THE DAY OF REJOICING
IT was an evil day for Alexandria. Most of the Egyptian Bishops
refused to acknowledge Gregory and were instantly arrested. Some were
banished, some tortured, some imprisoned. St. Potamon, who had
narrowly missed martyrdom during the persecution of Diocletian, was
scourged with rods until he died. The many cruelties of the usurper
made him so hateful to the Alexandrians that, after four years of
tyranny, he was killed by the mob in a sudden outbreak of fury.
Athanasius, in the meantime, had made his way to Rome, where he was
received by St. Julius I as a champion of the Faith. The case should
be tried in his own presence, the Pope declared; but it was impossible
to get the Arians to Rome. Excuse followed excuse, pretext followed
pretext. Eusebius, the head of the Arian party, died at last in his
usurped see, but his spirit survived in his followers. They drew up a
creed of their own and sent it to the Pope, who rejected it at the
Council of Milan. The Nicene Creed was the confession of Faith of the
Catholic Church, he said. But the Nicene Creed, which proved so fully
the divinity of Christ, was just what the Arians would not accept.
A fresh Council was called at Sardica, at which they were at last
induced to be present. But when Athanasius was proved innocent, and
the Bishops whom the Arians had banished appeared to bear witness to
the violence and cruelty with which they had been treated, the Arians
abruptly left the Council and returned to Philippopolis. Here they
formed a council of their own, in which they not only excommunicated
Athanasius, but had the impudence to "excommunicate" Pope Julius
himself.
The Council of Sardica, at which were present the orthodox Bishops of
Italy, Spain, Gaul, Africa, Greece, Palestine and Egypt, was very well
able to get on without them. The innocence of Athanasius was finally
established, the Arians and their creed condemned. A circular letter
was then written to all the Churches, informing them of what had
passed, and legates were dispatched to the two Emperors, Constans and
Constantius.
Constantius dared not resist. Urged by his brother, who did his best
to show the conduct of the Arians in its true light and threatened him
with civil war if he persisted in upholding them, he sent letters to
Alexandria ordering that Athanasius should be honorably received.
Gregory had met his death a short time before, so there was no
obstacle to Athanasius' return.
The Alexandrians, in the meantime, had received a letter from Pope
Julius in praise of their Patriarch. "If precious metals," he wrote,
"such as gold and silver, are tried in the fire, what can we say of so
great a man, who has been through so many perils and afflictions, and
who returns to you having been declared innocent by the judgment of
the whole Synod? Receive, therefore, beloved, with all joy and glory
to God, your Bishop Athanasius."
Never had Alexandria seen such rejoicings. The people thronged forth
from the city to meet their exiled Patriarch, singing hymns of
rejoicing, waving branches of trees and throwing rich carpets upon the
road along which he was to pass. Every little hill was crowded with
people thirsting for a sight of that beloved face and figure. It was
six years since they had seen him, and what had they not suffered
during his absence?
As for Athanasius, his one thought, as usual, was to establish his
people in the Faith. Those who had been led astray by the Arians were
pardoned and received with the greatest charity. The weak ones who had
given in through fear were strengthened with tender forbearance. Those
who had been Athanasius' enemies were greeted as friends on their
first sign of repentance. For the time, the Arians were defeated; they
could do nothing. Constans was too strong for them.
The present moment was the Patriarch's, and he determined to use it to
the full. The Bishops of Egypt gathered around him; widows and orphans
were provided for, the poor housed and fed and the faithful warned
against false doctrines. The churches were not large enough to hold
the crowds that flocked to them. It was a time of peace which God
vouchsafed to His people to strengthen them for the coming storm.
New Bishops were consecrated, men of holy life who could be trusted.
Even the monks in their distant monasteries received inspiring letters
from their Patriarch, stirring them up to realize the ideals of the
spiritual life and to pray for the peace of the Church. For in the
midst of all his labors Athanasius still found time to write--letters
against the Arians, treatises in defense of the Faith and on the
religious life, brilliant, strong and convincing. It was necessary to
be vigilant, for the Arians were everywhere trying to seduce men by
their false doctrines, teaching that Christ was not God. Letters from
Athanasius were a powerful weapon in defense of the truth.
