew but little.
God's moment had not yet come.