So the years passed in incessant prayer and labor, until the whole of
Egypt was strong and steadfast in the Faith. "The Saints of the fourth
century were giants," says a modern writer, "but he of Alexandria was
the greatest of them all."
The time was coming in which his work was to be tried as gold in the
fire. Constans was killed in battle, leaving Constantius master of the
whole empire. It was a moment for misgivings; but for some time the
new Emperor seemed favorably disposed, even going so far as to assure
Athanasius of his friendship. It was a friendship which might well be
mistrusted.
Pope Julius had also died and had been succeeded by Liberius. One of
the first acts of Constantius was to write to the new Pope, offering
him handsome presents and urging him to condemn Athanasius. Letters
from the Arians containing all the old charges followed, but in vain.
Liberius refused with indignation both presents and requests.
A fresh persecution broke out. Athanasius, it is true, was not
molested, but his enemies were only waiting for a pretext to attack
him. This pretext they soon found.
At Easter of the year 354, the churches of Alexandria were so crowded
with worshippers that there was scarcely room to breathe. It was
proposed to Athanasius that he should hold the Easter services in a
large church that had been lately built but was not yet dedicated.
Athanasius hesitated to do this without leave, as it was built on the
Emperor's property, but he was at last persuaded by the people to
yield. The Patriarch Alexander had done the very same thing, they
urged, in the Church of St. Theonas on just such an occasion; in a
case of necessity it was certainly lawful. But they had counted
without the Arians, who instantly accused Athanasius of having usurped
the royal authority.
The Patriarch, in his famous "Apology to Constantius," stated the
reasons for his act, but it was useless; other false charges were
scraped up against him, and his doom was sealed. In the spring of the
next year, Constantius, who was now master of both the East and the
West, succeeded by force of persecution in inducing the members of a
large council, which he had had summoned at Arles in France, to
condemn Athanasius as guilty. The Emperor himself was present with his
troops and threatened with drawn sword those who resisted his will.
The Bishops who refused to sign were scourged, tortured or exiled; the
Pope was banished to Berea, where he was treated with harshness and
cruelty.
In the winter of the next year, a General called Syrianus came to
Alexandria with a large army. He was an Arian, and the people
suspected a plot. Athanasius asked him if he brought any message from
the Emperor; Syrianus replied that he had none. He was then reminded
that Constantius had promised to leave Alexandria in peace. To this he
agreed, but gave no reason for his presence. Things went on as usual
for three weeks, when the blow that all had been expecting fell.
It was midnight, and the Bishop was holding a vigil service in the
Church of St. Theonas, when suddenly shouts and cries broke the
silence of the night. Syrianus with five thousand men had surrounded
the building, determined to take the Patriarch, alive or dead.
In the dim light of the sanctuary Athanasius sat on the Bishop's
throne, calm and unmoved in the midst of the tumult. "Read the 135th
Psalm," he said to one of the deacons, "and when it is finished, all
will leave the church." The words rang out through the building with
their message of hope and confidence and were answered by the people:
"Praise the Lord, for He is good: for His mercy endureth forever.
"Praise ye the God of gods: for His mercy endureth forever."
Those who were nearest the Bishop pressed him to escape. "The
shepherd's place is with his flock," he answered firmly.
Hardly was the Psalm ended when the soldiers rushed in with drawn
swords. Many of the people fled; others were trampled underfoot or
slain.
Athanasius sat still, his hands folded in prayer. Again they urged him
to flee. "Not until all have left the church," he replied.
In desperation, the clergy and monks ended by taking the matter into
their own hands. Seizing Athanasius in their arms, they bore him out
of the church, passing right through the midst of the soldiers, who
were searching everywhere for the Patriarch. It seemed, indeed, as
Athanasius himself said later, as if God had covered their eyes.
Into the darkness of the winter's night he fled, an exile and a
fugitive once more.